But mine eye spared them so as not to destroy them, neither did I make a full end of them in the wilderness.
In this chapter God retraces Israel's story, from the day He brought them out of Egypt to their rebellion in the wilderness. Here He says He held back from wiping them out — so how can a sentence of death and an act of sparing come from the same God?
One writer traces the steps that led to this moment:
For His own name's sake God had brought them up from Egypt, and given them His statutes and His sabbaths — the sabbaths also as a sign of the covenant between God and the people. But Israel had rebelled against God in the wilderness, and even then He had thought to destroy them. But He spared them, and He warned their children too, who still followed their fathers' ways.
Mercy and judgment are not in conflict here. Both belong to the way God governs a rebellious people:
So God forgave Israel, and acted for His Name's sake. But there was also the righteous government of God, which He describes to Ezekiel… His government of the rebellious vindicated His Name as a merciful God, for that generation died off little by little in the wilderness.
So the sparing did not cancel the sentence. That generation still died in the desert. God simply did not end the nation there.
What held the blow back was not any improvement in the people. The next generation was no better than the last:
Jehovah felt compassion for them. But He had to assert His authority, the rightness of His judgments, and the special value of His sabbaths, as between Him and them. It was all in vain! The children in the wilderness were as bad as their fathers who fell. Nothing but His own care for the name they profaned stood between Israel and destruction.
Love had another reason to hold back:
God's eye had spared them, so as not to destroy them or make a full end of them in the wilderness. Once again He took their children by the hand, telling them not to walk in their fathers' statutes, and not to defile themselves with their idols, for He was Jehovah their God. But they answered as before… Even before they reached the land, He had to threaten them again with the wrath that love and pity held back. They were to be the bearers of His name before the nations. How could He destroy the only thing that remained as a witness at all?
God ties His own honour to His people, and that cuts both ways. His name rests on them, so He will not destroy them — and for the same reason He will not ignore their sin:
God delivers and secures His own glory. But for the very same reason God allows no evil, because His name is connected with His people, as we see in Israel: "You only have I known of all the families of the earth; therefore I will punish you for all your iniquities."
Falling under God's discipline on the road is a different matter from being lost. One writer points to the men who died in the desert and yet belonged to God:
But their falling in the wilderness had nothing to do with the saving of their souls: Moses and Aaron died in the wilderness too, and we know they were saints of Jehovah.
The sparing is not only past history. The same chapter looks ahead to a future gathering on the same principle:
They had rebelled on their road to that land in the wilderness. Despite all His grace they had polluted themselves, and God determined to scatter them among the nations. But God would fulfil all His purposes, and would yet re-gather them… As He pleaded with their fathers, and purged them in the wilderness, so would He yet do to the returning house of Israel.
- Cause — rebellion. Israel rebelled in the wilderness, and their children walked the same way.
- Restraint — His name. Nothing in the people held back the blow. God's own care for the name they were profaning stood between Israel and destruction.
- Reason — the witness. Love and pity spared a people who were to carry His name before the nations. Destroying them would have left no witness at all.
- Balance — mercy inside government. The sentence still ran, and that generation died in the desert. But God's mercy kept Him from making a full end of them.
- Result — purging, not ending. He pleaded with the fathers and purged them in the wilderness. He will deal the same way with Israel when He gathers them again — for His name's sake, not theirs.
And I said unto their children in the wilderness, Walk not in the statutes of your fathers, neither keep their ordinances, nor defile yourselves with their idols.
This chapter takes Israel back through their own history — Egypt, the wilderness, the land. Verse 18 is where God turns from the generation that fell and speaks to their children, offering a fresh start to people whose parents had handed them idols.
God had already marked out these children. He did it at the very moment He sentenced their parents to die in the desert.
God had kept careful note of the ways of His people. He said to Moses, "None of the men who have seen My glory and My signs, which I did in Egypt and in the wilderness, and yet have put Me to the test these ten times and have not obeyed My voice" (Num. 14:22). Then He passed His sentence: "Your dead bodies shall fall in this wilderness." And He added: "But your little ones, who you said would become a prey, I will bring in, and they shall know the land that you have rejected" (verses 29–31). These "little ones" are those of whom Jehovah speaks in Ezekiel 20:18.
The warning is not cold. God had just held back from destroying the nation. Now He reaches for the children Himself, and names what had ruined their parents.
