Thus saith the Lord Jehovah The gate of the inner court that looketh toward the east shall be shut the six working-days; but on the sabbath-day it shall be opened, and on the day of the new moon it shall be opened.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And the prince shall enter by the way of the porch of [that] gate from without, and shall stand by the post of the gate, and the priests shall offer his burnt-offering and his peace-offerings, and he shall worship at the threshold of the gate, and shall go forth but the gate shall not be shut until the evening.
Ezekiel's closing chapters describe a temple still to come, with sacrifices, feasts, and a ruler called "the prince." This verse marks how far that ruler may come when the gate stands open. He reaches the threshold and stops there. Who is he, and why does even the highest man in the nation stop at the door?
The gate is not opened at random. Two set days in Israel's calendar mark it, and one writer reads them as pictures of the coming age of rest:
Another feature marks the worship of this millennial day. It singles out the two feasts which are types of that period — the Sabbath and the new moon, rest and re-establishment, Israel appearing afresh in the world. The inner gate on the east side was open on that day. The Prince worshipped at the very threshold of the gate, and the people before the gate (Ezek. 46). On the other days it was shut. They stood before Jehovah like this, aware of the rest God had given to Israel, and of His grace in showing His people again in the light.
Readers often assume this figure is Christ. The surrounding chapters rule that out:
The entrance of Jehovah, the God of Israel, was enough to close it for all but His representative. But He will have a representative on earth — the prince — and the prince shall sit "to eat bread before Jehovah." ... Indeed he is not a priest but the prince, the earthly chief of Israel. ... He is certainly not the Messiah. He is sharply marked off from a priest, yet he still needs to offer a sin-offering, and he may have sons. Doubtless he is a future prince of the house of David.
The verse gives him a spot no one else has, yet keeps him short of the priests' ground:
It seems clear that he holds a representative position. But it is not the position of the high priest, whom Ezekiel never mentions. Nor is it the position of the king as Israel knew it before. He is not given the privileges or the power of either. He seems to occupy a middle place between the people and the priesthood. ... He is not among the priests, and he is not allowed to enter the inner court. Yet he draws nearer than the people themselves. He may worship in the inner east gate, which opens on the inner court, while the people worship in the outer court, gathered at the door of this gate (Ezek. 46:2). But he must supply the offerings for the feasts, new moons and sabbaths, so the priesthood looks to him for what the national worship needs (Ezek. 45:13-22).
The offerings are his, but the priests are the ones who present them:
The prince is said to prepare his burnt offerings, but Ezekiel 46:2 tells us that the priests actually prepare them for him. He worships at the threshold of the gate.
The stop at the doorpost tells us the character of that whole age:
It was right for prince and people to worship before Jehovah like this, with this distinction between them. But even the prince does not go inside; he stands by the post of the gate, he worships at the threshold. There is no drawing near as we now do in the Holy Spirit through the torn veil. It is a people blessed on earth, not in the heavenly places.
One writer states the contrast plainly: "it still remains true that neither the people nor the Prince entered within. Those who are the most blessed on the earth in that day of blessing will never have that access into God's presence. We have it, by the Spirit, through the veil" (J. N. Darby).
Elsewhere this man has a gate to himself. On the feast days he goes in with everyone else:
Ezekiel 44:3 gives him the right to enter and to leave by the gate of the sanctuary, and to sit there "to eat bread before Jehovah." No one else uses this gate but himself. He is the prince of the house of David. But on the feast days he goes in for worship with the people so that he should not exalt himself too much. ... So he takes his place with the people of Israel in paying homage to Jehovah.
- Open gate. The inner east gate opens on Sabbath and new moon — rest come, Israel shining again. Worship happens at that gate, not beyond it.
- A prince, not the Prince. He offers a sin-offering and may have sons, so he is not the Messiah but an earthly ruler of David's line.
- Near, not nearest. He stands closer than the crowd, but still outside the inner court. His place is between the people and the priests, and the priests prepare his offerings for him.
- Threshold. Even the highest man in the nation worships at the doorpost. It is blessing on earth, without entry inside.
- Our contrast. What he never gets, believers now have: access into God's presence through the torn veil by the Spirit.
And the people of the land shall worship at the door of this gate before Jehovah on the sabbaths and on the new moons.
In Ezekiel's vision of a future temple, the inner east gate stays shut all week and opens on two days only. Why those two days, and why do the people of the land worship at its doorway instead of going inside?
Commentators read this chapter as worship still ahead, not worship in the prophet's own day. One writer names who takes part, and when:
We now have further details about the public worship of the coming day of glory in the sanctuary. It affects the prince, the people, and the priests. The sabbaths and the new moons stand out most.
These two days carry meaning beyond the calendar. One writer explains why each one matters in that age:
The reason these two occasions now hold such a marked place is clear. Those who are God's are no longer entering into rest; they have gone in. The day has come. Sabbath-keeping no longer remains for the people of God. Glory dwells in the land. Israel are gathered there out of the lands, from east and west, from north and south... So the sabbath is now made much of. But so is the new moon. Israel had long waned and disappeared. Now she renews her light, never again to withdraw. The new moon fittingly marks Israel restored, now and for evermore.
So this worship rests on what God has already given:
They stood in this way before Jehovah. They knew the rest which God had given to Israel, and His grace in showing His people in the light again.
The place of worship matters as much as the timing. One writer notes how far each worshipper may go, and what the open gate faces:
Now come the rules for the weekly and monthly feasts — sabbaths and new moons. With them a distinctive feature appears in the east inner gate. It stays closed for the six working days, but opens on the sabbath and on the day of the new moon. At this open gate the Prince and people worship. Only the Prince may enter its porch. He stands there to worship during the offering of his sacrifices. This brings these acts of worship into line with the great altar and the entrance of the House, right before the indwelling glory.
This verse puts the people at the same gate on the same days as the prince in verse 2. The distinction between them remains, but neither goes inside:
It was fitting for prince and people to worship before Jehovah in this way, with this distinction between them. But even the prince does not go inside; he stands by the post of the gate, he worships at the threshold.
One writer contrasts the prince's own privilege with what he does on the feast days:
The prince has the right of entering and leaving by the gate of the sanctuary, and of sitting there to eat bread before Jehovah. No one else uses this gate but himself, for he is the prince of the house of David. But on the feast days he goes in for worship with the people, so that he should not exalt himself too much... So he takes his place with the people of Israel in giving honour to Jehovah.
