Ezekiel 37

Ezekiel 37 — Commentary and Meaning

The short answer

Ezekiel 37 opens with one of the strangest and most memorable scenes in the Bible. The prophet is set down in a valley covered with human bones — and, the text stresses, "they were very dry." These are not the recently dead. Whatever life they once held is long gone. God asks Ezekiel a question that hangs over the whole chapter: "can these bones live?" Ezekiel, wisely, doesn't answer yes or no. He says only that God knows.

Then comes the surprising command: Ezekiel is told to prophesy — to speak — to the bones. As he does, they rattle together, bone to bone. Sinews, flesh, and skin cover them. But they are still corpses until a second word calls the breath, and "they lived, and stood up on their feet." The Hebrew word here can mean breath, wind, or spirit, and the chapter plays on all three: the same breath God breathed into the first human now re-creates a dead nation.

God then explains the vision plainly. The bones are "the whole house of Israel," a people saying their hope is lost and they are cut off. Ezekiel is prophesying to exiles who watched Jerusalem fall and the temple burn — people who feel, with good reason, that their story is over. The vision doesn't argue with that assessment. It grants that they really are dead as a nation, and then insists that God can open graves. The second half of the chapter extends the promise: two sticks, representing the divided kingdoms of Judah and Israel, are joined into one in the prophet's hand — one people, one land, one shepherd-king, and God's own dwelling among them forever.

John Goldingay answers the question of what the dry bones meant to Ezekiel's first hearers — exiles who, after Jerusalem's fall, were objectively finished as a people, not just feeling hopeless — while Ronald J. Allen carries the vision into the present, urging readers to prophesy to the dry bones of injustice and violence, confident that death and despair do not have the last word.

“July 18 Dem bones, dem bones, dem dry bones Ezekiel 37 The city has now fallen and the Temple has been destroyed, and it's hard for Judahites in Jerusalem or in Babylonia to imagine that they have any future. When Israelites roll away the stone from the family tomb because someone in the family has died, they can see how all that remains of people who died earlier is their dry bones. That fact provides a metaphor for the community's understanding of itself. Its hope is perished. While Ezekiel may include an allusion to their subjective hope (the hope they feel), he's at least as concerned about their objective hope. They're finished as a people. They have no future. It's regularly a prophet's job to disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed.”

John Goldingay · Senior Professor of Old Testament and David Allan Hubbard Professor Emeritus of Old Testament, Fuller Theological Seminary, Every Day for Everyone: 365 Devotions from Genesis to Revelation Westminster John Knox Press. All rights reserved. More from Goldingay in Rebind →

“The breath of God’s creating Spirit blows anew, reminding us that death and despair do not have the last word. The story of dry bones in Ezekiel 37:1–14 urges us boldly to claim the power of God’s Spirit, and to “prophesy” to the dry bones of injustice and death-dealing violence around us, in the confidence that injustice and violence will end and that our social world can live in the way God wants. In Romans 8:22–27, Paul reminds us that we are people of the Spirit, who always seek new possibilities for human flourishing, never caving in to the body of death and decay around us. John 15:26–27 and 16:4b–15 encourage us to take heart and to follow the Spirit, Christ’s Advocate, who will lead us into all truth.”

Ronald J. Allen, Preaching God’s Transforming Justice Westminster John Knox Press. All rights reserved. More from Allen in Rebind →

This chapter speaks to the difference between situations that are difficult and situations that are, by every honest measure, finished — a marriage, a community, a hope you stopped naming out loud. Ezekiel 37 doesn't ask you to pretend things are better than they are. The bones really are dry. What it offers instead is a God who addresses the dead, and a strange assignment: sometimes we are Ezekiel, called to speak life over things that show no pulse — including the entrenched injustices and violence of our own social world — trusting that despair doesn't get the final word.

Ezekiel 37 sits in the hopeful second half of the book. Chapters 1–32 are dominated by warning and judgment; then, in chapter 33, word arrives in Babylon that Jerusalem has fallen, and Ezekiel's message pivots to restoration. Chapter 34 promises a true shepherd, chapter 36 a new heart and a new spirit — and chapter 37 dramatizes that promise as national resurrection. The two-sticks sign in verses 15–28 then reunites the divided kingdoms, preparing for the visions of God's final victory (38–39) and the new temple (40–48).