Adapted from insights by Ray C. Stedman and other biblical reflections.
Opening Story #
A man once climbed onto his roof to adjust a stubborn television aerial. It was one of those quiet afternoons when the sky is calm, the neighbourhood still, and the mind occupied with small tasks that feel harmless. But as he leaned forward to tighten a bolt, his foot slipped on a patch of dust, and suddenly the world tilted beneath him. He slid toward the gutter, scrambling for anything to hold. His hands caught the eaves trough, and there he hung, suspended between the familiar safety of the roof and the unknown distance below.
He dared not look down. He had no idea whether the fall would break a leg or take his life. His arms trembled under the strain, and panic rose like a tide inside him. In desperation, he cried out, “Oh God, help me!” To his astonishment, a voice answered, not thunderous, not distant, but steady and near: “I am ready to help you.” Relief washed over him. “Tell me what to do,” he pleaded. The voice asked, “Do you trust me?” He answered quickly, “Yes, I trust you.” Then came the instruction he did not expect: “All right then. Let go.”
The man froze. Let go? Release the only thing keeping him from falling? The command felt unreasonable, frightening, even reckless. And so, with a trembling voice, he called out again, “Is there anybody else up there who can help me?”
That moment captures the human condition with painful accuracy. We cry out for God’s help, but when His answer requires trust, surrender, or obedience, we hesitate. We want rescue without relinquishing control. We want deliverance without dependence. We want God’s intervention, but not God’s terms. And this tension, this deep reluctance to trust the God who speaks, is the very tension Ezekiel exposes with prophetic clarity.
Introduction to the Book of Ezekiel #
The book of Ezekiel is one of Scripture’s most penetrating examinations of the human condition. On the surface, it traces the causes of Israel’s captivity, why the nation was in so much trouble, why judgment fell, and why exile became unavoidable. But Ezekiel is not merely the story of a nation. It is the story of any individual. And because it is the story of any individual, it becomes the story of all humanity.
The Old Testament was written with this principle in mind: what happens to the nation is exactly what happens to us. The patterns of rebellion, the drift toward idolatry, the refusal to trust God, the consequences of spiritual neglect; these are not ancient curiosities but present realities. By looking carefully at Ezekiel, we see our own problems and circumstances exemplified in the problems and circumstances outlined in this book.
Ezekiel himself was a captive in Babylon. He had been carried away by Nebuchadnezzar when Judah fell, as Jeremiah had prophesied. He is the first prophet of the captivity. Two prophets ministered during this seventy‑year exile, Ezekiel and Daniel. Ezekiel, older than Daniel, prophesied during the first twenty to twenty‑five years of the captivity, speaking to a people disoriented, discouraged, and spiritually numb.
The story of Ezekiel is the story of human life. And fittingly, the book begins with a tremendous vision of God, because all life begins with God. God is the greatest fact in existence, the foundation of all reality. Anyone who wants to think clearly about life must begin with Him. Scripture begins this way: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 1:1 NIV). Ezekiel begins the same way, with a mystic, overwhelming vision of God’s glory. Ezekiel saw God more clearly than any other prophet. If your heart needs to be set on fire by the revelation of God’s character and majesty, read Ezekiel. He is the prophet of the glory of God.
The Vision of God’s Glory: The True Beginning of Understanding #
By the River Chebar, Ezekiel sees a storm wind, a radiant cloud, and fire flashing like polished metal. Then he describes the four living creatures, each with four faces: a man, an eagle, an ox, and a lion. These faces turn in every direction, seeing all things, moving with perfect awareness. The symbolism is ancient and profound. The lion represents sovereignty and supremacy, the king of beasts. The man represents intelligence and understanding. The ox represents servitude and sacrifice. The eagle represents power and deity, soaring above creation.
These four qualities have echoed through history, and remarkably, they appear again in the four Gospels. Matthew presents Christ as the sovereign King, the lion. Mark presents Him as the servant, the ox. Luke presents Him as the perfect man, intelligent, compassionate, understanding. John presents Him as divine, the eagle. Ezekiel, without knowing it, is seeing the character of Christ in symbolic form.
After the creatures, Ezekiel sees wheels, great wheels turning, one wheel within another. An old spiritual song captures the image: “Ezekiel saw a wheel way up in the middle of the air; the big wheel ran by faith, and the little wheel ran by the grace of God.” These wheels move in perfect harmony, guided by the Spirit, symbolizing God’s omnipresence and omnidirectional sovereignty. Nothing is random. Nothing is out of control. Everything moves according to the will of the One who sits enthroned above.
