There are bones everywhere. Can you see them?
I see the bones of a 17-year-old girl who overdosed last week in Massachusetts. I see the bones of the lonely man who picked up a gun– and the bones of his victims. I see the bones of the suicides, and the mentally ill. I see the bones of Ammon Bundy and Mark Baumer. I see the bones of those who could not afford health care, and still can’t.
I see the bones of men and women who fought for our leaders– but for what?
I see the bones of Michael Sharp, and of Patrice Lamumba.
We are surrounded by bones. Can you see them?
I see the bones of Lazarus spread across a valley. “I am the Resurrection,” Jesus said– and Lazarus breathed again.
How long will we be a people of death?
“I am the life,” said Jesus.
When will we listen?
My God is a God of life. He stretches out his arm to us, and we slap it away.
When will we learn that greed is death, selfishness is death, and isolation is death? Let those who have ears listen! But we do not listen. The cries are too loud–in the cities, in the rural places, in the nations who plead with us for justice.
A thousand channels is not freedom. A thousand restaurants is not prosperity. The best doctor is not health. A broken dream is not life. The body is not the soul.
There are bones everywhere. When will we preach the breath of life?