The words "at the entrance of that gate" mark the limit of that worship. The blessing is real, but it stops at a doorway:
There is no drawing near as we now do in the Holy Spirit through the rent veil. It is a people blessed on earth, not in the heavenly places.
Another writer asks which figure in the scene matches the believer today:
In the millennium the people will not have access in the same sense: the true figure for the Christian attitude is that of the priest, not that of the people.
- Rest first. The sabbath here does not reach toward rest. The rest has come. The day is here, and glory dwells in the land.
- Light restored. The new moon marks a nation that had waned and vanished now shining again, never to withdraw.
- Gate opened. The east inner gate stays shut six working days and opens on these two. That opening lines the worshipper up with the altar and the house of the glory.
- Prince lowered. The one man with his own gate worships at the same threshold as the crowd, so he does not exalt himself.
- Threshold reached. Prince and people alike stop at the door. They are blessed on earth. Yet they do not enter God's presence as the believer does now through the rent veil.
And the burnt-offering that the prince shall present unto Jehovah on the sabbath-day shall be six lambs without blemish, and a ram without blemish.
Ezekiel 46 sets out worship for a restored Israel in a coming day, and verse 4 fixes the prince's Sabbath offering. Two questions press at once: who is this prince, and why do animals still die after the cross?
The chapter singles out two days for worship: the Sabbath and the new moon. One writer explains why the Sabbath weighs so much now; he calls God Jehovah, the name printed above as the LORD.
It is clear why these two occasions now have such a marked place. Those who are of God are no longer entering into rest; they have gone in. The day is come. A Sabbath rest no longer remains ahead for the people of God. Glory dwells in the land, and Israel is gathered there out of the lands — from the east and the west, from the north and the south. They had wandered in the wilderness in a solitary way; they found no city to dwell in. This is all past — past for ever.
The verse calls the offerer the prince. One writer works out who he is, and who he is not.
Jehovah will have a representative upon earth — the prince — and the prince is to sit "to eat bread before Jehovah." He is to have the honour of entering in and going out by the way of the porch of that gate. No high priest ever claimed this. Indeed it is not a priest but the prince, the earthly chief of Israel. He is certainly not the Messiah. Although he is clearly marked off from a priest, he still needs to offer a sin offering, and he may have sons. Doubtless it is a future prince of the house of David.
The verse twice insists on animals without blemish. One writer shows whom such an animal pictures.
In the burnt offering we have the Lord Jesus Christ, in all His fullness and perfections. He offers Himself without spot to God, and He is also accepted before God for us. In this He was found to be "a male without blemish." It was so true of Him that the One in whose sight the very heavens are not clean could say, "with whom I am well pleased," and again, "my chosen, in whom my soul delights."
The size of the offering carries meaning of its own.
This new order of sacrifices gives greater prominence to the sabbath. The greatly increased offering in every case may point to the greater fruitfulness and prosperity of those Millennial days. The stress on the sabbath suggests that what the sabbath means for the earth and creation is then blessedly realised in the righteousness, peace, rest and abundant blessing of the kingdom. The enlarged offerings picture Christ's Person in its human perfection. They may well speak of a fuller appreciation of Him in that day, when He will no longer be One who has no beauty that we should desire Him. The offerings are increased threefold, for redemption brings the full realisation of the victory of good over evil in the sabbath-keeping of that coming day.
Many readers stumble at animal sacrifice returning after the cross. One writer meets the difficulty head on.
Some have found a difficulty in the restoring of sacrifices. The difficulty vanishes once you remember that these sacrifices belong to an earthly people and an earthly temple, and that they will be commemorative in character. Under the old order they had no power at all apart from their reference to Christ, for it was not possible that the blood of bulls and goats should take away sins (Heb. 10:4). In the millennium they will look back to that one sacrifice for sin offered on the cross, as those under the law of Moses foreshadowed it.
The prince has a place in this worship that no one else has. Even so, he goes only so far.
It was fitting that prince and people should worship before Jehovah, and with this distinction between them. But even the prince does not go within; he stands by the post of the gate, he worships at the threshold. There is no drawing near as we now do in the Holy Spirit through the torn curtain. It is a people blessed on earth, not in the heavenly places.
- Rest reached. Israel keeps this Sabbath inside the rest, not waiting for it. The glory dwells in the land.
- Prince, not Messiah. The offerer is a coming descendant of David, Jehovah's representative on earth. He needs a sin offering himself, so he cannot be the Messiah.
- Unblemished. Six lambs and a ram must be flawless. The burnt offering pictures Christ, who offered Himself without spot to God and is accepted for us.
- Enlarged. The offering is increased threefold. That points to the fruitfulness of that day, and to a deeper appreciation of Christ than the world once gave Him.
- Backward-looking. These offerings add nothing to the cross. They remember it, as the older ones pointed forward to it. And the worship stays at the threshold, on earth — not the nearness believers know now.
And the oblation shall be an ephah for a ram, and the oblation for the lambs as he shall be able to give; and oil, a hin for an ephah.
Ezekiel's vision of a future temple sets exact measures for the Sabbath offerings. Why are sacrifices back after the cross, and why does God fix one amount but leave another open?
Ezekiel's closing chapters describe a temple and its services still to come. Readers find that hard to square with the cross. Commentators answer by asking who these offerings are for, and which way they look.
The temple and its services will return in surpassing splendour. Some have felt a difficulty about restoring sacrifices. The difficulty disappears when we remember that these sacrifices belong to an earthly people and an earthly temple. They will be memorials. Under the old order they had no power at all apart from their reference to Christ. The blood of bulls and goats could never take away sins. In the millennium they will look back to the one sacrifice for sin offered on the cross, just as the sacrifices under Moses pointed forward to it.
The ephah here measures flour, not blood. This grain offering, which commentators call the meal offering, is flour mixed with oil. They find a distinct picture in each ingredient.
The meal offering is a picture of Christ in His perfect humanity and His holy, devoted character. It was not for atonement, just as the holy humanity of Christ and the devotedness of His life could not atone for sins. The fine flour is sifted and pure, and it comes from the grain of wheat. It makes a fitting and beautiful picture of His perfect humanity. The oil, so prominent in this offering, is a picture of the Holy Spirit.
