Life Out of Death

The Fifth Sunday in Lent: 2026

Ez. 37:1–14 | Ps. 130 | Rom. 6:15–23 | John 11:18–44

Finding Hope in the Valley of Dry Bones

Have you ever walked through a season where everything felt spiritually dead? Where prayer felt empty, hope seemed distant, and the future looked uncertain? Maybe it’s a marriage that still functions but has lost tenderness, or a faith that still speaks the right language but has lost hope. Many things can look alive and yet already be dying.

If you’ve ever found yourself in that place, you’re not alone. Scripture doesn’t shy away from these dark valleys—instead, it meets us there with an extraordinary promise. The living God does not merely comfort us in death. He invades death. He calls life out of places where life seems impossible.

The Stark Reality We Face

Let us begin with a simple but unsettling truth. Many things can look alive and yet already be dying. This reality extends beyond individual struggles to encompass a society busy with activity yet hollow at its core. A heart that has quietly grown numb.

The Scriptures today confront us with a stark reality: apart from God, human life inevitably moves toward death. But the readings do not stop there. They announce something far greater. The central message that runs through Ezekiel 37:1-14, Psalm 130, Romans 6:15-23, and John 11:18-44 is this: The God of Israel is the God who raises the dead — and he begins that resurrection even now.

Standing in the Valley of Dry Bones

The prophet Ezekiel gives us one of Scripture’s most vivid pictures of hopelessness. Ezekiel is carried by the Spirit into a valley. But this is not a quiet valley. It is a battlefield. Bones cover the ground. These weren’t fresh casualties—Ezekiel emphasizes that the bones were “very dry” (Ezekiel 37:2), meaning they have been dead a long time.

Historically, this vision spoke to Israel in exile after Jerusalem had fallen and the temple was destroyed. The people themselves captured their despair perfectly: “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are indeed cut off” (Ezekiel 37:11). It is the language of despair.

But then something remarkable happens. “God asks Ezekiel a strange question. ‘Son of man, can these bones live’ (Ezekiel 37:3)?” Ezekiel’s response reveals wisdom: “O Lord God, you know.” “Only God knows. Only God can bring life out of what has become utterly lifeless.”

The Pattern Of Resurrection

What follows demonstrates God’s pattern for bringing life: God tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones. Not to living people. To bones. And as the Word of God is spoken, the bones begin to move. They gather. They reconnect. Flesh forms. But there is still no life. Until the breath comes.

The Hebrew word used here means “breath, wind, Spirit.” God commands: “Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe on these slain, that they may live” (Ezekiel 37:9). And when the breath of God enters them, the dead stand up. A vast army.

The Church Fathers loved this passage because they saw in it both the restoration of Israel and the greater promise of resurrection. The pattern remains constant: Word. Spirit. Life. That pattern is repeated in baptism, in preaching, in conversion, and even in moments when weary believers find their faith rekindled.

The crucial truth emerges: Human beings cannot revive themselves. We cannot simply decide to become alive again. Life begins when the Word of God speaks and the Spirit of God breathes.

Crying From the Depths

While Ezekiel shows us the landscape of death, Psalm 130 gives us the voice that rises from that place. “Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord” (Psalm 130:1). The psalmist is not standing on firm ground. He is in the depths.

This Hebrew word often refers to chaotic waters — the deep, overwhelming places where life feels like it is sinking. But the psalmist identifies the deeper issue: Sin. “If you, O Lord, should Mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand” (Psalm 130:3)?

Here is the sober truth Scripture refuses to avoid. The deepest form of death is not physical. It is spiritual. Sin separates humanity from the life of God. Yet the psalm doesn’t remain in despair: “But with you there is forgiveness” (Psalm 130:4).

Forgiveness is not an afterthought in the Christian story. It is the doorway through which resurrection life enters. The psalmist then demonstrates active faith: “I wait for the Lord, my soul waits” (Psalm 130:5). Waiting is not passive resignation. It is active trust. Like watchmen waiting for the morning.