God had been ready to bring that generation into the land He had promised them. But He could not. Their hearts were still set on the idols they had seen Him strike down blow after blow. What use is a convinced mind when the heart has chosen to go astray! God's eye had spared them, so He did not destroy them or make a full end of them in the wilderness. Once again He took their children by the hand, saying: "Do not walk in the statutes of your fathers, nor keep their rules, nor defile yourselves with their idols: I am Jehovah your God." … They again refused the statutes that their own consciences approved. They profaned the sabbaths, the sign of the rest He wanted for them.
The verse sets one word against itself. There are "statutes" belonging to the fathers, and there are statutes belonging to God — and the children are told to leave the first and take the second.
Jehovah felt deep compassion. But He must still assert His authority, the rightness of His judgments, and the special value of His sabbaths, in His dealings with them.
The same pattern runs through the whole chapter: a warning given, a warning ignored, and God acting on a motive found in Himself rather than in them.
But Israel had rebelled against God in the wilderness, and even then He had thought to destroy them. But He spared them, warning at the same time their children also, who nevertheless followed their fathers' ways. Still, for His name's sake, God withdrew His hand on account of the heathen in whose sight He had brought the people up from Egypt.
The next verses say plainly how they answered. The fresh generation turned out to be the old one over again.
Jehovah calls this second generation to give up the ways of their fathers and to walk in His ways. Sadly, they were just like their fathers. The Lord has to say of them, "But the children rebelled against Me. They did not walk in My statutes and were not careful to obey My rules" (Ezek. 20:21).
Kelly names the one thing that kept the nation alive: "The children in the wilderness were as bad as their fathers who fell. Nothing but His own care for the name they profaned stood between Israel and destruction" (William Kelly).
The command still bites today. It cuts at any way of life we keep only because someone handed it down to us. Writers note how comfortable that is, and what it costs.
It is always easier to follow tradition than the written word of God. Doing so does not exercise the conscience, and it saves us the difficulty — sometimes a serious one — of giving reasons for what we do. It is enough that we have been brought up from infancy to believe and practise certain things, and to walk in a certain path. If it was right and good for our elders, why not for us? … What has been handed down from father to son may not be bad in itself. It may even have been good, at least for its time. But it sets up a false standard and a human authority in the soul. Even if that authority does not deny the authority of the word of God, it will certainly put it in second place.
- Spared — these children are the "little ones." God promised to bring them into the land while their parents' bodies fell in the desert.
- Summoned — He takes them by the hand and names the break He wants: their fathers' statutes, rules and idols, all left behind.
- Standard — in place of their fathers' ways God presses His own authority, His judgments and His sabbaths, the sign of the rest He wanted for them.
- Stubborn — the children answered just as their parents had. A new setting does not change a heart.
- Sustained — what kept Israel standing was not their answer but God's care for the name they had profaned.
I [am] Jehovah your God walk in my statutes, and keep mine ordinances, and do them;
Ezekiel 20 opens with Israel's elders coming to ask God for a word. Instead of an answer, they get their own family history read back to them — Egypt, the wilderness, the land. Verse 19 sits in the wilderness part of that history. There God turns from the generation that fell and speaks fresh terms to their children.
The men in front of Ezekiel were the recognised leaders, and God's refusal to be consulted by them is followed by a long recital of what their fathers did.
What right do they have to inquire of Him? He has set fully before them the terms on which He alone can be with them. The prophets God raised up pressed those terms on them again and again, and all that time they broke them. Their own consciences would witness that their hearts were untrue in the inquiry itself. So there was nothing to do but remind them of their fathers' evil ways: they would find in them a mirror of their own.
Who are the "children" God speaks to here? God had already marked them out when their parents were sentenced.
God had noted the ways of His people with care. He said to Moses that all those men had seen His glory and His miracles in Egypt and in the wilderness, and had still put Him to the test ten times and had not obeyed His voice (Num. 14:22). Then He passed sentence: their dead bodies would fall in that wilderness. But He added that He would bring in the little ones they had said would become a prey, and they would know the land they had rejected (verses 29–31). These "little ones" are the ones Jehovah speaks of in Ezekiel 20:18.
Why did God speak fresh terms to a second generation at all? And why does He ask for walking, and not only for agreement?
God had been ready to bring that generation into the land He had promised them. He could not, because their hearts were still set on the idols they had seen Him strike blow after blow. How useless that a man's mind should be convinced when his heart is deliberately astray! God's eye spared them, so He did not destroy them or make a full end of them in the wilderness. Once again He took their children by the hand.