The amounts here run well above the old requirements. Commentators see meaning in the increase itself.
This new order of sacrifices gives greater prominence to the sabbath. The greatly increased offering in every case may point to the increased fruitfulness and prosperity of those millennial days... The enlarged offerings answer to the meal offerings of old and picture Christ's Person in its human perfection. They may well speak of the heightened appreciation of Him in that day, when men will no longer look at Him and see no beauty to desire Him... The larger proportion of the oil shows the greater fulness of the Spirit, and so a fuller grasp of Christ.
With the ram the amount is fixed; with the lambs it is not. The same freedom appears in the law of Moses, where some offerings had no fixed amount.
All the earlier offerings in Leviticus 1–3 — the burnt offering, the grain offering and the peace offering — were left to the heart of the giver. Each was open, with the fullest allowance for what a person could afford. God would make no burden of what should be a joy. Here the heart gave to Him something it might have prized for itself, and the gift showed at least how much it valued the Lord.
But freedom over the amount is not permission to bring less than you can. God measures the gift against the giver.
We must take care to bring to God at least what each of us is able to give. God does not expect a young believer to value Christ as a mature Christian does. But He would not accept a turtledove from someone who could afford much more... However small our appreciation of the Lord Jesus may be, God knows our hearts, and He alone knows the full value of His Person and work.
One ratio never changes. However much flour you bring, the oil rises with it. Commentators tie that fixed proportion to growth in the knowledge of Christ.
Can we know the work done for us better without also growing in the knowledge of Him who did the work? And with the knowledge of Him, if it is real, grows that joy in Him which the drink offering pictures. It is a joy shown not in words or feelings only, but in spending and being spent for Him. The measure of the oil for the meal offering is the measure of the wine for the drink offering. The measure of the Spirit in our grasp of Christ is the measure of our joy and devotedness.
- Measure looking back. The sacrifices of this future temple belong to an earthly people. They are memorials, looking back to the one sacrifice on the cross.
- Measure of Christ. The ephah is flour and oil — a picture of His perfect humanity and of the Spirit, not an offering for atonement.
- Measure enlarged. The amounts are greatly increased, pointing to how much more He will be appreciated in that day.
- Measure left free. With the lambs the amount is the giver's own. God makes no burden of what should be a joy.
- Measure of the Spirit. The hin to an ephah never changes. More of the Spirit means a fuller grasp of Christ, and with it more joy and devotedness.
And on the day of the new moon, a young bullock without blemish, and six lambs, and a ram they shall be without blemish.
Ezekiel's closing vision describes worship in a restored temple, with a set offering for each new moon. Two questions press on a reader: why animal sacrifices at all after the cross, and why the new moon gets a day of its own.
Two days stand out in this chapter: the sabbath and the new moon. One commentator reads the new moon as a picture of the nation's own history:
The sabbath naturally gets much attention now. But so does the new moon. Israel, who had long waned and disappeared, now renews her light, never to withdraw herself again. So the new moon rightly marks Israel restored, now and forever.
Another writer draws a lesson from the same figure:
The monthly return of the moon speaks of constant renewal under the good hand of God. It speaks too of the creature, weak and nothing in itself, always dependent on the sufficiency and ministry of the Creator. The creature is like the moon: in itself nothing, and getting all its light from the great source of light and power, the sun.
This is a burnt offering, and "without blemish" belongs to its nature. The animal had to pass inspection before it went on the fire:
The offering is skinned and strictly inspected. Then the fire brings out for God nothing but sweet savour. It is what Christ is, as no other offering — certainly not the sin-offering — develops it. And so day and night that sweet savour goes up to God.
One writer finds a distinct meaning in each animal:
All of them picture Christ, so they had to be inspected carefully to see that they had no blemish. The young bulls speak of the strength of the offering of Christ. The ram speaks of His devotion to God. The lambs picture His lowly obedience in submission to the will of His Father.
If Christ has already died for sin, why should sacrifices return at all? One writer answers by pointing to the direction these offerings face:
Some have felt a difficulty about the return of sacrifices. The difficulty vanishes when we remember that these sacrifices belong to an earthly people and an earthly temple, and that they will be commemorative… In the millennium they will look back to that one sacrifice for sin offered on the cross, as those under the system given through Moses foreshadowed it.
Another writer answers from the plain wording of the vision:
Some find it hard to see how animal sacrifices could return after the church has been caught up to heaven. They imagine that the sacrifice of the Lord Jesus on the cross abolished the Jewish ritual once and for all. But the ritual given through Moses is never said to be abolished… Ezekiel 40–46 states the return of sacrifices so plainly that the matter is settled at once for the soul that bows to the Word.
The one who brings this offering is "the prince." Is he the Messiah? One commentator says the details rule that out:
He is certainly not the Messiah. Though he is clearly distinct from a priest, he needs to offer a sin-offering, and he may have sons. No doubt he is a future prince of the house of David.
One writer describes the worshippers these offerings belong to, and how close they come:
In the future there will be a godly remnant of Israel on earth. They will be under law, though the law will be written in their hearts. They will worship by sacrifice, but will never get into the immediate presence of God in the sanctuary.
- Renewal — The new moon is light returning after it faded. Commentators read it as Israel restored, shining again and never waning.
- Dependence — The moon has no light of its own. Month after month it borrows everything from the sun, as the creature depends on the Creator.
- Offering — The bull, ram and lambs must be flawless, because each pictures Christ: His strength, His devotion, His lowly obedience. The whole offering goes up to God.
- Memory — These future sacrifices look back to the cross, as the older ones pointed forward to it. Commentators call them commemorative.
- Distance — The prince who brings them comes from the house of David, not the Messiah. The people who worship this way never enter the immediate presence of God.
And he shall offer an oblation, an ephah for the bullock, and an ephah for the ram, and for the lambs according to what his hand may attain unto; and oil, a hin for an ephah.
These rules belong to a vision of a future temple, where a figure called "the prince" supplies the offerings for Israel's worship. On the new moon he brings a bull, a ram and six lambs, and this verse sets how much grain offering and oil go with them.
Many readers stumble at the sight of animal sacrifices restored after the cross. One writer answers by asking who these offerings are for, and which way they point. He places them in the millennium, a coming age of blessing on earth.