Above the creatures and the wheels is a firmament, shining, crystalline, radiant. And above the firmament is a throne. And on the throne sits “a figure like that of a man” (Ezekiel 1:26 NIV). If you have read Revelation, you will recognize the parallels. John also sees four living creatures. He also sees a throne. He also sees One seated upon it. Ezekiel and John are beholding the same reality, the majesty of God revealed in symbolic form.
We cannot interpret every detail. There is mystery here, because there is mystery in God Himself. But the meaning is clear enough: Ezekiel is seeing the power, the sovereignty, the holiness, and the glory of God. And even though Ezekiel does not fully understand the significance of his vision, he is seeing, as clearly as he can, the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 4:6 NIV). God reveals Himself through Christ, and Ezekiel’s vision is a foreshadowing of that revelation.
From this overwhelming encounter, Ezekiel moves quickly into prophecies that expose the failure of man.
The Departure of Glory: A Slow, Painful Withdrawal #
Ezekiel watches as the radiant presence of God, the very heart of Israel’s identity, moves step by step away from the temple. First the glory rises from above the cherubim and pauses at the threshold. Then it moves to the east gate. Finally, it ascends from the Mount of Olives and disappears. The God who once dwelled among His people now leaves the place they have defiled with idolatry, injustice, and spiritual apathy.
This departure is not merely historical; it is existential. It reveals what happens when a people persistently reject the God who formed them. They lose not only His protection but His presence. They become spiritually hollow, like a temple without glory, a body without breath.
Symbolic Actions: Ezekiel as a Living Message #
Because the people are spiritually deaf, God turns Ezekiel himself into a living parable. His life becomes the message. The prophet is not merely a speaker of God’s word; he becomes the embodiment of it. Ezekiel’s actions are dramatic, strange, and unforgettable, precisely because God is trying to break through the numbness of a people who have grown accustomed to ignoring Him.
At this point in the book, Ezekiel enters a lengthy passage tracing the degradation of man, the tragic result of rejecting God’s grace. He shows how God struggles with His people, calling them, appealing to them, seeking to win them back. God tries to awaken them to the foolishness of turning their backs on His glory. Yet they persist, and so they pass through seasons of difficulty, heartache, and punishment. These are not arbitrary punishments; they are God’s persistent attempts to bring His people to their senses, to show them that humanity is made for fellowship with God, and without Him, people only go farther and farther into weakness, folly, and degradation.
To communicate this truth, Ezekiel is commanded to enact symbolic actions that dramatize centuries of divine patience and human refusal. On one occasion, God instructs him to lie on his left side every day for 390 days, more than a year. Then he must lie on his right side for 40 days. These actions symbolize the 390 years during which God struggled to bring Israel to repentance, and the final 40 years when judgment was imminent. For centuries God held back His hand, delaying judgment, appealing to His people, calling them to return. But at last He allowed Nebuchadnezzar to sweep into Jerusalem, sack the city, desolate the temple, and carry the people into Babylon.
Ezekiel’s symbolic acts are not theatrics; they are divine pedagogy. They reveal the patience of God, the persistence of His grace, and the tragedy of human refusal. His actions dramatize the truth that judgment is not arbitrary but the natural outcome of a long refusal to listen. They show that when people neglect the God who is utterly essential to their being, when they refuse His love and His grace, the only thing left is to experience the consequences of turning away from Him.
Through these symbolic actions, Ezekiel becomes a living commentary on the consequences of spiritual drift. His body, his posture, his daily routine, all become prophetic signs pointing to the righteousness of God’s judgment and the seriousness of human rebellion. And as Ezekiel performs these acts, he sees through the judgment that falls upon the people to the deeper forces behind their rebellion. Human corruption is never merely human. There are spiritual powers, principalities, and forces of darkness that distort wisdom, fuel pride, and oppose God’s purposes. Ezekiel’s symbolic actions expose both the visible and invisible dimensions of rebellion, showing that the degradation of man is part of a larger spiritual conflict.
The Powers Behind Human Evil: The Prince and King of Tyre #
Ezekiel 28 reveals that behind human arrogance lies a deeper and more ancient rebellion. The prophet begins by addressing the ruler of Tyre, a proud and wealthy king whose heart is lifted up by his success. But as the oracle unfolds, the language rises beyond human pride into cosmic dimensions. Ezekiel describes a being whose story cannot be confined to earthly royalty, a being who was “blameless in your ways from the day you were created till wickedness was found in you” (Ezekiel 28:15 NIV).
