And the people said unto me, Wilt thou not tell us what these things are to us, which thou doest?
Ezekiel buried his wife and shed no tear. The people watching asked him what it meant for them, and his answer named what God was about to take.
Public grief in Israel was loud and organised. A man who buried his wife in silence was doing something no one could ignore.
Loud mourning was the custom in such cases — they even hired mourners. Against that, this silent conduct calls for explanation.
God had used Ezekiel's actions this way before. The strangeness itself was meant to make people ask.
All this, of course, was not a vision but real. It was meant to raise questions in those who saw these puzzling actions and would ask what they meant.
Ezekiel's answer was not about his wife at all. It told the people what God Himself was about to do to them.
The prophet's fresh act is explained. God would teach the people about a trouble like no other. It would leave no room for tears or ordinary mourning. The destruction now beginning was so sweeping that nothing would remain for them but wasting away in their sins and groaning to one another. The Lord Himself was profaning the sanctuary by judgment, as they had profaned it by their sins. What a picture of despair, when sorrow lies too deep for tears, and an overwhelming sense of guilt forces people to give up hope!
God did not forbid Ezekiel to grieve. He forbade him to show it. What was coming on Jerusalem would silence mourning altogether.
Jerusalem is gone in judgment — the city gone, and the sanctuary with it. The nation as a whole needed that sanctuary, for it was the only place where the blood of sacrifice could be offered to God. So the destruction of the sanctuary was the end of all relationship. What could remain between a holy God and a people for whose sins no atonement could be made? For the people, this disaster was so overwhelming that every other loss might well seem small. The voice of lamentation itself was hushed in this silence of despair… It is not that grief is forbidden, but the expression of it.
The people asked what the sign meant for them. Even the answer did not bring out its full meaning.
Yet, after all, they cannot feel these things as God accounts them. The disaster might overwhelm them, but they were to waste away in sins still unrepented of. This is why, it seems, the full meaning of what Ezekiel is called to do does not come out. The loss of their sons and daughters, hard as it is, cannot match the breaking of the marriage bond that Ezekiel suffers under. For that, we have to think of the sanctuary itself gone. The sanctuary was the pledge and seal of that bond. It spoke of the Lord's presence with them and gave the people access to Himself. When that bond breaks, that loss might well swallow up all the rest.
This sign was not the first. God had asked Ezekiel for costly, public obedience again and again.
God commanded this great prophet to do certain things in front of the people. They were living in deception after listening to the false prophets… he had to shave his head and beard (5:1); to carry a captive's baggage (12:3-7); when his wife died, he was not to mourn (24:15-20); and again he lost his speech (24:27). Chapter 24:24 is the key to all this.
Behind the sign stands a husband who loved his wife and felt her loss.
He had all the human sympathies and affections. The beautiful touch of tenderness that opens the account makes that clear. But he puts himself entirely under the will of the Lord, and sinks the interests of his own life in the work of his prophetic office.
- Question. Ezekiel's tearless silence broke every custom of public mourning. It was meant to make people ask what it meant for them.
- Answer. God was about to profane His own sanctuary and take their sons and daughters. The blow would leave no room for tears or ordinary mourning.
- Loss. The sanctuary gone meant the place of sacrifice gone. With it went the whole relationship between a holy God and a people whose sins no atonement could cover.
- Depth. Losing children was severe. The broken marriage bond points deeper still: to the bond with God that the sanctuary sealed.
- Sign. Ezekiel's whole life of strange obedience finds its key here. The man himself became the message, feeling the loss yet holding his sorrow under God's will.
And I said to them, The word of Jehovah came unto me, saying,
The people have watched Ezekiel bury his wife without a single tear, and they ask him what it means for them (v. 19). His reply gives them nothing of his own — a message came to him, and the rest of the chapter is that message.
Ezekiel's silence was not ordinary restraint. It clashed with the funeral customs of the day.
Compared with the loud mourning usual at such times, for which they even hired mourners, this behaviour calls for explanation. It is the mourning for their sons and daughters that is to stop, in view of a mourning that can find no adequate expression.
The answer he passes on is not his own reading of his wife's death.