Some have felt a difficulty about sacrifices being restored. But these sacrifices will belong to an earthly people and an earthly temple, and they will be commemorative in character. Remember that, and the difficulty vanishes. Under the old order they had no power at all apart from their reference to Christ, for it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins (Hebrews 10:4). In the millennium they will look back to the one sacrifice for sin offered on the cross. Those under the law of Moses foreshadowed that same sacrifice.
The verse says the prince "shall provide" the grain offering. A commentator shows how far that duty reaches.
The Prince has a unique and highly favoured position. The people give their offerings to him, and he administers them in providing for the ritual of sacrifice. It does not appear that the people bring sacrifices themselves. It is the Prince who gives all for the prescribed ritual, including the daily burnt offering (Ezekiel 45:17)… So he fills a representative position on behalf of the people in these specific offerings. The people still have their part in all of them, since they first present their offerings to the Prince (Ezekiel 45:13-17), and join in worship when he offers.
The sabbath and the new moon are the two days marked out in this chapter. William Kelly explains why.
Those who are God's are no longer entering into rest; they have gone in. The day has come. Sabbath-keeping no longer remains for the people of God. Glory dwells in the land. Israel are gathered there out of the lands — from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south. They had wandered in the wilderness in a lonely way; they found no city to live in. This is all past — past for ever… So the sabbath now naturally has a large place. But so does the new moon. Israel had long waned and disappeared. Now she renews her light, never to withdraw again. So the new moon fittingly marks Israel restored, now and for ever.
These amounts are far larger than the ones Israel knew before. One writer reads meaning in the size itself.
The greatly increased grain offering in every case may signify the increased fruitfulness and prosperity of those millennial days… The enlarged offerings answer to the meal offerings of old, and they picture Christ's Person in its human perfection. So they may well speak of a greater appreciation of Him in that day, when He will no longer be One having no beauty that He should be desired… The larger proportion of the oil points to the greater fulness of the Spirit, and so of understanding.
The verse leaves one amount open. The bull and the ram each get a fixed ephah, but the lambs get as much as the offerer is able to bring.
New Moon: One bullock, one ram, six lambs, with an oblation of an ephah for a bullock, and for the ram, and for the lambs according to the Prince's generosity: and oil, a hin for an ephah.
Another writer traces the same principle through the graded sacrifices of the law, and applies it to worship now.
The offerer's wealth determined what grade he could bring. Each grade was equally acceptable to God. Yet what he could bring to the door of the tabernacle came out of his own diligence in private in gaining wealth. For the Christian worshipper the question is not earthly wealth. It is the wealth in spiritual things gained by diligence in secret… Growth in grace and in the knowledge of Him enriches our capacity for bringing to God whatever delights Him.
For all his privilege, the prince does not go inside. Kelly contrasts that with the access believers have now.
It was fitting that prince and people should worship before Jehovah like this, and with this distinction between them. But even the prince does not go within; he stands by the post of the gate, he worships at the threshold of the gate. There is no drawing near as we now do in the Holy Spirit through the torn veil. It is a people blessed on earth, not in the heavenly places.
- Memorial — the sacrifices in this temple do not take away sin. They look back to the cross, as the old ones looked forward to it.
- Provider — the people hand their gifts to the prince. He supplies every offering and stands for them, and they worship while he offers.
- Renewal — the new moon takes a fresh place, because the nation that waned like the moon now renews its light for good.
- Abundance — the larger grain offering and the full measure of oil speak of a richer day: more fruitfulness, more appreciation of Christ, more of the Spirit.
- Ability — one amount stays open, "as he is able." What the worshipper has gained sets the measure, not a fixed rule. And he still worships at the threshold, not inside.
And when the prince cometh in, he shall come in by the way of the porch of the gate, and he shall go out by the way thereof.
Ezekiel's closing vision (chapters 40–48) describes a future temple, with its priests, feasts and offerings. Verse 8 gives one rule for one man — the prince — and that small rule carries a great deal of meaning.
The east gate stayed shut because of who had passed through it. One writer traces the prince's unusual privilege back to that event:
At first the prophet saw the gate open, but now he sees it shut. By His own sovereign right the LORD, the God of Israel, had entered the sanctuary to dwell there. "And the glory of the LORD filled the temple of the LORD." By the LORD's command the gate was to be shut, and no one was to enter by it except the prince, who was to sit in it to eat bread before the LORD.
Some translations call this vestibule the porch, as the quotations here do. Verse 8 gives the prince something and withholds something in the same breath:
He is privileged, as no other person, to occupy the porch of the east gate, sitting there to eat bread before the LORD. But he does not pass through the gate, he enters by the porch and goes out by the same way. So the special holiness of this gate would be pressed home on everyone, and above all on the Prince himself, reminding him of his lower place. The shut gate, and the limited privilege given to this man who appears to be the highest civil ruler in the nation, teach everyone the supreme place of the LORD. We may notice that the porch is at the west end of the gate building, facing the altar and the House.
This prince is an earthly figure, and the gate rule shows what stands above him:
There is mention of the Prince, and we do not doubt that he will be of the lineage of David. There will be an earthly representative, but there is something greater than that, for the glory of the Lord will fill the Temple. The Prince comes in to sit at the East Gate, but he is not allowed to go through it. Only One will ever go through that gate — the LORD Himself. Those doors open only to let in the Lord of Hosts.
Because of that honour, readers often ask whether the prince is the Messiah. The details of these chapters rule it out:
He is to have the honour of entering in and going out by the way of the porch of that gate. No high priest ever claimed this. Indeed it is not a priest but the prince, the earthly chief of Israel. It is enough to say that he is clearly not the Messiah. He is plainly marked off from a priest, yet he still needs to offer a sin offering, and he may have sons. Doubtless it is a future prince of the house of David.
The honour at that porch is not just personal:
Still, the Prince is allowed to share a sacrificial meal in the porch of this gate. That points to a link between the saved nation and the glory of God, which has made this gate holy in a special way. In his place he is surely the representative of the nation. His communion is with God, whose glory entered by that gate and now dwells in His House among them. In him, the nation's communion is seen too.
