I Am a Pastor: How does revitalization begin?

Author’s Note: This article was adapted from a sermon I preached initially in 2013.

For the last four years, I have spent countless hours studying revival. Of course, in seminary, they used the more academic-sounding descriptor of “church health and revitalization,” but as Shakespeare said, a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

Moreover, for the last 17 years, I have lived revival. When my wife and I arrived at our church, it was in desperate need of revival. Everyone knew that it needed to be revived or it would die. I am pleased to report that, though our church has not seen explosive numerical increase, the congregation has seen a profound turnaround and now engages daily in effective ministry.

But how does revival begin? What needs to happen first? In both my academic studies and my personal experience, I have noticed an almost universal answer to that question: revival begins with obedience and prayer.

This, of course, should not be surprising. In fact, the same two things have ignited revivals throughout history. One of the most profound examples may be found in Ezekiel 37:1-14.

Four hundred years. That is how long the nation of Israel had spiraled down, circling the proverbial bowl before finally being flushed down the toilet and hauled into exile by the Babylonians.

It really was a shame; things had started so well. Saul, Israel’s first king, held tremendous promise. In the end, he proved to be a misstep, but his successor, David, was described as a man after God’s own heart who accomplished great things, including claiming the full range of the territory God promised Abraham centuries earlier. And his son, Solomon, established Israel as an international powerhouse, expanding her borders well beyond the original promise, compelling neighboring nations to pay tribute, and even earning the respect and admiration of great rulers such as the Queen of Sheba.

But Solomon had a thing for women, and his one thousand wives and concubines convinced him first to tolerate their idolatry and then to participate in it. By the time his son, Rehoboam, took the throne, then, the stopper was already pulled. Rehoboam refused to heed the pleas of the people to lessen the load, causing the northern ten tribes to secede, and just as a toilet, once flushed, cannot be stopped, over the next four centuries, Israel disintegrated. It began slowly, but as leader after leader made poor moral and strategic decisions, the process inevitably grew faster and faster.

The northern kingdom went down more quickly. In an effort to distinguish themselves from the southern kingdom, the northern kingdom set up their own religion, rejecting the one true God who required his people to worship in Jerusalem, capital of the southern kingdom. As a result, God allowed the northern kingdom to fall to the Assyrian Empire, which brought catastrophic devastation and took the conquered survivors into exile.

The southern kingdom, however, was not far behind. By the turn of the sixth century BCE, the Assyrians were replaced by the Babylonians as the schoolyard bully, and the Babylonians were locked in a bitter power struggle with Egypt. The southern kingdom of Judah, situated directly between these two superpowers, aligned itself for a time with Egypt, but when Babylon launched a major offensive, the southern kingdom found itself under Babylon’s thumb for three years. Eventually, the Egyptians halted the Babylonians, inflicting enough losses in the process that several subject states, including Judah, were able to rebel, but in 598 BCE, Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, laid siege to Jerusalem once again. By the following spring, the city was captured, and the Babylonians deported nearly 20,000 men, women, and children.

Among these captives was a young man named Ezekiel. Born to a priestly family, Ezekiel was being groomed for service in the temple before he was hauled off to Babylon. For the next five years, he lived in a refugee camp along the shores of the Chebar Canal, in what is now southern Iraq. And then, on a hot day in 593 BCE, the Lord’s hand came upon him and he was called to prophesy.

One imagines that the idea of being a prophet was, at least initially, exciting to Ezekiel. After all, he probably assumed he would be the one to proclaim how God was about to deliver Israel from the clutches of Babylon. Yet, as God explained what he wanted of Ezekiel (e.g., Ezekiel 4:9-15), it quickly became clear that this would be anything but a dream job. Indeed, as bad as things were already in 593 BCE, for the next seven years, the message Ezekiel was to proclaim would be anything but hopeful: Israel had reached a tipping point, and Ezekiel’s calling was to warn them of imminent judgment.

That judgment came in 586 BCE when Nebuchadnezzar returned to Jerusalem. According to 2 Kings 25:9, the Babylonian commander Nebuzaradan “burned the Lord’s temple, the king’s palace, and all the houses of Jerusalem.” In verse 10, his men “tore down the walls surrounding Jerusalem,” and in verse 11, he “deported the rest of the people who were left in the city, the deserters who had defected to the king of Babylon, and the rest of the population.” In short, the nation of Israel came to an end, and as the exiled survivors staggered into the refugee camps several months later, things could hardly have seemed worse.