Now the fresh act from God is explained. The people learn that God would teach them about a trouble with no parallel, one that would leave no room for tears or ordinary mourning. The LORD Himself was profaning the sanctuary by judgment, just as they had profaned it by their transgressions and abominations. The destruction was so sweeping that nothing remained for them but wasting away in their sins and groaning to one another. What a picture of despair, when the sorrow lies too deep for tears, and an overwhelming sense of guilt drives people to give up hope!
The message names the sanctuary — the temple — before it names their children. Commentators see the weight of the sign resting there.
The city is gone, and the sanctuary with it. The whole nation needed that sanctuary. It was the only place where anyone could offer the blood of sacrifice to God. So the destruction of the sanctuary was the end of all relationship. What could remain between a holy God and a people for whose sins no atonement could be made? This is the overwhelming disaster which, for the people, might well make every other loss seem small. Even the sound of mourning fell silent in this despair.
The sign is a wife's death, not a child's, and one writer explains what that stands for.
The loss of their sons and daughters, with all its severity, cannot answer to this breaking of a marriage tie under which Ezekiel suffers. For that, we have to think of the sanctuary itself gone. The sanctuary was the pledge and seal of that tie. It spoke of the Lord's presence with them, and gave the people access to Himself. The breaking of that tie might well swallow up every other loss.
The blow in this chapter lands on the prophet, not on his audience.
It is worth noticing that the stroke falls not on the people but on the prophet himself. Nor is it inflicted on him as a judgment. There is no divorce from God for him because of it. On the contrary, at this very moment he stands before the people fully as the representative of God Himself, speaking and acting in His name… This hints, plainly enough, that the prophet's sorrow is the sorrow of God Himself. The grief is on His side, not on man's. Yet it is a grief that can find no expression among a people as hardened as these. He who has inflicted the blow is the One who feels what He has inflicted.
Ezekiel could carry this word because he had handed his whole life over to it — even his deepest loss.
One very striking feature of Ezekiel's history stands out. He gave his whole life and feelings as a man over to the great prophetic work God called him to. He neither speaks nor acts like an ordinary man, but thinks and feels as a prophet. The death of his wife is a striking example of this.
One writer sets Ezekiel beside Aaron, Israel's first priest, who lost his sons and still showed no sign of grief.
Someone will say that all this was "a sign" to Israel. True. But it proves this: in prophetic testimony, as in priestly worship, we must rise above all the claims and influences of nature and of earth. Aaron's sons and Ezekiel's wife were cut down with a stroke, and yet neither the priest nor the prophet was to uncover his head or shed a tear.
- Question. The prophet's tearless funeral was nothing like the loud mourning of the day, so the people had to ask what it meant.
- Word. His answer opens with a report, not an opinion: a message came to him, and that message is the whole reply.
- Loss. The heaviest loss is the sanctuary — the one place of sacrifice — and its fall ended the relationship with God.
- Sorrow. The blow fell on the prophet, not the people, and one writer reads his silent grief as God's own grief over a broken tie.
- Cost. Ezekiel could carry such a word because he had given his whole life to his calling.
Say unto the house of Israel, Thus saith the Lord Jehovah Behold, I will profane my sanctuary, the pride of your strength, the desire of your eyes, and your soul's longing; and your sons and your daughters whom ye have left behind shall fall by the sword.
Ezekiel's wife has just died, and God has told him not to weep. When the exiles ask what this silence means, He answers by pointing to the temple in Jerusalem — their pride and their delight — and says that He Himself will profane it.
The shock of the verse is who does the profaning. The people had profaned the temple by their own sins; now God says He will profane it Himself.
God lets the people know that He would teach them about a trouble so great that it would leave no room for tears or ordinary mourning. The destruction begun was so sweeping — Jehovah Himself profaning the sanctuary by judgment, just as they had profaned it by their transgressions and abominations. Nothing would be left for them but wasting away in their sins and groaning to one another. What a picture of despair, when the sorrow lies too deep for tears, and an overwhelming sense of guilt forces people to give up hope!
The verse ends with sons and daughters falling by the sword, yet that is not the heaviest blow.