Verse 8 has him coming alone. The verses after it place him among the people, and the arrangement protects them as much as it honours him:
The Prince entered by the outer door on the side of the east, and he went out by the same door. In the solemn feasts, the people went in by the north gate and came out by the south gate, and the Prince in their midst. When he went in alone, as a voluntary worshipper, he entered and retired again by the eastern gate. These rules gave remarkable honour to the Prince, tied to the glory of God, who gave him his place among the people. They just as surely secured what follows in verses 16-18: kind, brotherly relations between him and the people of God. They took away every chance of oppression.
Even at his closest, the prince stops short of the inside:
Still, it remains true that neither the people nor the Prince went inside. In that day of blessing, the most blessed people on earth will never have the access into God's presence that we have, by the Spirit, through the veil.
- Gate — the east gate stays shut because the glory of the Lord came in by it.
- Grant — the prince alone may use its porch and eat bread there, a privilege no high priest ever claimed.
- Guard — he enters and leaves the same way, and never passes through. That marks his lower place.
- Given for others — he holds a representative place, so the nation's communion with God is seen in his.
- Gap — for all that honour, neither prince nor people go inside. Believers now have access by the Spirit, through the veil.
And when the people of the land come in before Jehovah in the set feasts, he that cometh in by the way of the north gate to worship shall go out by the way of the south gate; and he that cometh in by the way of the south gate shall go out by the way of the north gate he shall not return by the way of the gate by which he came in, but shall go out straight before him.
The chapter lays out the rules for worship at God's house in a future day — who may enter, when, and by which door. Verse 9 sets the traffic pattern for the feast crowds: in one gate, out the opposite one, never back the way you came.
The rules in this chapter were not for Ezekiel's own day. They look ahead to a time still to come.
We now have further details about the public worship of the millennial day in the sanctuary. This affects the prince, the people, and the priests, with special prominence given to the sabbaths and the new moons.
Why should it matter which door a worshipper leaves by?
The people are to enter by one gate and leave by the opposite one. Only two gates are available for them, the north and the south, because the outer east gate stayed shut. This rule of the sanctuary is, in effect, "all things should be done decently and in order" (1 Cor. 14:40).
The north gate is not a random door. Earlier in Ezekiel's vision the prophet himself was brought in through it.
The prophet is now brought before the House by way of the north gate. This was the gate of sacrifice, as we have seen. Is this not significant? For only by the way of sacrifice can we be brought before the glory of God. He sees the glory filling the House, and bows low in worship.
The south carries its own lesson, drawn from where that road leads.
The south gives us another lesson. To go south is to go toward Egypt — the land of the serpent, with its lure for the flesh and its slavery too. Yet along with this there may be a measure of ease and pleasure that gratifies the natural man… Relaxing influences are found in the south. They may be pleasant for a season, but there we also feel the burning heat that dries up the earth and destroys fruitfulness. "How many have found the hot breath of worldly prosperity the destruction of spiritual fruit."
The same writer sees both directions pictured in the layout of the tabernacle, Israel's earlier tent of worship.
In the tabernacle it is telling that the table of the showbread stood on the north side, because the truth of communion is what we need and get there. There we also learn how sacrifice removes judgment forever, so that our darkness is turned to light. But the lampstand stood on the south side, opposite the table, because as we walk in the light of the Spirit we do not fulfil the lusts of the flesh — the south does not attract. Instead we bear the fruit of the Spirit… We need to pass through both the north and the south gates, because in that way the altar and the House come into view and their lessons are pressed on us.
For all this coming and going, the crowds stay outside. The commentators note that even the ruler stops at the threshold.
But even the prince does not go inside. He stands by the post of the gate; he worships at the threshold. There is no drawing near as we now do in the Holy Spirit through the torn veil. It is a people blessed on earth, not in the heavenly places.
That limit is not a defect in their blessing; it marks the difference between the two positions.
Still, it remains true that neither the people nor the Prince entered inside. Those who are most blessed on the earth in that day of blessing will never have the access into God's presence that we have, by the Spirit, through the veil.
"The people of the land" in this verse belongs to a wide list of promises about who will one day worship.
Many passages in the Old Testament contain prophetic statements to this effect: all the families of the nations will worship (Ps. 22:27, 29). So will all the earth (Ps. 66:4), kings (Ps. 72:11), all nations whom God has made (Ps. 86:9), the dispersed from Assyria and Egypt (Isa. 27:13), all flesh (Isa. 66:23), the cities of Judah (Jer. 26:2), the prince (Ezek. 46:2), the people of the land (Ezek. 46:3, 9), all the islands of the nations (Zeph. 2:11), all the nations (Zech. 14:16), and so on.
- Order. No one leaves by the door he entered. In the sanctuary, "all things should be done decently and in order" — worship in that day is directed, not improvised.
- Sacrifice. The north gate is the gate of sacrifice. Only by way of sacrifice can anyone be brought before the glory of God.
- Warning. The south points toward Egypt — ease, flesh, and a heat that dries up fruitfulness. The way out teaches as much as the way in.
- Passage. Both gates are needed. Passing through them brings the altar and the House into view, and presses their lessons on the heart.
- Distance. For all their blessing, the people and the prince never go inside. The access we have through the veil is nearer than the best of that coming day.
And the prince shall come in in the midst of them, when they come in; and when they go out, they shall go out [together].
Ezekiel's closing vision describes a temple, a priesthood, and feast days for a restored Israel, and running through it is a figure called simply "the prince." Verse 10 puts him inside the crowd, which raises two questions: who he is, and why a ruler gets no private way in at the feasts.
On ordinary days the prince uses a gate of his own. At the feasts he gives that up, and one commentator explains why:
But on the feast days he goes in for worship with the people so that he should not exalt himself too much… He takes his place with the people of Israel in giving homage to Jehovah.
Readers often assume the prince must be Christ. One commentator rules that out and points instead to a man of David's line who acts for the King:
It is important to notice that Israel in the millennial kingdom will have a prince on earth who will go in and out of the sanctuary. Who is this prince? Certainly not the Lord Jesus, the Messiah Himself. He will be the earthly representative of Jehovah and His Christ, and we learn more of him in Ezekiel 45 and 46. Doubtless he will be a direct descendant of David, God's chosen king of Israel. In chapter 46 he is associated with the people in their sacrificial offerings to Jehovah.