That short sentence is not an aside before the commands. It is the ground they stand on.
Jehovah had brought them into a certain relationship with Himself, and that relationship had its own privileges and responsibilities. "I am the LORD your God." This was to be the ground of their conduct. They were to act in a way worthy of the One who had become their God, and made them His people. It was not that they were any better than other people. By no means.
So what are these statutes for, and what do they say about the God who gave them?
It is not of His miracles that He speaks here, but of the statutes and judgments which He had given them, which pointed to the way of life. His sabbaths were the seal on all these, a sign between God and them of the rest which He designed for them. He was not a hard taskmaster, but their gracious Deliverer.
How did this generation answer, and why did the nation survive?
Jehovah was moved with compassion. But He had to assert His authority, the rightness of His judgments, and the special value of His sabbaths, as between Him and them. In vain! The children in the wilderness were as bad as their fathers who fell. Only His own care for the name they profaned stood between Israel and destruction.
- Mirror — The elders wanted a word about their future. God held up their fathers' record, so they would see their own faces in it.
- Children — The new word goes to the children of the generation that fell — the "little ones" God promised to bring in.
- Ground — "I am the LORD your God" comes first: the relationship is the reason for the conduct, not a reward for it.
- Life — The statutes He asks them to walk in pointed to the way of life; the Giver is their Deliverer, not a hard taskmaster.
- Name — The children answered like their fathers. Only God's care for His own name kept the nation from destruction.
and hallow my sabbaths; and they shall be a sign between me and you, that ye may know that I [am] Jehovah your God.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And the children rebelled against me they walked not in my statutes, neither kept mine ordinances to do them, which if a man do, he shall live by them; they profaned my sabbaths and I said I would pour out my fury upon them, to accomplish mine anger against them in the wilderness.
In this chapter God retells Israel's history, from their birth as a nation in Egypt down to Ezekiel's own day. Here He turns to the second generation in the wilderness, the children of those who fell, and asks whether they were any different.
The people in this verse are not the generation that came out of Egypt. They are its children. God spoke to them directly and told them to break the family pattern.
Jehovah calls this second generation to renounce the ways of their fathers and to walk in His ways. Sadly, they were just like their fathers. The Lord has to say of them, "But the children rebelled against me. They did not walk in my statutes and were not careful to obey my rules." The rebellion of Korah, and the murmuring that followed, with the divine judgments that came of it in Numbers 16, was probably the responsibility of the first generation. But the judgments of the fiery serpents in Numbers 21, and of Baal-peor in Numbers 25, certainly involved the second generation.
The same failure repeats. One writer reads the whole national story as a single unbroken line.
What is most obvious here is the moral unity of the generations that followed one another. There is a perfect monotony of evil all the way through, from the nation's birth in Egypt to Ezekiel's time. Nothing else can be expected until God acts in the sovereignty of His own grace, and at last fulfils His promises despite this continuous rebellion.
These rules carried life for whoever kept them. The offer was real, and so was the condition.
While in Egypt, and until Israel took up the law, God had dealt with His people in grace. But at the foot of Sinai they bound themselves in a covenant of blood to keep every commandment of the law. They did not realise their own weakness and sinful state. If they had kept the law, they would have lived. By breaking it they brought themselves under the curse attached to it. The law they could not keep fully exposed their ignorance of themselves and their self-will.
One writer finds a second sense in the same phrase.
Sin is present everywhere, so the covenant of law had no life in it. Yet there is another sense in which we should understand the words "by which, if a person does them, he shall live." There is really a path of life, though grace alone can put us in it or keep us there. Eternal life and disobedience are in fact opposites. The gospel does not alter this: grace fully affirms it.
The verse names the Sabbaths alongside the statutes. One writer explains what they sealed.
He does not speak here of the miracles and deliverances He had worked for them, but of the statutes and judgments He had given them, which pointed to the way of life. His sabbaths were the seal on all these, a sign between God and them of the rest He designed for them. He was not a hard taskmaster but their gracious Deliverer. He would always point them to that rest, for themselves and even for their cattle. It recalled the rest at creation, when God was satisfied with the perfect goodness of all that He had made, and He Himself rested.
The verse ends with God saying He would pour out His wrath in the wilderness. They deserved the threat. Nothing in the people themselves stopped it.
