Original Meaning

IT IS NOT ENOUGH for God merely to give Israel a new shepherd-leader and a renewed land. The nation had had good kings in the past and had lived in the land God had promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. But the people themselves had proved unworthy to inhabit the land. A total transformation was required if the regathering and return were to be a success. It is this subject to which the prophet now turns, giving the reasons why judgment was necessary in the first place and the reasons why mercy will surely follow.

The prophet begins by pointing out the motivation for God’s wrath in the past. The people, while they lived in their own land, polluted it by their actions (Ezek. 36:17). As a result they could not remain in God’s presence and he could not remain in their midst. They were unclean, which the prophet describes in terms of the ceremonial uncleanness caused by menstruation. In the law of Moses, this process was considered defiling to a woman, making her unable to take part in religious activities (Lev. 15:19–24). This is not because it was in any sense sinful but because any contact with the realm of death, through the loss of bodily life-fluids (e.g., blood or semen) or through contact with a corpse, renders one unfit to be in contact with the realm of life.1 Communication with the living God through the various Old Testament means of grace was impossible as long as one was in a state of impurity as a result of contact with death.

What Israel had done while they lived in their land was to turn it into a permanent place of death, thoroughly defiling it by means of bloodshed and idolatry, making it a place unfit for divine habitation by the living God (Ezek. 36:18). God had no choice but to bring on them the curses of the covenant they had broken, in wrath scattering them among the nations, just as he had threatened when they first entered the land (Deut. 29:22–28).

This action, however, created a new problem for God. He had promised to bring this people, who were called by his name, into the land of Canaan to possess it. He had established a relationship between himself, his people, and the land. Yet now the nations could see that the Lord’s people were absent from his land (Ezek. 36:21). That three-way relationship had been broken. The conclusion drawn by the surrounding nations would be natural: The Lord’s power was insufficient to bring about that which he promised.2 He had given up on his people as a bad job. The final elimination of those people for their sins—what Moses had feared in Numbers 14:15–16 and had prayed against—had finally become a reality.3

Thus, as long as Israel was scattered among the nations, they continually profaned the divine name (Ezek. 36:20). This was now not because of anything particular they were doing, although there is no suggestion that the shock of exile in and of itself brought about a radical change in their behavior. Rather, they profaned God’s name simply by being in exile instead of in the land of promise!4

All of which brings Ezekiel to the reasons for God’s future mercy. If there had been no other reasoning involved for God than the necessity of dealing with Israel’s sin, permanent wrath would have sufficed.5 Israel could simply and deservedly have been blotted out from the pages of history as an example of the power of God’s holiness and his anger against sin. It is not because God shrinks from dealing out such judgment that he stays his hand from crushing Israel comprehensively and finally. After all, he had earlier repeatedly declared that he would not have compassion (ḥāmal) on sinners (5:11; 7:4; 8:18; 9:5, 10).6 As was the case for the people of Noah’s day, the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah, or the Amorites living in the land at the time of Joshua’s assault, those whose sins were full could simply have been totally destroyed.

However, the Israelites of Ezekiel’s day were not completely destroyed. Why not? Because though he has no compassion on them, God will nonetheless have concern (ḥāmal) for his name, which he had inextricably linked to Israel by entering covenant with them. Because of that sovereign, irrevocable act, mercy not only may but must be shown to Israel. The honor of God’s name will be vindicated by a show of power among the nations when he brings Israel back to her land (36:21–23). The Lord will act, not for Israel’s sake, but for the sake of his own name. The root of God’s action in restoring his people is grounded not in his love (which might suggest something lovable about the object of his affections) but in a demonstration of his holiness.

But this act through which God’s power is demonstrated involves not merely bringing Israel back physically to the land but also a total change in their nature. His people must be redeemed not merely outwardly but inwardly, effectively. Israel will indeed be gathered and returned from the nations to their own land (Ezek. 36:24). Then she will be sprinkled with clean water, symbolizing her cleansing from all her past impurities and idolatries, the things that had made the land unclean (36:25). In a similar way, Leviticus 15 prescribed washing with water to cleanse that which is unclean.

This outward act of initiation is then followed by a deeper, internal change, whereby Israel’s heart and spirit will be made new. The “heart” and the “spirit” are the seats of thought and will from which actions flow. Unresponsive, unyielding stone will be replaced by warm, living, responsive flesh (Ezek. 36:26). That which has been defiled will be made clean. The Spirit of God, which brings life and power, will indwell them and create in them both the will and the ability to follow God’s decrees and laws (36:27). Then, finally, they will be fit to live in God’s land and be his people, and he in turn will not be ashamed to be called their God (36:28).