The rule itself settles it. It also gives the prince two sides to his place:
It is clear that we could not apply this regulation for the prince to the Lord Jesus without irreverence. But the prince is His delegate, and in that office he stands alone, yet as one of the chosen nation of Israel he takes his part in the offerings and sacrifices of the people.
The prince follows the same traffic rule as everyone else. One writer finds a wider principle in it:
The people are to enter by one gate and leave by the opposite one. Only two gates are available to them, the north and the south, because the outer east gate always remained closed. This rule of the sanctuary is, in effect, "all things should be done decently and in order" (1 Corinthians 14:40).
Honour and limits come together here. One commentator sees the same ordinances doing both jobs:
The Prince entered by the outer door on the east side, and he went out by the same door. At the solemn feasts, the people went in by the north gate and came out by the south gate, with the Prince among them. When he went in alone, as a voluntary worshipper, he entered and left again by the eastern gate. These ordinances gave remarkable honour to the Prince, in connection with the glory of God, who gave him his place among the people. They equally secured what follows in verses 16-18: the brotherly and kind relations between him and the people of God, and they removed every opportunity of oppression.
The prince goes in with the people — but not all the way in. One writer states the limit set on that future worship:
In the future there will be the godly remnant of Israel on earth. They will be under law, though God will write that law in their hearts, and they will worship by sacrifice. But they will never get into the immediate presence of God in the sanctuary (Jeremiah 31:33; Ezekiel 46), nor, we may add, will they ever be in heaven.
Some readers stumble at the idea of animal sacrifices returning at all. The answer given is that these offerings look backward, not forward:
Some have felt a difficulty about the return of sacrifices. The difficulty disappears when we remember that these sacrifices belong to an earthly people and an earthly temple, and that they will be commemorative in character… In the millennium they will look back to the one sacrifice for sin offered on the cross, just as the sacrifices under the law of Moses foreshadowed it.
- Delegate, not King. The prince is a descendant of David who represents Jehovah and His Christ on earth. No one could lay a rule about when to enter and leave on the Lord Jesus without irreverence.
- Midst, not above. On feast days the prince gives up his private gate and worships inside the crowd, so that he will not exalt himself.
- Order, not preference. In by one gate, out by the opposite one, with no doubling back. The sanctuary has its own rule: all things decently and in order.
- Honour, not oppression. The same rules honour the prince and keep his dealings with the people kind. They leave him no chance to oppress them.
- Threshold, not throne room. That future worship happens on earth, through sacrifices that look back to the cross. It stops short of God's immediate presence.
And on the feast-days, and in the solemnities, the oblation shall be an ephah for a bullock and an ephah for a ram, and for the lambs as he is able to give; and oil, a hin for an ephah.
Ezekiel's closing vision describes worship in a restored temple in Israel's future. This verse fixes what goes with each animal at the great gatherings, and it raises two questions: why sacrifice at all after the cross, and why does God name quantities?
Why offer animals again, when the cross has already happened? One writer answers that these offerings look back, not forward:
Some have felt a difficulty about restoring sacrifices. The difficulty vanishes when we remember two things. These sacrifices belong to an earthly people and an earthly temple, and they will be commemorative in character. In the old system they had no power at all apart from their reference to Christ, "for it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins" (Heb. 10:4). In the millennium they will look back to that one sacrifice for sin which Christ offered on the cross, just as those under the law of Moses looked forward to it.
The grain offering — older translations call it the "meat offering" — has no blood in it. It is flour and oil. One writer explains why this verse repeats its measure:
The oblation, or meal-offering, is now specially emphasised by repeating its measure in relation to the sacrifices. It pictures Christ in His perfect humanity. It brings Him before us as the Son of Man, the One who joins full, perfect and holy Manhood with full Deity. In Him the fulness of the Godhead dwells. It is fitting that what speaks of Him in this character should stand out in these visions of Ezekiel, for they look on to the time of the kingdom of the Son of Man.
Under Moses each animal had its own set amount of grain:
The law fixed the measures of the required meat-offering. They normally varied with the animal offered from the herd or the flock for a burnt-offering or a peace-offering: a tenth of an ephah for a lamb, two tenths for a ram, and three tenths for a bullock. This rule guided anyone who freely offered an animal for a sacrifice of sweet savour. It held good for the daily, the weekly, the monthly, and the yearly celebrations.
Ezekiel names a full ephah for a bull, where the law asked three tenths. One writer reads meaning in the larger amounts:
These enlarged oblations answer to the meal-offerings of old. They picture Christ's Person in its human perfection. They may well speak of how much more people will value Him in that day, when He will no longer be One having no beauty that He should be desired. Of Him they will then sing, "You are the most handsome of the sons of men; grace is poured upon your lips… Your throne, O God, is forever and ever. The scepter of your kingdom is a scepter of uprightness." The larger share of oil shows the greater fulness of the Spirit, and so of understanding.
Where did this grain and oil come from? Ordinary people brought it and handed it to the prince:
First we have the gifts of the people. These consist of wheat, barley, oil, and lambs, in the measure and proportion stated. All the people of the land give them to the Prince, and he is to supply the various offerings at the feasts, the new moons, the sabbaths, and all the solemn gatherings. These gifts have their significance. The lamb needs little remark, since we know it so well as the type of Christ, the Lamb of God. Oil is the well-known symbol of the Holy Spirit. It goes with the oblation of an ephah presented with the various sacrifices.
For the lambs, the verse names no figure. One writer explains the Hebrew word behind this class of offering:
Terumah, the word for heave-offering, means a sacrifice or gift offered up. It is raised or lifted up and presented for acceptance, and so devoted to the Lord's service… Israel used this same word for their gifts for the tabernacle. There we learn God's mind about the inward state of those who offer. It is heart-willingness, the spirit of a person wholly yielded to God in devoted service. The inner attitude answers to the outward act as the gift is lifted up. Here in Ezekiel the word belongs to the oblation that goes with the sacrifices named in these regulations.
- Gift. The flour, oil and lambs are first the people's gifts, handed to the prince, who must supply every feast, new moon and sabbath.
- Person. Lifted onto the altar, that same gift speaks of Christ — the lamb as the Lamb of God, the grain offering as His perfect humanity as Son of Man.
- Measure. The law asked three tenths of an ephah for a bull. Here it is a whole ephah, because people will value Christ far more in that day.