The psalm concludes with abundant hope: “O Israel, hope in the Lord! For with the Lord there is steadfast love, and with him is plentiful redemption” (Psalm 130:7). Not limited redemption. Not reluctant redemption. Plentiful redemption. God’s mercy is deeper than our depths.

From Slavery to Freedom

The Apostle Paul explains in Romans 6:15-23 what God’s mercy actually accomplishes. Forgiveness is not merely a clean record. It is the beginning of a new life. God does not simply pardon sinners. He sets them free.

Paul uses the stark metaphor of slavery: Human beings are not neutral creatures choosing between equal options. We are always serving something. Sin promises freedom. But it delivers bondage. The outcome is predictable: “For the wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23).

Sin always pays wages, and the payment is death. But then Paul introduces the most famous contrast in this chapter: “But the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Notice the contrast. Wages are earned. A gift is given. Sin gives us what we deserve. Grace gives us what we could never earn. This is why Lent is not about spiritual self-improvement. It is about returning again to the freedom Christ has already given us.

Jesus at the Tomb

All these themes reach their climax in John 11:18-44, where we see exactly what it means that Jesus Christ is the resurrection and the life. The story of Lazarus is not merely a miracle story. It is a Revelation of who Jesus truly is.

When Jesus finally arrives, Lazarus has been dead four days. In Jewish thought, the soul was believed to remain near the body for three days. By the fourth day, death was considered irreversible.

Martha expresses what many grieving hearts have felt: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21). Jesus responds with one of Scripture’s most powerful declarations: “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live” (John 11:25).

Notice something. Jesus does not merely promise resurrection. He embodies it. Resurrection is not just an event. It is a person.

The God Who Weeps And Calls

Then we encounter the shortest verse in the Bible. “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). The eternal Son of God stands before death and weeps. God is not distant from our grief. He enters it.

But Jesus doesn’t remain in grief. “Then Jesus calls out: ‘Lazarus, come out.’ And the dead man walks out. Still wrapped in burial cloths.” This miracle points to something greater: Jesus will soon enter a tomb himself. But unlike Lazarus, he will not come out still wrapped in grave clothes. He will leave them behind forever. Because Christ does not merely reverse death. He defeats it.

Putting It Into Practice

These Biblical accounts aren’t just ancient stories—they speak directly into our lives today. The God who raises the dead does not wait until the last day to begin his work. He begins it now. In Word. In Spirit. In forgiveness. In transformation.

Where Are Your Dry Bones?

Consider these questions: Where in our lives or community do things feel like ‘dry bones’? Have we allowed God’s Word to speak hope into places we have already declared finished? Where might the Spirit be inviting new life where we assumed none was possible?

Bringing Your Depths To God

What depths are we bringing before God in this season of Lent? Where are we being invited to wait upon the Lord instead of rushing to self-rescue? Do we truly believe that God’s mercy is deeper than our sin?

Living In Freedom

What habits or patterns still attempt to enslave us? Where might we be confusing freedom with autonomy rather than obedience to Christ? What would it look like for our community to live more fully under the life-giving lordship of Jesus?

Trusting God’s Timing

Where do we struggle to trust Jesus when his timing differs from our expectations? What grief or loss do we need to bring honestly before Christ? Do we believe that Jesus still calls people out of tombs today — spiritually and ultimately physically?

The Ultimate Hope

The story of Scripture moves toward resurrection. And Lent prepares us to recognize that resurrection always begins in places that look hopeless. Whether you’re standing in a valley of dry bones, crying from the depths, struggling with spiritual slavery, or grieving at a tomb, remember this: Where do we most need the life-giving voice of Christ to call us out of death into life?

The God who breathed life into Adam, who called bones to live, who forgives from the depths, who breaks the chains of sin, and who called Lazarus from the grave is the same God who calls to you today. What would it look like for us to live as a people who truly believe resurrection has already begun?