But then, God spoke again to Ezekiel. To a people asking why, in Ezekiel 33:26, he said, “You have relied on your swords, you have committed detestable acts, and each of you has defiled his neighbor’s wife. Should you then receive possession of the land?” To a kingdom broken and scattered, in Ezekiel 34:11, the Lord announced, “See, I myself will search for my flock and look for them.” And to a nation at its end, in Ezekiel 36:24, God proclaimed, “I will take you from the nations and gather you from all the countries, and will bring you into your own land.”

Finally, Ezekiel was able to deliver God’s promise of hope and restoration, but how reassuring was this message, really, to the few who were left, struggling to survive in a refugee camp a thousand miles from home? How could they possibly believe such things? And perhaps more importantly, how was God going to effect them?

Fortunately, God knew that the exiled Jews had lost hope. He knew that their city was conquered, they were deported, and the Babylonians had torn down and burned everything they left behind. God knew that things really could not have been worse.

But he also was not yet done with Israel.

So God overcame his prophet in a profound way. In Ezekiel 37:1, “the hand of the Lord was upon Ezekiel,” just like the first time God called him in chapter 1, “and he brought me out by his Spirit and set me down in the middle of the valley.” Suddenly, Ezekiel found himself in what the FaithLife Study Bible describes as “a state of prophetic ecstasy,” which it goes on to describe as a “trance-like state” in which the prophet was overcome by the Spirit, and while he was in that state, Ezekiel was transported to the middle of a valley.

No, this was not a narrow, rocky canyon between two mountains. Rather, the same Hebrew word used here is often translated “plain” because it represented a wide, open plain between mountain ranges. This terrain, then, would have been well-suited for grazing cattle. It would have been perfect for travel. And it was an ideal place for two armies to engage in battle.

In fact, that is precisely the image that confronted Ezekiel: the aftermath of a terrible battle long over. A battle in which defeat had been so complete, so humiliating, that there was no one left even to care for the dead, and so they were left on the field until the corpses rotted away and only the dried up old bones remained, broken and gnawed on and scattered by wild animals so that there was no hope of ever assembling a complete skeleton, let alone resuscitating anyone.

The bones, we are told in verse 11, represented the house of Israel, and what a fitting illustration it was. Like the bones, Israel had been defeated in spectacular fashion, systematically humiliated, broken and scattered until there was no hope of ever putting the nation back together again.

As Ezekiel looked upon this spectacle, God asked him if there was any hope for these bones. Several commentators note that Ezekiel was at least familiar with the notion of resurrection because he would have known the accounts of Elijah, Elisha, etc. They wax eloquent about the faith that was implicit in Ezekiel’s response. So in theory, Ezekiel knew it was possible: God could do anything.

Yet, one can almost hear the sarcasm and cynicism dripping from Ezekiel’s words as he answered, “Lord God, only you know.” These bones, dry and scattered as they were…

Whatever faith Ezekiel had, though, God called on it in verse 4 when he said, “Prophesy concerning these bones and say to them: Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord! This is what the Lord God says to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you will live.” Then, as though that was not incredible enough, God added, “I will put tendons on you, make flesh grow on you, and cover you with skin. I will put breath in you so that you come to life. Then you will know that I am Yahweh.”

As if it was not bad enough that God wanted him to prophesy to this field of dry bones, God then promised to do something that Ezekiel was not sure could be done. This was a stretch, even for the prophet of the Lord. Yet, in verse, we stumble upon a simple statement: “So I prophesied as I had been commanded.”

Read that last sentence again. Let it sink in. God commanded, so Ezekiel prophesied. And that, dear reader, is a big deal.

You see, the biggest complaint God had against Israel, the whole reason they were exiled in the first place, was because they had rejected God’s commands and disobeyed. It stood to reason, then, that their restoration – if it was ever going to come – would start with obedience. And that is exactly what Ezekiel did.

As crazy as it seemed, as much of a stretch of faith as it was even for him, Ezekiel obeyed, and if if we are to claim the promise of restoration and renewal for ourselves or our churches, we must do the same. This means recognizing that we screwed up somewhere (possibly many somewheres) along the line. It means resolving that we are not going to continue screwing up in the same way. It means scraping up whatever faith we can muster and obeying what we know God commanded of us.