Then the Israelites will experience the blessings of the covenant, the fruitfulness of the land, rather than the covenant curse of famine that had made them a reproach among the nations (36:30). Such a salvation will not bring about pride in the renewed nation but rather a profound sense of shame, for they will realize that their salvation is not something they have merited or deserved in any sense. Rather, it is a free gift of sovereign grace. Nothing short of such radical divine intervention could have saved such a people.

In addition to the act of self-glorification that results in the restored people being returned to the land, God will also restore the land to a “better-than-original” state. It will become “like the garden of Eden,” the ultimate symbol of fertility and fruitfulness (Ezek. 36:35; cf. Isa. 51:3; Joel 2:3). The garden land will be filled with restored cities; the places that once were torn down and desolate will be inhabited and fortified (Ezek. 36:35).7 In place of the one original ʾādām and his wife, the new garden land will be filled with “flocks of ʾādām,” that is, numerous “people” who will fill the cities to overflowing (36:38). The fertility and fruitfulness will thus encompass the people as well as the land itself, to the point where it will be as crowded as Jerusalem used to be on the great annual festivals, when her streets were crammed with a mass of people and animals (36:38).

The chief blessing, however, will be that God will once more be responsive to Israel’s petitions. In the past, he refused to be sought by the elders of his adulterous people (14:3; 20:3).8 His face was turned away from them and no intercession was possible. But in the future, that too will change. As a mark of Israel’s restored status as God’s people, he will permit himself to be sought by them to act on their behalf (36:37). To adapt the familiar language of 2 Chronicles 7:14, his people, who are once again called by his name, can now seek his face and God will hear from heaven and heal their land. The abundance of population will be proof of this favor of God that now rests on his people. Then indeed, they and the nations will know that the Lord has rebuilt that which he destroyed and replanted that which he desolated (Ezek. 36:36). God’s holiness will then have been displayed fully both in the judgment of the wicked and in the gracious salvation and transformation of the people called by his name.

Bridging Contexts

CEREMONIAL CLEANNESS AND uncleanness. The concept of ceremonial uncleanness is a distinctive feature of the Old Testament law. People and things were divided by nature into the categories of “clean” and “unclean,” of “sacred” and “profane.” Sheep, for example, were “clean” animals, which could be eaten, while camels were “unclean” and could not be eaten (Lev. 11:4).

These were not random divisions within the animal kingdom, nor were they categories motivated by hygienic considerations, a reflection of the relative safety of the meat of the animals concerned. Rather, the animals functioned as a means of holding up a mirror to society. Unclean animals formed the outer circle of the natural order. They were neither to be eaten nor sacrificed to God. Clean animals formed an intermediate category: All clean animals were fit to be eaten, but only some clean animals qualified for inclusion in the central circle, those that could be used for a “sacred” purpose by being sacrificed to God. Those that fit the criteria for this function had to be unblemished animals from a limited number of groups.

A similar ordering prevailed in the social realm and in the realm of sacred geography. On the outside of the circle were the nations, those who lived outside the Promised Land. They could observe God’s great acts and act as witnesses of his mighty deeds. But unless they converted, they could not enter the inner circle of God’s covenant people, Israel, and live permanently in the land. Even this inner group was subdivided, however, with a “sacred” minority who served as priests and had access to the inner areas of the tabernacle and temple. Membership of this group was limited to unblemished members of a particular subgroup (Levites who were descendants of Aaron).9 Only these people were qualified for the sacred purpose of approaching God.10 One of the responsibilities of the priests was to teach clearly to the people these distinctions between “clean” and “unclean” (Lev. 10:10–11; Ezek. 22:26; 44:23).

These were not entirely fixed categories, however. What was clean could become unclean, either temporarily or permanently. For example, a man could become unclean through a bodily discharge or through contact with a person so afflicted (Lev. 15:2–15). Anyone who thus came into contact with the realm of death was temporarily unfit for contact with the living God. Moreover, anyone who had incurred a certain kind of skin disease might become permanently unclean and be cut off from the covenant community (Lev. 13:45–46). Likewise, what was holy could become profane through inappropriate contact with the profane; and if the priests failed to be holy, they profaned the holy name of the Lord (21:6; 22:2).

What Israel had done through her idolatry and bloodshed was to move themselves as a nation from the category of “clean” to “unclean.” The land had become defiled by their presence, just as a woman was defiled (temporarily) by her monthly flow of blood. They were therefore no longer able to inhabit the inner circle, the land of promise, from which they had necessarily been scattered (Ezek. 36:18–19). The punishment fit the crime: Having behaved like the unclean (the nations), they were now scattered among them.