Many Bible scholars have recognized that this passage can be fully understood only as referring to the fall of Satan himself. It is one of only two passages in Scripture that describe this event. Ezekiel writes:
“Your heart was proud because of your beauty; you corrupted your wisdom for the sake of your splendour. So I threw you to the earth; I made a spectacle of you before kings.” (Ezekiel 28:17-18a NIV)
Here we see the essence of Satan’s fall: pride, the exaltation of self over God. Isaiah 14 gives the companion picture, where the Prince of Darkness declares “I will” five times, each statement a step upward in self‑exaltation, each a refusal to acknowledge God’s sovereignty. Pride corrupted wisdom. Pride distorted beauty. Pride turned a glorious being into the adversary of God.
Ezekiel’s vision shows that human rebellion is never merely human. The arrogance of kings, the corruption of nations, the collapse of societies- these are not only political or psychological phenomena. They are reflections of a deeper spiritual conflict. Principalities and powers, the world rulers of this present darkness, distort wisdom, fuel pride, and oppose God’s purposes in the world.
By exposing the king behind the king, the spiritual power behind the earthly ruler, Ezekiel reveals the true nature of evil. Human corruption mirrors cosmic rebellion. Human pride echoes Satanic pride. And God’s judgment addresses both the visible and invisible dimensions of sin.
The Valley of Dry Bones, God’s Restoring Grace #
After chapters of judgment, Ezekiel is given one of the most hopeful and unforgettable visions in Scripture. The prophet is taken by the Spirit of the Lord to a valley filled with dry bones, not merely dead bodies, but bones long separated, bleached, brittle, scattered across the landscape. It is a picture of utter lifelessness, a symbol of hopelessness so complete that no human imagination could conceive of restoration.
God asks Ezekiel, “Son of man, can these bones live?” (Ezekiel 37:3 NIV). Ezekiel answers with humility and realism: “Sovereign Lord, you alone know.” Only God can answer a question that defies human possibility.
God commands Ezekiel to prophesy over the bones, and as he speaks, the bones begin to rattle. They move toward one another, joining into skeletons. Tendons appear, flesh forms, skin covers them. It is a remarkable sight, the valley transforming from chaos to structure, from fragments to bodies. Yet there is still no breath in them. They are formed, but not alive.
Then God commands Ezekiel to prophesy to the breath, to call upon the Spirit of God. And the breath comes, the divine wind, the life‑giving Spirit, and enters the bodies. They stand on their feet, a vast army, alive by the power of God alone.
This vision has inspired songs and sermons for generations, but its meaning is deeper than its imagery. It is a picture of God’s restoring grace, a revelation of what God intends to do with the nation of Israel. As far as God is concerned, Israel has been lying for centuries in a state of spiritual death, scattered, lifeless, without breath. But a day is coming when God will breathe upon this nation again. Like these dry bones, Israel will receive new life, and God will use it to re‑establish His kingdom purposes on earth.
The valley of dry bones is not only Israel’s story; it is the story of every heart that has known spiritual desolation. It reveals that no situation is too hopeless, no life too fractured, no soul too barren for God’s breath to restore. When God speaks, bones move. When God breathes, life returns. When God acts, hope rises from the dust.
The Final Battle and the Future Temple, God’s Ultimate Renewal #
In chapters 38 and 39, Ezekiel is carried far into the distant future. He sees the last great assault upon Israel, a final, climactic attack by enemies who gather from the ends of the earth. The prophet watches as these hostile forces surge toward the land, confident in their strength and determined to destroy God’s people. But their confidence is misplaced. They are met not by human armies but by heavenly intervention. God Himself enters the battle. Judgment falls upon the invaders on the mountains of Israel, and they are buried there, a testimony to the sovereignty of God and the futility of opposing His purposes.
This vision of the final battle is not merely geopolitical; it is theological. It reveals that God will defend His people in the end, that evil will not have the last word, and that the forces arrayed against God’s kingdom will ultimately be defeated by His power alone.
