And so Ezekiel prophesies. The sand of that dry valley becomes his bema. The dry bones become his congregation, and to his amazement, his sermon causes quite a stir. There is a noise like a truckload of dredels going over a Tallahassee speed bump. A rattling and a clattering and a coming together of bones, and before Ezekiel knows it, he’s got--what? A bunch of bodies all lined up in neat rows, li...