The city is gone, and the sanctuary with it — the sanctuary so necessary for the nation as a whole, where alone the blood of sacrifice could be offered to God. So the destruction of the sanctuary was the end of all relationship. What could remain between a holy God and a people whose sins could not be atoned for? For the people, this overwhelming disaster might well make every other loss seem small. The voice of lamentation itself was hushed in this silence of despair.
Ezekiel lost a wife; the nation would lose children. The two losses do not match.
Yet after all, it is not they who can feel these things as God accounts them. They might be overwhelmed by the disaster, but they were to waste away in sins still unrepented of. This, it seems, is why the full meaning of what Ezekiel is called to do does not come out. The loss of their sons and daughters, severe as it is, cannot match the breaking of a marriage bond which Ezekiel suffers. For that, we have to think of the sanctuary itself gone. It was the pledge and seal of the bond. It spoke of the Lord's presence with them and gave the people access to Himself.
Notice where the blow lands. God strikes the prophet, not the people — and a prophet stands in God's place before them.
Notice that the stroke falls not on the people but on the prophet himself... We have to take the prophet here as really representing the One he stands for. So it is plainly implied that the prophet's sorrow is the sorrow of God Himself. The affliction is on His side, not on man's. Yet it is an affliction that can find no expression among a people as hardened as these... He who has inflicted it is the One who feels what He has inflicted. It is the tearing apart of His own relationship with a people He had taken up to show His love to them.
There is a history behind this sentence. God had already worked to cleanse the city.
God pronounces definitive judgment against Jerusalem, who was not even ashamed of her sins... Jerusalem would be set as a cauldron on the fire, to melt and consume the whole. God had purged her, but she was not purged; and now He causes His fury to rest on her.
The danger was trusting the building instead of God. Israel had made the same mistake before, with the ark.
It is very sad when God's people put their trust in the symbols of God's presence rather than in God Himself... Here the people thought that because the ark was in the camp they were perfectly safe. Later they thought that because they had the temple in Jerusalem the enemy could not overthrow them. The prophet gave them the message of Jehovah: "Amend your ways and your deeds, and I will let you dwell in this place. Do not trust in these deceptive words: 'This is the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD'" (Jeremiah 7:3-4). The presence of the ark did not save Israel any more than the presence of the temple, and this because their ways did not please the God they claimed to serve.
- Bond — The sanctuary was the pledge and seal of the bond between God and His people. It was where His presence was, and where they had access to Him.
- Break — They defiled that bond by their own sins. God had worked to cleanse them, and they stayed unclean, so now He profanes the sanctuary Himself in judgment.
- Bereavement — Ezekiel's dead wife is the sign, but the stroke falls on the prophet, not the people. The sorrow he acts out is God's own.
- Beyond tears — The loss is too great for ordinary mourning. They can only waste away in sins they have not repented of.
- Beware — Loving the symbol is not trusting the One it points to; the ark did not save Israel, and neither did the temple.
And ye shall do as I have done ye shall not cover the beard, neither eat the bread of men;
The siege of Jerusalem began, and that same day the prophet's wife died — yet God forbade him to weep or keep any custom of mourning. When the exiles asked what this strange behaviour meant, God told them they would soon do the same: a whole nation with grief too deep for any funeral.
This verse sits inside God's answer to them, and the answer runs past the funeral to the temple.
God would teach them about their unmatched trouble. It would leave no room for tears or ordinary mourning. The destruction begun was so sweeping — the Lord Himself profaning the sanctuary in judgment, as they had by their sins and abominations — that nothing would remain for them but pining away in their iniquities and groaning to one another. What a picture of despair! The sorrow lies too deep for tears, and an overwhelming sense of guilt forces men to abandon hope.
Look at what God's orders cover: the turban stays on, the sandals stay on, the lip stays uncovered, the bread neighbours bring to a grieving family goes untouched. Every one of them is a public act.
God does not forbid the grief, but the showing of it. In this expressionless grief he is to be a sign to the people: "Sigh in silence. Make no mourning for the dead. Bind your turban on your head, and put your sandals on your feet. Do not cover your lips, and do not eat the bread of men."
The exiles would lose the sons and daughters they left behind in the city. Ezekiel's own loss was of another kind — a marriage ended.