Then, beginning in chapter 40, Ezekiel is shown something entirely different, a vision of restoration so detailed, so expansive, and so filled with glory that it stands as one of the most remarkable passages in Scripture. The prophet is taken to a high mountain and shown the future millennial temple. He sees its measurements, its chambers, its courts, its gates, all laid out with precise detail. But the heart of the vision is not architectural; it is spiritual. Ezekiel sees the glory of God returning to the Holy of Holies. The Shekinah presence, which once departed from the temple in sorrow, now returns in triumph. God once again dwells among His people.
The book moves toward its climax in chapter 47, where Ezekiel sees a river flowing from beneath the throne of God. It begins as a trickle, issuing from the threshold of the temple, but it grows rapidly into a mighty torrent. It flows eastward, down across the land, and into the Dead Sea, and the waters of the sea become fresh. Everywhere the river flows, life appears. Trees spring up on both sides of the river. Fish swarm in the waters. The barren places become fertile. The stagnant places become alive. It is a marvellous picture of the Spirit of God in the day of the millennial kingdom.
This is the literal interpretation, a prophecy of Israel’s restoration. But Ezekiel’s vision does not end with national hope alone. If we read it only in that way, we miss much of its beauty and all of its personal power. For what God does on a large scale in the history of the world, He is ready to do on a smaller scale in the history of your life. As He is ready to call a nation out of death and breathe life into its dry bones, so He is ready to call an individual out of spiritual barrenness and breathe life into the human spirit.
Here, then, is a beautiful picture of the saving grace of Jesus Christ, making us alive in Him, restoring us to the glory of the manhood and womanhood God intends for us. The enemies Israel faces in Ezekiel’s vision mirror the enemies we face in our own lives: fear, pride, sin, despair, and God goes before us to defeat them one by one as we walk by faith.
Finally, Ezekiel’s closing vision becomes a picture of the restored temple within the human person. Paul writes, “We are the temple of the living God” (2 Corinthians 6:16 NIV). What is the temple in us? It is the human spirit, the holy of holies where God intends to dwell. The secret of a full human experience, a life of significance and meaning, is the discovery of the resources of the Holy Spirit.
Ezekiel portrays this beautifully in chapter 47. The river flows from the throne, the place of supreme authority, and passes by the altar, the place of sacrifice. The Spirit’s power comes only through the cross of Christ. As the prophet is led step by step into the river, the waters rise, ankle‑deep, knee‑deep, waist‑deep, until they become a river to swim in. This is the picture of a life increasingly surrendered to God, increasingly filled with His Spirit, increasingly carried along by His grace.
Wherever the river flows, life appears. Fruitfulness replaces barrenness. Healing replaces stagnation. Strength replaces weakness. This is the Christian life, not a plodding, difficult struggle, but a mighty, gushing torrent of living water flowing from the throne of God through the centre of life.
Ezekiel sees this river. John sees it again in Revelation: “the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city.” (Revelation 22:1-2 NIV)
It flows through the middle of life, not around it, not beside it, but through its very centre. This is the river Jesus spoke of when He stood in the temple courts and cried out:
“Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink… Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.” (John 7:37-38 NIV)
John adds, “By this he meant the Spirit” (John 7:39 NIV). This is the resource of the Christian life, the Spirit flowing from the throne of God, through the sacrifice of Christ, into the human spirit, producing fruitfulness, healing, strength, and life wherever He goes.
Ezekiel’s vision shows the Spirit’s work in stages: ankle-deep, knee‑deep, waist‑deep, and finally waters to swim in. It is the picture of a life increasingly surrendered to God, increasingly filled with His Spirit, increasingly carried along by His grace. And wherever the river flows, life appears. Barrenness becomes fruitfulness. Stagnation becomes vitality. Weakness becomes strength. This is the Christian life, not a plodding struggle, but a mighty, gushing torrent of living water flowing from the throne of God through the centre of life.
The prophet sees this river. He sees its source, its power, its depth, its fruitfulness. And he sees its destination, the Dead Sea, the most lifeless body of water on earth, becoming fresh. Everything lives where the river goes.
Finally, Ezekiel closes his book with a breathtaking declaration. After describing the restored temple, the renewed land, the healed waters, and the re‑established presence of God, he gives the city its final name: “The LORD is there.” (Ezekiel 48:35 NIV)
This is the heart of Ezekiel’s message: that God Himself is present with His people. It is the assurance that restoration is not a distant dream but a divine intention, that the Spirit of God is not merely promised but given, and that the destiny of the people of God is nothing less than life lived in the radiance of His presence. Wherever God dwells, life begins to return. Hope rises again from places where it once lay buried. What was dry and lifeless is animated with breath. What was stagnant begins to move with purpose. What was fractured is gathered into wholeness. And the human spirit, once barren, once empty, once a valley of dry bones, becomes the dwelling place of the living God.