It does not matter how ridiculous that command may seem. It matters not how hopeless we think it is. When God commands, we must obey. We must obey.

Even as Ezekiel was speaking, though, something extraordinary happened. In verse 7, we read, “So I prophesied as I had been commanded. While I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone.”

Perhaps you can imagine the scene. This valley was filled with bones. Bones, however, have a tendency to get scattered. Birds and animals come and eat the flesh, and in the process, they drag away bits and pieces for themselves. So the individual skeletons would have been scattered widely. Yet, even as Ezekiel prophesied, he could hear a rattling sound.

Perhaps you can imagine also the sound. The human body contains 206 bones. Multiply that by a whole army, ten or twenty thousand strong, jumping up, clattering across the ground and against each other as the skeletons reassembled.

It would have been a spectacle, to be sure. Yet, as though that was not enough, in verse 8, we read, “As I looked, tendons appeared on them, flesh grew, and skin covered them, but there was no breath in them.” In other words, not only did the skeletons come together, but the tendons and ligaments, muscles and skin, actually reformed until these scattered bones were once again complete bodies laying on the valley floor.

Yes, this was exactly what God had promised he would do, but this was incredible! Suddenly, this field of bones looked like an army again, and if the bones represented Israel, as God revealed in vs 11, then the implation was that God could – and would – make them, broken and scattered as they were, whole.

Like a real nation again.

And I would submit to you, brother or sister in Christ, that God will do the same thing for you and me. If we will take the first step of obedience, he will begin to remake us until we look once more like the church, like the man or woman of God, that he designed us to be. If we will take the first step of obedience, he will reform the systems and mechanisms and everything else that we need to live. Yes, God will reform us!

Yet, there was still a problem. Perhaps you caught it at the end of verse 8: “there was no breath in them.” The Hebrew word rendered here as “breath” can also be translated “wind” or “spirit.” It appears in verse 1 for the Spirit of God, and then again in verses 5, 6, 8, 9, and 10 to speak of the breath of life that God would put into Israel to make them live again. For Ezekiel and his readers, that was a clear allusion back to Genesis 2, where God created mankind, forming him out of the dust of the ground and then breathing life into his nostrils. Then again, the same word appears in verse 14, where God says that his Spirit and the breath he’s going to put into Israel – the bones – are, in fact, one and the same.

Suddenly, God suggests that Israel could look like a nation, with all the systems and mechanisms, a king and an army, and all the trappings in place, and yet not be a nation. At least, not from God’s standpoint.

Moreover, the same thing can be true of us. We may look like a Christian, with a good Bible and a nice life, and maybe a token ministry here and there. We may even obey every letter of God’s law, possessing the form of godliness but lacking its power (2 Timothy 3:5) because we do not have the breath of abundant life, the Spirit of God, in us.

The same thing may also be said of our churches as well. They may have nice buildings, functional Sunday Schools, pastors, congregations, and premium coffee brewing in the fellowship hall, but without the Spirit of God in them, they will never actually be a church.

The good news of Ezekiel 37, then, is that God was not yet done with Israel, with our churches, or with us. Indeed, in verse 9, Ezekiel wrote, “[The Lord God] said to me, ‘Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, son of man. Say to it: This is what the Lord God says: Breath, come from the four winds and breathe into these slain so that they may live!’ So I prophesied as he commanded me; the breath entered them, and they came to life.”

In other words, not only will God reform us when we obey, so that we look the part, but then, when we call on it, the fullness of the Holy Spirit will come from every corner of the globe and reanimate us, bringing us back to life!

Yes, the Spirit of God will bring us back to life, and here is why that is such a big deal for us today: An estimated 80% of churches in North America are in need of revival and revitalization. They look like churches, have all the trappings of churches, and even go through the motions of churches, but the Spirit of the living God is not in them. Further, it would be impossible to know where to start tallying the Christians who are in need of a personal revival. In fact, we have all been there, feeling spiritually dry, scattered, and broken, just as the bones in Ezekiel’s valley. If we have not yet been there, we can know with certainty that we will be someday.

When we are in need of revival, either individually or corporately, the two things which must happen before that revival will ever come are revealed in this passage: we must obey the commands of the Lord and pray for the Spirit to bring us back to life. These two things go hand-in-hand. They do not work independently of each other.

But if we will do these two things, in tandem and with all the faith and boldness we can muster, then we can know for certain that there is still hope because God is not done with us just yet.