Their sons and daughters were a severe loss. Even so, it cannot match the breaking of the marriage tie that Ezekiel suffers under. For that, we have to think of the sanctuary itself gone. The sanctuary was the pledge and seal of the tie. It spoke of the Lord's presence with them and gave the people access to Himself. Once that tie was broken, it might well swallow up all others.
Ask who is struck in this sign.
Notice that the stroke falls not on the people, but on the prophet himself. As far as he is concerned, it is not inflicted as a judgment... The prophet's sorrow is plainly the sorrow of God Himself. The affliction is on His part, not on man's side. Yet it is an affliction that can find no expression among a people as stubborn as these. It is their sin that has brought their disaster. It is their sin that they still pine away in. They feel certain effects of it, no doubt, but not the iniquity itself. He who has inflicted it is the One who feels what He has inflicted.
Read that way, the prophet's dry eyes are no proof that God had stopped loving.
He has broken off His own relationship with a people He had taken up to show them His love and to bring them near to Himself. He has been compelled to give them up. The tie is broken. We are not speaking of purposes still to be fulfilled at the end, but of present relationship, and that has ended for the nation as such. Nothing can divorce His heart from the objects of His love. He may have to act in a way that looks like the opposite. Even then, faith can see through the disguise and know that the love is unchanged all the way through.
The silence laid on Ezekiel had a time limit, tied to the fall of the city.
Under the figure of his wife's death, God tells him to hold back his heart before the judgment of the Lord. Once that judgment was done, the Lord would open the prophet's mouth. He would then speak His word openly to the remnant, so that they should know Him.
- Sign — Ezekiel's tearless loss was a message the exiles could watch. Soon they would do what he did, with no tears of their own.
- Silence — the ban fell on showing grief, not on grief itself. God withdrew the public customs and left the feeling.
- Sanctuary — the loss beneath the loss was the temple. It was the pledge of God's presence and access, and its fall broke the tie and swallowed up every lesser sorrow.
- Sorrow — the blow fell on the prophet, not on the guilty. His unspoken grief pictured God's own feeling about what He had to do.
- Speech — the silence ended when judgment had run its course. God opened the mouth that could not mourn, and spoke again to the remnant.
and your turbans shall be upon your heads, and your sandals upon your feet ye shall not mourn nor weep; but ye shall waste away in your iniquities and moan one toward another.
Ezekiel's wife has died, and God has forbidden him the ordinary signs of grief — and now God tells the exiles to do the same when Jerusalem falls. Verse 23 turns a private sorrow into a national one. Turbans stay on, shoes stay on, and no one weeps — there is only a wasting away under guilt and a groaning to one another.
The command not to mourn has a reason. Just before it, God announced what He would do to His sanctuary and to the sons and daughters the exiles had left behind.
God would teach them about their unmatched trouble, and it would leave no room for tears or ordinary mourning. So sweeping a destruction had begun that nothing would remain for them but pining away in their iniquities and groaning to one another. The Lord Himself was profaning the sanctuary by judgment, just as they had profaned it by their transgressions and abominations.
So what did God take from the prophet, and what did He leave him?
It is not that grief is forbidden, but the expression of it. In this grief that has no outward expression he is to be a sign to the people: "Sigh in silence, make no mourning for the dead, bind your turban on you, and put your sandals on your feet…"
Why drop the funeral customs at all? Because the coming loss is too big for them.
In such cases people normally wailed aloud, and they even hired mourners. So this conduct calls for explanation… The mourning for these sons and daughters is to cease, in view of the mourning that can have no adequate expression.
The phrase is not new. God had used it long before, in Leviticus 26:39, warning a disobedient people: "Those of you who are left shall rot away in your enemies' lands because of their iniquity." Ezekiel keeps reaching back to the wording of the first five books of the Bible:
The whole book of Ezekiel is soaked in the language of the Pentateuch… So the phrase "pine away in their iniquity" — Ezekiel 4:17, Ezekiel 24:23, Ezekiel 33:10 — occurs only here and in Leviticus 26:39.