But this was not—indeed, could not be—the final word. For the holiness of God’s name was linked to his people, and therefore he would act to move them back from the outer circle to the inner circle. Physically, they would be regathered from among the nations. Spiritually, they would be purified with clean water to cleanse them from existing impurities and changed from the inside out to prevent a recurrence of uncleanness. Then they would be fit to live in the presence of the Holy One and to commune with him.

In the New Testament, the old categories of “clean” and “unclean” are radically revised. This epochal change was revealed in a vision to Peter in Acts 10, when he was shown all kinds of unclean food that he was instructed to eat. But his initial refusal, itself an echo of Ezekiel’s refusal to eat unclean food in Ezekiel 4, was rebuked by God with the words: “Do not call anything impure that God has made clean” (Acts 10:15). A radical change had taken place in redemptive history with the death and resurrection of Christ and the pouring out of the Spirit on the church. At a stroke, the old barriers were broken down. The motivation for change was not that the dietary restrictions would form a barrier to the effective evangelization of Gentiles but that the old wall of separation between Jew and Gentile as God’s people and outsiders had gone in Christ (Eph. 2:11–22). Now the nations could be included in the people of God, and the line between “clean” and “unclean” is determined not by ethnic origins but by faith in Jesus Christ.

It is important that we recognize the nature of this change, however. It is not that the line between clean and unclean, between holy and profane, has been abolished. Rather, it has moved. In Christ, men and women from all nations become “clean” and “holy.” The goal of Exodus 19:6, the creation of a kingdom of priests and a holy people, is fulfilled in the church (Rev. 5:10). No longer are there any gradations of holiness within the holy people: All who are in Christ are sacred, and there is a genuine priesthood that belongs to all believers. For Christians every activity in life is sacred—from reading the Scriptures to emptying the garbage—for all is done to the glory of God. But all those outside of Christ are unclean and profane, no matter their genetic background or their religious fervor. Outside of Christ, their best and most self-denying endeavors are unfit for God’s presence, suited only for the trash heap.

Concern for the name of God. In a similar fashion to the concept of ritual cleanliness, the concern for the “name” of God is likewise a distinctive concern of the Old Testament. The divine name Yahweh was revealed to Moses on Mount Horeb (Ex. 3:14), a decisive progress in the self-revelation of God.11 God’s name was placed on the angel who went ahead of the Israelites into the Promised Land, which means that rebellion against him was tantamount to rebellion against God himself (Ex. 23:21). God’s name also appeared as a virtual hypostasis of the Lord himself, whether coming against his people in judgment (Isa. 30:27) or dwelling in their midst in blessing at the central place of worship (Deut. 12:5, 11). The Aaronic blessing was intended as a means of putting God’s name on the Israelites, so that they might receive his blessing (Num. 6:27).

In the New Testament, concern for God’s name remains a central category. The Lord’s Prayer includes the petition: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name” (Matt. 6:9). The precise focus, however, has shifted. Now the name placed on God’s people is the triune name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit (28:19). There is no longer a central place of worship on which the divine name is placed and where the divine presence is experienced; instead, whenever two or three of his people gather in the name of Jesus, they experience his presence with them (18:20). God’s children are all those who believe in the name of Jesus (John 1:12). Gentiles too are included in this people whom God has chosen for his name (Acts 15:14). By this act of salvation, accomplished through Jesus’ death on the cross, the Father will glorify his name (John 12:28).

God’s exclusive concern with his own name and glory may seem offensively self-absorbed to contemporary readers. We are used to beginning our theological reflection “from below” and celebrating the God who is “for us.” But God is only for us because it brings glory to himself. Moreover, such self-absorption is as great a virtue in God as it is a flaw in human beings. For God to delight in his own perfections is entirely appropriate, since there is no one and nothing greater in which he can delight. To delight in anything less than himself would be idolatry, just as surely as it is idolatry for us as creatures to delight in anything less than our great Creator. Sanctifying his great name, exalting God above all things, is the only task fit for God himself and for humankind, whom he has created in his image.12

Contemporary Significance

LIFE CHANGES. The traditional sea shanty “What Shall We Do With the Drunken Sailor?” considers a number of methods of bringing about behavioral change in the inebriate. “Drag him in the longboat until he’s sober” is one possibility; another is, “Put him in the scuppers and hose him all over.” One doubts, however, that the methods adopted will bring about lasting life-change in the person. Other, more serious, methods of attempting to bring about change in people’s lives exist in the contemporary world. These include Alcoholics Anonymous, “twelve-step” programs for those with various addictions, Weight Watchers and other programs for those whose problem is with eating, and a plethora of counseling resources for behavioral difficulties. Many people spend hours of their time and countless dollars of resources in seeking effective, lasting change.