When God enters a situation that appears barren, hopeless, or beyond repair, that very place becomes the setting for new beginnings. What once looked like permanent ruin becomes the soil in which God can plant restoration. Desolation, emptiness, lifelessness, collapse, is not the end when God is there. His presence transforms what seemed impossible into the realm of possibility.
When God is present, despair gives way to courage. When God is present, the bones that seemed beyond repair stand upright as a vast army. When God is present, the river of His Spirit flows through the centre of life, bringing healing, fruitfulness, and renewal wherever it goes. When God is present, the city is restored, the temple is filled, and the name of the place becomes its identity: The Lord is there. And when God is present in the human heart, that heart becomes the holy of holies where His glory rests, His Spirit moves, and His life transforms everything it touches.
So What? Why Ezekiel Matters Today #
Ezekiel is not merely a record of ancient visions or national collapse. It is a mirror held up to the human heart. It asks us to see ourselves in Israel’s story, to recognize our own resistance, our own wandering, our own longing for God’s help paired with our fear of His commands.
Here is what Ezekiel presses upon us:
1. We must begin with God’s glory, not our circumstances. #
Ezekiel’s first vision is not about Babylon, suffering, or exile. It is about God-majestic, sovereign, radiant. Before Ezekiel can speak of judgment or hope, he must see the One who sits enthroned above all creation. The book insists that life cannot be understood apart from God’s character. We begin with Him, or we begin nowhere.
2. We must face the truth about our rebellion. #
Ezekiel does not soften the reality of human sin. He shows how idolatry corrodes the soul, how pride blinds the mind, how self‑reliance leads to ruin. He shows that God’s judgment is not arbitrary but the inevitable consequence of turning away from the One who gives life. Ezekiel forces us to confront the ways we cling to the eaves troughs of our own making, our control, our habits, our fears, while refusing to trust the God who calls us to let go.
3. We must recognize the spiritual forces that distort our world. #
Ezekiel’s vision of the “king of Tyre” reveals that behind human arrogance and corruption lies a deeper rebellion-a spiritual enemy whose pride led to downfall. The prophet reminds us that our struggles are not merely psychological or political; they are spiritual. We live in a world where unseen powers twist wisdom, fuel pride, and oppose God’s purposes.
4. We must believe in God’s power to restore what seems beyond repair. #
The valley of dry bones is not simply a metaphor for Israel’s future. It is a portrait of God’s ability to revive what is dead-dreams, courage, faith, identity. Ezekiel teaches that no situation is too hopeless, no heart too hardened, no life too fractured for God’s breath to restore.
5. We must live toward God’s promised future. #
Ezekiel ends not with despair but with a river flowing from God’s throne, bringing life to barren places and healing even the Dead Sea. It is a vision of the world made right, of God dwelling with His people, of creation restored. Ezekiel calls us to live with our eyes fixed on that future, trusting that God’s story ends in renewal, not ruin.
In short, Ezekiel asks us to stop clinging to the edges of our own strength and to trust the God who calls us to release our fear and rest in His sovereignty.
Closing Story #
Years ago, a woman told me she had spent most of her adult life gripping the edges of her existence with white‑knuckled determination. Outwardly composed, inwardly exhausted, she lived like someone hanging from the eaves trough of her own self‑reliance, terrified of falling, terrified of trusting, terrified of letting go.
One evening, after reading Ezekiel’s vision of the dry bones, she whispered a prayer she had never dared to pray: “Lord, breathe into me.” Slowly, quietly, unmistakably, something changed. Peace settled where anxiety had lived. Courage rose where fear had ruled. Hope emerged where resignation had taken root.
She later said, “I didn’t fall. I was caught.”
Her story is Ezekiel’s message in human form:
- God restores what we cannot revive.
- God breathes where we cannot live.
- God rebuilds what we cannot repair.
And when we finally let go, when we release the illusion of control and trust the God who calls us, He does not let us fall. He lifts us, restores us, and breathes life into the places we thought were beyond redemption.
Resources #
For more references, please see the following:
- Ezekiel: Wheel, Bones, and Restoration
- Bible Project: Ezekiel Part 1
- Bible Project: Ezekiel Part 2
- The Gospel Coalition - Commentary on Ezekiel