The wasting is real, but it is not repentance:
It is their sin which has caused their calamity. It is their sin in which they still pine away — feeling, no doubt, certain effects of it, but not feeling the iniquity itself.
Commentators read this silence in more than one way. Kelly calls it "a picture of despair, when the sorrow lies too deep for tears." Others look past the people to God Himself.
Look at who takes the blow:
Notice that the stroke falls not on the people, but on the prophet himself… He stands before the people fully as the representative of God Himself, speaking and acting in His name… So it is plainly hinted that the prophet's sorrow is the sorrow of God Himself. The affliction is on His part, not on man's side.
The chapter does not stop at the ruin. A verse later God states the purpose of the whole sign:
"Thus shall Ezekiel be to you a sign; according to all that he has done you shall do. When this comes, then you will know that I am the Lord God"… "On that day your mouth will be opened… and you shall speak and be no longer mute. So you will be a sign to them, and they will know that I am the Lord."
One writer draws out what all this shows about God's own heart:
God will not let it all end in judgment only. If we have heart for it, He brings us to His side in this matter and shows us that His heart remains unchanged… Nothing can divorce His heart from those He loves. He may have to act in a way that seems to contradict this, yet faith can still see through the disguise and grasp the unchanging love running through it all.
- Cause — their own sin brought the ruin; the Lord Himself profaned the sanctuary in judgment, as they had profaned it by their sins.
- Sign — Ezekiel's tearless grief acted out the message; hired mourners could never match a loss this size, so the usual rites had to go.
- Silence — God never forbade grief, only its outward show; the sorrow had no adequate expression.
- Sin — to "pine away in your iniquities" is to feel the effects of sin without ever feeling the sin; the wasting is real, the repentance is not.
- Love — the sign ends in "you will know that I am the Lord," and nothing can divorce God's heart from those He loves.
Thus Ezekiel shall be unto you a sign; according to all that he hath done shall ye do when it cometh, then ye shall know that I [am] the Lord Jehovah.
Ezekiel's wife has died, and God has told him not to mourn. That silent grief is a rehearsal of what is coming on Jerusalem, and when it lands the people will know who has been speaking to them.
The sign lies in what Ezekiel withheld.
It is not that grief is forbidden, but the expression of it. He is to be in this expressionless grief a sign to the people.
The timing sharpened the message.
The day Nebuchadnezzar lays siege to Jerusalem, the prophet's wife dies. She was the one he loved most, yet Ezekiel was not to mourn. Through the figure of his wife's death, God tells him to hold back his heart before the judgment of Jehovah.
"According to all that he has done you shall do." Their turn was coming. The blow would be too heavy for the usual rituals of grief.
The people learn that God would teach them about a trouble like no other. It would leave no room for tears or ordinary mourning. The destruction begun was so sweeping that nothing would remain for them but pining away in their iniquities and groaning to one another. Jehovah Himself was profaning the sanctuary by judgment, as they had profaned it by their transgressions and abominations. What a picture of despair, when the sorrow lies too deep for tears, and an overwhelming sense of guilt makes men abandon hope!
There is more in the sign than a warning to the people.
Notice that the stroke falls not on the people, but on the prophet. And for him it is not a judgment... So the passage hints plainly enough that the prophet's sorrow is the sorrow of God Himself. The affliction is on His part, not on man's side. Yet it is an affliction which can find no expression among a people as stubborn as these are.
Read that way, the chapter does not close on bare judgment.
God will not let it all end in judgment only. If we have heart for it, He brings us to His side in this matter and shows us how unchanged His heart remains... Nothing can divorce His heart from those He loves. If He has to act in a way that looks like the opposite, faith can still see through the disguise and recognise the love that never changes.
The verse ends with knowing the Lord. That knowledge reaches Israel and the nations by different routes.
It will be through judgment that all the nations shall know that Jehovah is God... We may see the two means of making Jehovah known in the case of Israel (Ezek. 24:24-27; 28:26; 34:27; 36:11). In the other cases it is by judgment.
Israel gets something the other nations do not.
God carries these judgments out to make them all know Jehovah. In Israel's case there is something more: the understanding and the special verification of prophecy.
Ezekiel's silence would not last forever, but the wait was long.