The motivation for seeking change on the part of the person concerned is frequently the perception that their life is in some way dysfunctional. Such people feel they are not living life to the full, but instead are engaging in lifestyle choices that result in a diminished quality of life. If only they could solve their behavioral problem or find and fix its underlying psychological root, their life will surely be fuller and more meaningful. Then they will be “cured.”

In contrast to this essentially medical model of the human predicament, Ezekiel has presented the Lord’s diagnosis of Israel’s situation. She is not so much sick and in need of a cure, as sinful and in need of purification. Through her past history of sin, she has made herself totally unfit to inhabit God’s land and to exist in his presence. Because of her sin, she is offensive to a holy God. In the language that the apostle Paul applies to all of us, she is “by nature [the] object of [God’s] wrath” (Eph. 2:3). Her lifestyle change is necessary not so much because she is missing out on living life to the full, but because she has forfeited the right to life itself. God’s judgment has descended on her, and she has been scattered among the nations.

This raises the question, “Is such radical change possible?” In contemporary life-change programs, this question is invariably answered in the affirmative: Because of the infinite power of the human spirit, you can kick that habit, lose those pounds, win friends and influence people—at least, so the brochures assure us. This humanistic optimism often carries over into the church. So we assure people, “God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life,” as if that were the most natural and self-evident truth in the world. In consequence, it is not surprising to find that many people approach Christianity as if they were interviewing God for a job, checking out whether as a Deity he is up to the task of being “Lord of their life.” They are seeking to determine whether Christianity will “work for them,” on the assumption that God will be only too pleased to welcome them should they decide in his favor.

The Bible, however, gives us no reason to be so automatically sanguine about the prospect of our acceptance by God. Ever since the fall of Adam and Eve, there has been no “of course” when it comes to the question of the future of the human race. We have collectively walked the tightrope of total destruction by God’s wrath several times. That we have survived as a race is not because we somehow merited God’s favor or because God’s love is more powerful than his wrath and he could not bear to see such delightful creatures as us utterly exterminated. The only reason for the continued existence of human beings on this planet is God’s commitment to his eternal plan sovereignly to save for himself a people.13

What is more, just as Israel was maintained alive by God’s firm determination to glorify himself in and through the people he had chosen, so it is also for us who make up the church. There is no “of course” about our salvation. By nature, we are deservedly dead and have no prospect apart from God’s wrath. It might be a more biblical approach if instead of starting with the love of God, we begin our presentation of the gospel where Paul does in Romans: “The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of men” (Rom. 1:18). That there is another way, as Paul goes on to unfold in what follows, is an astonishing testimony to God’s determination to finish what he started, for his own glory and not for ours. Our salvation is entirely by grace.

Purification and renovation. Because of God’s determination to finish what he started, we can be sure not only that his people will be saved but also that they will be fully sanctified. Israel must be cleansed and made holy if she is to stand in his presence. So also the church, God’s new covenant people, must be purified from their sins and perfected in righteousness. The people who are saved not by works are saved through God’s work, for good works (Eph. 2:9–10).

This work of God in believers is a two-stage process, just as it is depicted in Ezekiel 36.14 First there is an initial work of purification, which corresponds to the outward sprinkling of water on the restored Israel (36:25). Then there is an ongoing work of internal renovation, which Ezekiel describes under the figure of receiving the new heart and new spirit through the internal work of the divine Spirit (36:26–27). These two stages are both necessary to being a Christian, and this passage may well be the one that lies behind Jesus’ statement to Nicodemus, “No one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the Spirit” (John 3:5).15

(1) God’s initial work involves the purification of our sins. In this work, we are the passive recipients of his action in washing away our sins, applying to us the merits of Jesus’ work on the cross (Eph. 5:26). It is the necessity of this cleansing regeneration to which baptism points: When we are baptized, whether as adults or children, we testify to the need we all have for Jesus Christ, whose cleansing blood is symbolized in the water. Baptism points to the need for a change that can only come from the outside, for it can only be done by someone else. It is not so much a testimony of my decision for Jesus as an act of wondering faith that Jesus has decided for me.