- Spirit. The extra oil, a hin to every ephah, points to a fuller measure of the Holy Spirit and so to fuller understanding of Christ.
- Willingness. The verse sets no figure for the lambs, because God looks for heart-willingness in a lifted-up gift.
- Memory. These sacrifices add nothing: they only look back to the one offering Christ made on the cross.
And when the prince shall offer a voluntary burnt-offering or voluntary peace-offerings unto Jehovah, the gate that looketh toward the east shall be opened for him and he shall offer his burnt-offering and his peace-offerings as he did on the sabbath-day, and he shall go out again, and the gate shall be shut after he hath gone out.
Ezekiel's temple vision lays down who may stand where, and this verse makes one exception. A shut gate opens for one man when he brings a gift no law demanded of him — so who is this prince, and why does this gate matter so much?
The prince holds a place of high honour in these chapters. Yet he is not the Messiah, and two details of his life rule that out.
The entrance of Jehovah, the God of Israel, was enough to close it for all but His representative. But He will have a representative on earth — the prince. The prince shall sit "to eat bread before Jehovah." He is to have the honour of going in and coming out by way of the porch of that gate. No high priest ever claimed this. In fact he is not a priest at all, but the prince, the earthly chief of Israel. He is certainly not the Messiah. The reason: although he is clearly distinguished from a priest, he needs to offer a sin offering, and he may have sons. He is surely a future prince of the house of David.
The eastern gate is not an ordinary door. The glory of the Lord came into the house by it, and it stays shut because of that.
So in the closing of the east gate we see a standing object lesson. It teaches the holiness and supremacy of Jehovah. No one — not even the Prince or the priests — is to be thought of as coming anywhere near equality with God. Free access at the same gate might have suggested that. Yet the Prince is allowed to share a sacrificial meal in the porch of this gate. That hints at the link between the saved nation and the glory of God, which has made this gate holy in a special way. In his place he stands for the nation.
The verse points back to the sabbath pattern. By rule, this inner gate answers to the calendar and not to any man's wish.
Now come the rules for the weekly and monthly feasts — sabbaths and new moons. With them comes a distinctive feature about the east inner gate. It stays closed for the six working days, and opens on the sabbath and on the day of the new moon. At this open gate both Prince and people worship (vv. 2, 3).
Verse 12 breaks that pattern. The gate opens for the prince whenever he chooses to give, and shuts again once he leaves.
A freewill offering answers to no rule. It starts in the giver's heart.
These offerings were to come from hearts touched with a sense of Jehovah's goodness, from people who wanted to do what gave Him pleasure, as the burnt offering expresses. A vow would be a special mark of devotion to the will of God, and a freewill offering the simple desire to give God something in return for His bounty and goodness.
Worship that is not prompted by an occasion carries a weight of its own.
When the soul goes out to God in a voluntary act of worship, that worship carries more spiritual energy than worship that only springs from some special mercy of the moment. Say the Lord sends someone a marked favour from His own hand. The soul rises at once in thanksgiving. That favour awakens the worship and holds it, and there it ends. But when the Holy Spirit leads the heart out in some voluntary or deliberate expression of praise, that praise lasts longer.
Many readers stumble at animal sacrifices reappearing after the cross. Commentators answer that these offerings look backward, not forward.
Some find a difficulty in the return of sacrifices. That difficulty disappears once we remember what these sacrifices are. They belong to an earthly people and an earthly temple, and they are a memorial. Under the old order they had no power at all apart from their reference to Christ... In the millennium they will look back to that one sacrifice for sin offered on the cross. The sacrifices under the law of Moses pointed forward to it.
For all his honour, the prince never passes inside. That limit is the point.
It was fitting that prince and people should worship before Jehovah like this, and with this distinction between them. But even the prince does not go within; he stands by the post of the gate, he worships at the threshold. There is no drawing near as we now do in the Holy Spirit through the torn veil. It is a people blessed on earth, not in the heavenly places.
- Gate shut — the east gate stays shut because the glory of God entered by it. Its closing says that no one stands on level ground with God.
- Gate opened — that same gate opens for the prince whenever he brings a freewill offering, then shuts behind him again.
- Prince — he is not the Messiah and not a priest. He is a future prince of David's line, standing for the nation.
- Freewill — his offering waits for no appointed day. It comes from a heart that wants to give God something back.
- Threshold — even so, he worships at the threshold and goes no further. Israel's blessing is on earth, while believers now draw near through the torn veil.
And thou shalt daily offer a burnt-offering unto Jehovah, of a yearling-lamb without blemish thou shalt prepare it morning by morning.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And thou shalt prepare an oblation with it every morning, the sixth part of an ephah, and of oil the third part of a hin, to moisten the fine flour an oblation unto Jehovah continually by a perpetual ordinance.
Ezekiel's last vision describes a future temple and its offerings, and this verse fixes the grain offering that goes up with the morning lamb. Why do offerings return after the cross, why is the measure larger than before, and why is there no evening lamb?
Many readers stumble at the thought of animal sacrifice returning after the cross. One writer answers that these offerings belong to an earthly people, and that they point back instead of forward:
Some have felt a difficulty about the return of sacrifices. But the difficulty disappears when we remember that these sacrifices belong to an earthly people and an earthly temple, and that they will be commemorative in character. Under the old order they had no power at all apart from their reference to Christ, for it was not possible that the blood of bulls and goats should take away sins (Heb. 10:4). In the millennium they will look back to that one sacrifice for sin, offered on the cross, just as those under the law of Moses foreshadowed it. They will simply recall to the grateful, worshipping hearts of God's people the blood of Jesus Christ His Son, which cleanses from all sin.
The old law fixed a lamb at dawn and a lamb at dusk. Here the evening lamb is gone:
It is remarkable again that the daily offering was still the burnt offering of a lamb, prepared morning by morning as of old — but there was no longer an evening lamb... It was the day when the sun of Israel should go down no more. In the old time an evening lamb was in every way suitable. It comforted the people, once they were awakened to the truth, to know that God had provided for that long, long night in which they had slept, forgetting Him who had died for that nation. But now they are in the light of His day. The evening lamb disappears, while every morning it remains as a continual burnt offering.