The last act of the judgment now about to fall must wait for the message that announces its full completion. The siege lasted nearly a year and a half, and then came the message that the city had fallen. In that day, when at last all was over and no one could keep up a false hope any longer, God would open the prophet's mouth... not in judgment once more, but announcing blessing to come.
That silence had limits.
This silence does not mean he said nothing at all, for he prophesied what we read in chapters 25-32. He was to be silent about Israel.
What God asked of Ezekiel reaches beyond his own case.
Someone will say that all this was "a sign" to Israel. True; but it proves that in prophetic testimony, and in worship as a priest too, we must rise above all the claims and influences of nature and of earth.
- Stroke — the blow falls on the messenger first, not as a judgment on him; God puts it there for the people to read.
- Silence — grief is not forbidden, only its expression; the sermon is what Ezekiel does not do.
- Sign — the people must do as he has done: their loss will be too deep for tears, leaving only pining away in their iniquities.
- Sorrow — behind the sign stands God's own affliction at a broken tie, and a heart nothing can divorce from those He loves.
- Speech — when news of the fall arrives, the silence ends; the prophet speaks again, no longer in judgment but in blessing to come.
And thou, son of man, shall it not be in the day when I take from them their strength, the joy of their glory, the desire of their eyes, and that whereunto they lift up their soul, their sons and their daughters,
Ezekiel had just buried his wife without a tear, on God's orders, and the stunned exiles asked what it meant. The answer runs through these closing verses. A day is coming when God will take from His people the thing they leaned on, loved, and looked at. That thing is His own sanctuary.
The "stronghold" of verse 25 is not a wall or an army. It is the temple — the thing the verse calls the delight of their eyes. The shock of the message is who removes it. The people demanded to know what his strange conduct meant. Kelly gives the answer the prophet returned:
The new sign is explained, and the people are told that God would teach them about their unmatched trouble. It would leave no room for tears or ordinary mourning. The destruction now begun was so sweeping that nothing would remain for them but wasting away in their iniquities and groaning to one another. The Lord Himself was profaning the sanctuary by judgment, as they had profaned it by their sins. What a picture of despair! The sorrow lies too deep for tears, and an overwhelming sense of guilt forces people to abandon hope.
Sons and daughters fall in the same judgment, yet the verse puts the sanctuary first. One writer explains why the loss of a building outweighed the loss of children:
Jerusalem is gone in judgment. The city is gone, and the sanctuary with it. The whole nation needed that sanctuary, for it was the only place where the blood of sacrifice could be offered to God. So the destruction of the sanctuary was the end of all relationship. What could remain between a holy God and a people for whose sins no atonement could be made? For the people, this overwhelming disaster might well make every other one seem small.
The people had made the temple their security. One writer names the delusion behind it:
No mercy would turn aside His profaning of His sanctuary, which their sins had already profaned. The temple He would make like Shiloh, and the city a curse before all nations. It is an awful state of delusion when people presume on God's favour to His people, despite their indifference to His will and glory.
So why does mourning for those sons and daughters fall silent? Not because the loss is small:
In such cases people normally wailed loudly, and they even hired mourners. So this behaviour calls for explanation... It is the mourning for the sons and daughters that is to stop, in view of the mourning which can have no adequate expression.
Ezekiel's silent loss says something about God, not only about the prophet:
It is to be noted that the stroke falls not upon the people, but upon the prophet himself... So it is hinted plainly enough that the prophet's sorrow is the sorrow of God Himself. The affliction is on His part, not on man's side. Yet it is an affliction which can find no expression among a people as stubborn as these are... He who has inflicted it is the One who feels what He has inflicted. It is the tearing apart of His own relationship with a people whom He had taken up to show His love to them.
That same day changes something for the prophet too. His long silence had limits:
In chapter 24:27 Ezekiel was given this promise: when the one who escaped the fall of Jerusalem arrived, the prophet would no longer be silent. This silence does not mean that he never spoke at all, for he prophesied what is written in chapters 25–32. He was to be silent about Israel. The chapters in between, before the messenger came, concern other nations. And now that promised messenger arrived, and his mouth was opened again to prophesy about Israel.