Baptism is an act of faith in God’s promises. When Abraham circumcised his children, he knew it was a circumcision of the heart that counted, not an external ceremony. This is the logic behind the baptism of the children of believers in Reformed and Presbyterian churches. When we baptize our children, we know that a baptism of the heart, a new birth through the Holy Spirit, is necessary. Simply applying water to the outside will not save. But in baptism we lay hold by faith of the goodness of God and claim for our children the promise of the Holy Spirit.

What grounds do any of us have as Christians for hoping that our children will grow up to believe the same things that we do? Perhaps some would say, “Well, I send my little Joshua to church; I read the Bible with him; I set him an example in Christian living.” Now all of those things are good, but the only thing you can do for your child by yourself is make your child religious. Only God can give your child the new heart he or she requires. “Well, of course, he’ll do that,” you reply. But why should there be any “of course” about it? The only thing we pass on to our children as “a matter of course” is a sinful nature and a flawed example.

We can be grateful, however, that God has revealed himself as a covenant God, who deals faithfully with us as families as well as individuals (Gen. 17:7). This self-commitment is not simply a blessing for the old covenant order. As Peter told his hearers on the first day of Pentecost: “The promise [of the Holy Spirit] is for you and your children and for all who are far off” (Acts 2:39). That is what people in the Reformed tradition proclaim joyfully to the world when they baptize little ones—that they too have a promise that they can look to God in repentance and faith and receive the promised Holy Spirit. They are acknowledging to themselves and their children that they cannot save themselves—but also that God can, and will, if they look to him in repentance and faith. He will do so, because he is a covenant-keeping God, who does not change and who brings about his determined purpose to save and sanctify a people for himself.16

(2) Thus, God’s “wonderful plan” for our lives is not limited to taking us to heaven; it also includes bringing heaven into us, remaking us into a holy people. He is not content merely to wash his people of their past sins and to impute to them the righteousness of Jesus Christ, he also wills to work a perfect holiness in them. This is the second stage of God’s great work in redeemed humanity: renovation. God’s determinate plan is that we be perfect as he is perfect (Matt. 5:48), that when Jesus Christ returns, we be completely purified from all sin (1 John 3:2–6). To be sure, that purpose is not yet a present reality. Everyone living in this world does, in fact, still sin (1 John 1:8). But the Spirit has been poured out into our hearts, in a measure that Old Testament saints could only dream about, in order that the process might begin in us here and now in full assurance that on that day it will be completed.

To be sure, Old Testament saints also experienced the renewing work of the Spirit of God (Ps. 51:10–11).17 But in their experience the work was always partial, always provisional. Now that Christ has died and risen, the Spirit of God has been given to us in full measure, so that by him we might put to death the misdeeds of the body (Rom. 8:13). At present, we may experience only the firstfruits of the Spirit’s work, and we await with eagerness the fullness of redemption (8:23). But just as we look forward to the day when we will be done with sin and long for its coming, so also that promise of God provides the incentive to holy living here and now (1 John 3:3).

A feeling of shame. Finally, God’s “wonderful plan” for our lives does not exclude the possibility of shame over past sins. Renewed Israel was to “be ashamed and disgraced” over their conduct, even to the point of self-loathing for their “sins and detestable practices” (Ezek. 36:31–32). Modern people may view such self-loathing as psychologically unhealthy, urging the foundational importance of a high self-esteem.18

The Bible takes a different view of our position, however. As we grow in our appreciation of the gospel, we do not view ourselves in a better and better light. Rather, with Paul, we understand the true offensiveness of our sin, so that we come to view ourselves as the worst of sinners (1 Tim. 1:15). We grow to understand that, by nature, we are far worse than we ever could have imagined, that the wrath of God against my personal sin is fully justified, and that even in my best moments, in my most righteous acts, I deserve nothing other than utter damnation. My heart is indeed deceitful above all things and beyond cure (Jer. 17:9). As a Christian, the first thing I need to know, as the Heidelberg Catechism reminds us, is how great are my sin and misery.19 That knowledge should induce an appropriate level of sorrow and shame over my sin.

However, as Paul says in a different context, we should not grieve as those who have no hope (1 Thess. 4:13). Though we are indeed far worse than we could have imagined, the gospel reminds us also that in Christ we are far more loved than we could have imagined. It reminds us that though we are and remain sinners all our days on earth, we are at the same time as Christians justified sinners, who will one day certainly be glorified sinners, perfect in holiness. This is certain because it rests on God’s unchanging and eternal decree, not on my fallible and failing efforts. And if God is for us, though the present struggle may be hard and long, the eternal outcome is secure.