One writer points out what set this offering apart. Nothing in it dealt with the sin of men:
Exodus 29:38 gives the instructions for the continual burnt offering. It was a special burnt offering. There was no laying on of hands and no presentation of atonement for men. It was wholly for God in every way. It shows us the unbroken delight of Christ's sacrifice of Himself to God.
Fine flour and oil make up this offering, and one writer reads each one as a picture:
Nothing is softer, more even and less gritty than fine flour. So it is a most fitting type of the smooth and flawless perfection of the life on earth of "the Man Christ Jesus." The oil here, as elsewhere, is typical of the Holy Spirit of God. In His power the Lord Jesus went out on His unequalled path of service, as we see in Luke 3:22 and Luke 4:1, 14.
The lamb never goes up alone. Another writer says why the two belong together:
A meal offering always went with the continual burnt offering. The death of Christ glorifying God is chiefly in view. Yet you cannot separate it from the life of Christ that came before it, a life of obedience to His Father's will. That life showed beyond any doubt that the One who died on the tree was worthy to die that death. He died it for the glory of God and for the blessing of man.
The old law asked for less flour and less oil than this verse does:
The oblation is increased from one-tenth to one-sixth, and the oil from one-quarter of a hin to one-third.
The same writer reads the enlargement as a rise in the worshippers' sense of Christ's worth:
The enlarged offerings answer to the meal offerings of old. They are typical of Christ's Person in its human perfection. They may well speak of the greater appreciation of Him in that day, when He will no longer be One having no beauty that He should be desired... The larger proportion of the oil points to the greater fulness of the Spirit, and so of understanding.
The verse ends by making this rule permanent. God always claimed that permanence for this offering:
A third thing in the law of the burnt offering was that it must be perpetual. It was not occasional but a continual offering throughout their generations. Scripture emphasises this permanence... Why? Because of Jehovah's claim that this should be the main feature of the worship of His people.
- Backward, not forward. These offerings are commemorative. They look back to the one sacrifice on the cross, as Israel's old offerings looked forward to it.
- Morning only. The missing evening lamb marks a day whose sun never sets; Israel's long night of forgetting Him is over.
- Wholly God's. This offering had no laying on of hands and no atonement for men. It stands for God's unbroken delight in Christ's self-sacrifice.
- Life with death. Flour speaks of Christ's flawless human life. Oil speaks of the Spirit's power in it. The lamb never goes up without the grain offering, because the death rests on the life.
- More, and always. The larger measures of flour and oil suggest a greater appreciation of Christ and a fuller understanding by the Spirit. The "perpetual statute" means God never lets that appreciation lapse.
They shall offer the lamb, and the oblation, and the oil, every morning for a continual burnt-offering.
Ezekiel's vision of a future temple ends its rules for worship with the simplest offering of all: one lamb, with flour and oil, set out each morning. Two questions stand out. Why does animal sacrifice appear at all after the cross, and why does this daily offering have a morning but no evening?
These chapters raise an obvious question. How do offerings fit with the finished work of Christ? One writer answers that they point back to the cross, not forward:
Some have found it hard that sacrifices will be restored. The difficulty disappears when we remember two things. These sacrifices belong to an earthly people and an earthly temple, and they will be memorials. Under the old order they had no power at all apart from their reference to Christ, for it was not possible that the blood of bulls and goats should take away sins (Heb. 10:4). In the millennium they will look back to that one sacrifice for sin which was offered on the cross, as those under Moses foreshadowed it.
The verse names three things. The flour and oil make up the meal offering, also called the grain offering:
Nothing is softer, more even and less gritty than fine flour. So it is a most fitting picture of the smooth and flawless perfection of the earthly life of "the Man Christ Jesus." The oil here, as elsewhere, pictures the Holy Spirit of God. In His power the Lord Jesus went out on His unequalled path of service.
The grain offering never stands alone. It goes with the lamb, and a comment on the same pairing in the law says why:
Offerings by fire had to come with grain offerings. This shows that Christ's sacrifice would not have been possible without His perfect life on earth. The two belonged together — and so it was, too, with the continual morning and evening burnt offering.
What is missing from this daily offering sets it apart from other burnt offerings:
Exodus 29:38 gives the instructions for the continual burnt offering, and it was a special burnt offering. No one laid hands on it, and it presented no atonement for people. It was wholly for God in every way. It lets us know the unbroken delight of Christ's sacrifice of Himself to God.
Under the law there were two lambs a day, one in the morning and one in the evening. Here only the morning lamb remains, and one writer finds the reason in the day it belongs to:
It is remarkable again that the daily offering consisted of the burnt offering of a lamb. As of old it was to be prepared morning by morning. But there was no longer an evening lamb. The fitness of this again seems very clear. It was the day when the sun of Israel would never go down again. In earlier times an evening lamb was in every way suitable. It was full of comfort for the people once they woke up to the truth that God had provided for that long, long night. Through that night they had slept in forgetfulness of Him who had died for that nation. But now that they are in the light of His day the evening lamb disappears, while every morning it remains as a continual burnt offering.
Another writer traces the night and morning back to the law of the burnt offering, where the fire burned all night:
It was "all night until the morning" (although it was continual). This no doubt points out that Christ is for Israel always a sweet fragrance to God, even during the present period of Israel's darkness and forgetfulness… In "the morning" Israel will know that their acceptance and blessing is through the work of their Messiah on the cross.
The amounts in verse 14 are larger than the ones given under Moses:
Finally comes the daily burnt offering… The grain offering is increased from one-tenth to one-sixth, and the oil from one-quarter of a hin to one-third.
The verse says the offering "shall be provided," without saying who provides it. One writer finds the answer in the prince:
It does not appear that the people bring sacrifices themselves. It is the Prince who gives everything for the prescribed ritual, including the daily burnt offering (Ezek. 45:17). The people are spoken of as simply worshipping at the times when the Prince offers. But the act of offering is his, with the priests and Levites acting in their own capacities.
- Provided — the prince supplies the daily offering. He offers; all the people worship.
- Composed — lamb, flour and oil: the death of Christ, the flawless perfection of His life, and the Spirit's power in which He served.
- Directed — no hands laid on it, no atonement presented. This offering is wholly for God: His unbroken delight in Christ's self-offering.
- Timed — morning by morning, with no evening lamb. Israel's long night is over, and their sun will not set again.
- Enlarged — the grain and oil are larger than under Moses. The old offerings looked forward to the cross; these look back.