- Taken — the "stronghold" is the sanctuary. God Himself removes it, profaning by judgment what the people had already profaned by sin.
- Trusted — they leaned on the building instead of God. They counted on His favour and ignored His will. That confidence is what collapses.
- Tearless — losing sons and daughters would normally bring loud mourning. Here the greater loss swallows it, leaving sorrow too deep for tears.
- Torn — the blow falls on the prophet, not the people. His silent sorrow pictures God's own, as He gives up the people He had drawn near to Himself.
- Told — the day of loss is also the day a survivor arrives and God opens the prophet's mouth. Judgment ends not in silence but in a fresh word to Israel.
that in that day he that escapeth shall come unto thee, to cause [thine] ears to hear [it]?
Ezekiel has been struck with a loss he is forbidden to mourn, and the exiles by the river Chebar want to know why. The answer points to one day still ahead. Jerusalem falls, a survivor brings word of it, and the prophet's long silence toward his own people ends.
The verse points to "that day." It is the day just described, when God takes from the people what they valued most. Here the prophet names what God is about to remove.
Say to the house of Israel: Thus says the Lord Jehovah, "Behold, I am profaning my sanctuary, the pride of your power, the desire of your eyes and the pity of your soul. And your sons and your daughters whom you have left behind shall fall by the sword." It is the mourning for these last that must stop, in view of a mourning that can find no full expression.
The temple was not one loss among many. It was the pledge that God was with them, and losing it swallowed up every other grief.
The loss of their sons and daughters, terrible as it is, does not match the breaking of the marriage tie that Ezekiel suffers. For that, we have to think of the sanctuary itself gone. It was the pledge and seal of that tie. It spoke of the Lord's presence with them, and it gave the people access to Himself. Once that tie was broken, the loss might well swallow up all others.
Later in the book, the record of this arrival carries an exact date. One commentator notes a puzzle: the messenger reaches Ezekiel long after the city fell.
In the twelfth year of our captivity, in the tenth month, on the fifth of the month, one who had escaped out of Jerusalem came to me and said, "The city is struck down." … The hand of the Lord had been upon me in the evening before he came, and He had opened my mouth before he came to me in the morning. My mouth was opened, and I was no longer silent. … It is strange to realize that the man who escaped from the city arrived more than sixteen months after the city was taken. … No doubt the report of the capture had long come before the refugee himself. … Now, with the living witness among them, they could at least doubt no more that the blow had fallen.
Ezekiel's silence had a meaning for the whole nation, and it had a limit.
He was not to go among the captives, and God made him silent. Yet this silence was not complete or constant. In the end it stopped altogether, after Jerusalem had fallen. The silence was a sign to the nation — the sign of God's displeasure and the coming judgment upon Jerusalem.
The limit was about subject matter, not about speaking at all.
This silence did not mean that he never spoke at all. During it he prophesied what we read in chapters 25-32. He was to be silent concerning Israel. The chapters in between, before the messenger came, concern other nations. Then the promised messenger arrived, and God opened his mouth again to prophesy about Israel.
after-note: sentences split, adverbs and passives removed
Both the prophet's loss and his silence were timed to the siege and fall of the city.
before-claim not in any quote; shorter lead-in
On the day Nebuchadnezzar lays siege to Jerusalem, the wife of the prophet dies. She was the dearest object of his affections, yet Ezekiel was not to mourn. Under the figure of his wife's death he is told to hold back his heart before the judgment of Jehovah. Once the judgment was carried out, the prophet's mouth would be opened, and the word of Jehovah would come openly to the remnant, so that they would know Jehovah.
The judgments in these chapters all end the same way — the nations learn who the Lord is. Israel receives something extra.
These judgments are carried out so that all of them will know Jehovah. In Israel's case there is more: they understand, and they see prophecy confirmed in a special way.
- Sign — Ezekiel's unmourned loss and his enforced silence were not private grief. Both were signs of God's displeasure and of the judgment coming on Jerusalem.
- Stroke — On "that day" God takes the sanctuary first, the pledge of His presence. Then their sons and daughters fall. The greater loss swallows up the smaller.
- Survivor — One escapee reaches the exiles with the news that the city is struck down. He arrives more than sixteen months after the city fell.