The Lord felt compassion, but He must assert His authority, the rightness of His judgments, and the special value of His sabbaths, as something between Him and them. It was all in vain! The children in the wilderness were as bad as their fathers who fell. Only His own care for the name they profaned stood between Israel and destruction.
- Children — God told the second generation to drop their fathers' ways. They repeated them instead.
- Continuity — From Egypt to Ezekiel's day the record shows a "perfect monotony of evil." No new generation broke it.
- Conditions — The statutes promised life to whoever kept them. Israel could not keep them, so the curse fell instead.
- Covenant sign — The Sabbaths they profaned sealed the whole system. They marked the rest God intended, and recalled His own rest at creation.
- Cause of mercy — Nothing in the people held back the wrath. Only God's care for His own name stood between them and destruction.
But I withdrew my hand, and wrought for my name's sake, that it should not be profaned in the sight of the nations, in whose sight I had brought them out.
Elders of Israel come to ask God for a word. Instead He gives them a long review of their history — Egypt, the wilderness, the land. Verse 22 sits at the low point of it. God had said He would pour out His fury on a second rebellious generation. Then He stopped.
The phrase at the heart of this verse is not said only here. One writer treats it as the thread that holds Israel's whole history together:
Jehovah then looks back over His ways with Israel, right back to their captivity in Egypt. He also looks ahead. Despite all they have been, He will bring them into the full blessing He had promised. The secret of God's goodness and patience is found in the words, spoken four times, "But I worked for My Name's sake."
The people spared here are not the generation that left Egypt. They are their children. God told these children not to copy their fathers. They did it anyway.
Jehovah felt compassion for them. But He had to assert His authority, the rightness of His judgments, and the special value of His sabbaths, as between Him and them. In vain! The children in the wilderness were as bad as their fathers who died there. Only one thing stood between Israel and destruction: His own care for the name they profaned.
God gives His reason: what the watching nations would think. Israel was the one nation on earth that carried any witness to Him.
They again refused the statutes which commended themselves to their consciences. They profaned the sabbaths, the sign of the rest He wanted for them. Even before they reached the land, He had to threaten them with wrath again. Love and pity held that wrath back from a people who were to carry His name before the nations. For how could He destroy the only thing that remained as a witness at all?
The turn in the verse is sudden. God gives no reason found in the people; He falls back on something in Himself.
He spoke of judging them. But He retreated at once into Himself, saying, "I withdrew my hand, and worked for my name's sake." … And then He worked for His name's sake by bringing them to His holy mountain. When grace had triumphed where evil was, they would "know the Lord." It is grace reigning through righteousness, and mercy rejoicing against judgment, that gives the true knowledge of God — "They shall know the Lord."
In the very next verse God says He will scatter them among the nations. Mercy held back the sword. It did not cancel His righteous dealing with them.
In mercy He withdraws the hand He had lifted in judgment. He considers how their enemies would view the destruction of His people. But He is not only merciful; He is also righteous. Because of their rebellion He said, "I lifted up my hand to them also in the wilderness, that I would scatter them among the nations, and disperse them through the countries" (verse 23).
Writers draw a line from this phrase straight to the New Testament. There God forgives on the same basis.
In sovereign goodness He has blessed us. It was not because of anything in ourselves, or anything we have done. We were only sinners, cut off from God, and enemies by wicked works. We know that He has forgiven our sins, and as it is written in 1 John 2:12, it is "for His Name's sake."
The same basis also keeps a believer step by step afterwards:
And we have not only received the forgiveness of our sins in this way. Our feet are also kept in the same way as we pass through the wilderness. We read, for example, in Psalm 23: "He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake." That is, God has undertaken everything for us on the same ground on which He forgave our sins. The motive for all His acts of grace and love, for His unchanging attitude, for His watchful care and protection, is Christ, and not ourselves.
- Rebellion. God warned this generation not to follow their fathers. They did it anyway. Nothing in them explains why His hand stopped.
- Restraint. God withdrew the sword, not for anything in Israel, but because He "retreated into Himself" and worked for His own name's sake.
- Reason. His name rested on this people. Destroying them would have destroyed the only witness to Him among the nations.
- Righteousness. Mercy spared them, yet righteousness still scattered them. The same hand that dropped the sword swore to scatter them among the nations.
- Result. The same ground reaches us. God forgives our sins and keeps our feet "for His name's sake." The motive is Christ, not us.