- Speech — The silence covered Israel only. During it Ezekiel prophesied about other nations. The messenger's arrival opened his mouth to his own people again.
- Sight — Judgment makes the nations know Jehovah. Israel receives more. They see prophecy confirmed before their eyes, so they understand what is happening.
In that day shall thy mouth be opened to him that is escaped, and thou shalt speak, and be no more dumb. So shalt thou be a sign unto them; and they shall know that I [am] Jehovah.
Ezekiel had been struck dumb toward his own people. Here God fixes the day his voice returns — the day a survivor arrives from the fallen city — and says what it is for: that they will know the LORD.
The prophet's silence had an end point, and God set it. He would stay silent toward Israel until God's sentence on Jerusalem fell.
Once judgment had been carried out, the prophet's mouth would open. The word of the LORD would then go openly to the remnant, so that they would know the LORD.
While any hope of escape survived, false confidence could feed on the prophet's words.
The prophetic message to the people closes here for a time. They must wait for the last act of the judgment now about to happen, until the message comes announcing that it is fully accomplished. The siege lasted for nearly a year and a half, and then came the news that the city was taken. On that day, when at last it was all over and no one could keep up a false hope any longer, the prophet's mouth would open. He would speak, and be dumb no longer.
A prophet who cannot speak is himself a message. God withdrew His words from Israel, and the silence announced what was coming.
This dumbness was not complete or constant. In the end it stopped altogether. That was after Jerusalem had fallen (33:21-22). The dumbness was a sign to the nation — the sign of God's displeasure and of the coming judgment on Jerusalem (24:27).
The silence had a subject. Ezekiel keeps speaking in the chapters that follow, but he addresses not one word of them to his own nation.
Clearly this dumbness does not mean he was silent all the time, never saying a word. He prophesied, after all, what is written in chapters 25-32. He was to be dumb about Israel. The chapters in between, before the messenger came, are about other nations. Then the promised messenger arrived, and his mouth opened again to prophesy about Israel.
The verse does not say Ezekiel would give signs; it says he is one. The sign had already begun with a personal loss.
On the day that Nebuchadnezzar lays siege to Jerusalem, the prophet's wife dies. Although she was the dearest object of his affections, Ezekiel was not to mourn. Under the figure of his wife's death, he is told to hold back his heart before the judgment of the LORD.
What he suffered stood in for God Himself.
Here, as elsewhere, Ezekiel stands as the representative of God to the people, as the prophet in fact always was. It should be noticed that the blow falls not on the people but on the prophet himself... So it is quietly made clear that the prophet's sorrow is the sorrow of God Himself. The affliction is on His side, not on man's. Yet it is an affliction that can find no outlet among a people as stubborn as these.
Commentators differ on the tone of his first words after the silence broke. One reads the reopening as the turn toward grace:
So the prophet's mouth is reopened, because there is grace to be announced. Still, God first affirms that His righteous ways have not changed. That is the fitting introduction to the grace. The fall of the city shows the people now fully under judgment. Their false confidences are exposed.
Another points to the warning he in fact gave — to people whose talk of faith did not match their hearts:
The news of Jerusalem's fall took a long time to reach the prophet. Then he opened his mouth, so long closed, and gave a solemn warning of further judgment. He warned them all the more because they pretended to speak the language of faith while their heart was far from the Lord.
The verse ends with the reason behind it all. The same aim runs through this whole series of judgments, and Israel receives something more.
God carries out these prophecies to make them all know the LORD. Only in Israel's case there is something more: the understanding and the special verification of prophecy.
- Silence. God's word withheld from Israel was itself a message — the sign of His displeasure and of judgment on the way.
- Stroke. The blow fell first on the prophet, not the people; his unexpressed grief pictured a sorrow that was God's own.
- Sign. Ezekiel was not just a speaker of signs but a sign himself, standing before Israel in God's place.
- Speech. His mouth stayed shut until every false hope died. Only when the survivor came did God open it — as warning first, or as grace? Commentators differ.
- Knowing. Every step aimed at one end: that they would know the LORD. Israel alone would also see prophecy proved true in the ruins.