Chapter XXV. The Import Of The Vision.

We have now reached the last and in every way the most important section

of the book of Ezekiel. The nine concluding chapters record what was

evidently the crowning experience of the prophet’s life. His ministry

began with a vision of God; it culminates in a vision of the people of

God, or rather of God in the midst of His people, reconciled to them,

ruling over them, and imparting the blessings and glories of the final

dispensation. Into that vision are thrown the ideals which had been

gradually matured through twenty years of strenuous action and intense

meditation. We have traced some of the steps by which the prophet was led

towards this consummation of his work. We have seen how, under the idea of

God which had been revealed to him, he was constrained to announce the

destruction of that which called itself the people of Jehovah, but was in

reality the means of obscuring His character and profaning His holiness

(chs. iv.‐xxiv.). We have seen further how the same fundamental conception

led him on in his prophecies against foreign nations to predict a great

clearing of the stage of history for the manifestation of Jehovah (chs.

xxv.‐xxxii.). And we have seen from the preceding section what are the

processes by which the divine Spirit breathes new life into a dead nation

and creates out of its scattered members a people worthy of the God whom

the prophet has seen.

But there is still something more to accomplish before his task is

finished. All through, Ezekiel holds fast the truth that Jehovah and

Israel are necessarily related to each other, and that Israel is to be the

medium through which alone the nature of Jehovah can be fully disclosed to

mankind. It remains, therefore, to sketch the outline of a perfect

theocracy—in other words, to describe the permanent forms and institutions

which shall express the ideal relation between God and men. To this task

the prophet addresses himself in the chapters now before us. That great

New Year’s Vision may be regarded as the ripe fruit of all God’s training

of His prophet, as it is also the part of Ezekiel’s work which most

directly influenced the subsequent development of religion in Israel.

It cannot be doubted, then, that these chapters are an integral part of

the book, considered as a record of Ezekiel’s work. But it is certainly a

significant circumstance that they are separated from the body of the

prophecies by an interval of thirteen years. For the greater part of that

time Ezekiel’s literary activity was suspended. It is probable, at all

events, that the first thirty‐nine chapters had been committed to writing

soon after the latest date they mention, and that the oracle on Gog, which

marks the extreme limit of Ezekiel’s prophetic vision, was really the

conclusion of an earlier form of the book. And we may be certain that,

since the eventful period that followed the arrival of the fugitive from

Jerusalem, no new divine communication had visited the prophet’s mind. But

at last, in the twenty‐fifth year of the captivity, and on the first day

of a new year,(205) he falls into a trance more prolonged than any he had

yet passed through, and he emerged from it with a new message for his

people.

In what direction were the prophet’s thoughts moving as Israel passed into

the midnight of her exile? That they have moved in the interval—that his

standpoint is no longer quite identical with that represented in his

earlier prophecies—seems to be shown by one slight modification of his

previous conceptions, which has been already mentioned.(206) I refer to

the position of the prince in the theocratic state. We find that the king

is still the civil head of the commonwealth, but that his position is

hardly reconcilable with the exalted functions assigned to the Messianic

king in ch. xxxiv. The inference seems irresistible that Ezekiel’s point

of view has somewhat changed, so that the objects in his picture present

themselves in a different perspective.

It is true that this change was effected by a vision, and it may be said

that that fact forbids our regarding it as indicating a progress in

Ezekiel’s thoughts. But the vision of a prophet is never out of relation

to his previous thinking. The prophet is always prepared for his vision;

it comes to him as the answer to questions, as the solution of

difficulties, whose force he has felt, and apart from which it would

convey no revelation of God to his mind. It marks the point at which

reflection gives place to inspiration, where the incommunicable certainty

of the divine word lifts the soul into the region of spiritual and eternal

truth. And hence it may help us, from our human point of view, to

understand the true import of this vision, if from the answer we try to

discover the questions which were of pressing interest to Ezekiel in the

later part of his career.

Speaking generally, we may say that the problem that occupied the mind of

Ezekiel at this time was the problem of a religious constitution. How to

secure for religion its true place in public life, how to embody it in

institutions which shall conserve its essential ideas and transmit them

from one generation to another, how a people may best express its national

responsibility to God—these and many kindred questions are real and vital

to‐day amongst the nations of Christendom, and they were far more vital in

the age of Ezekiel. The conception of religion as an inward spiritual

power, moulding the life of the nation and of each individual member, was

at least as strong in him as in any other prophet; and it had been

adequately expressed in the section of his book dealing with the formation

of the new Israel. But he saw that this was not for that time sufficient.

The mass of the community were dependent on the educative influence of the

institutions under which they lived, and there was no way of impressing on

a whole people the character of Jehovah except through a system of laws

and observances which should constantly exhibit it to their minds. The

time was not yet come when religion could be trusted to work as a hidden

leaven, transforming life from within and bringing in the kingdom of God

silently by the operation of spiritual forces. Thus, while the last

section insists on the moral change that must pass over Israel, and the

need of a direct influence from God on the heart of the people, that which

now lies before us is devoted to the religious and political arrangements

by which the sanctity of the nation must be preserved.

Starting from this general notion of what the prophet sought, we can see,

in the next place, that his attention must be mainly concentrated on

matters belonging to public worship and ritual. Worship is the direct

expression in word and act of man’s attitude to God, and no public

religion can maintain a higher level of spirituality than the symbolism

which gives it a place in the life of the people. That fact had been

abundantly illustrated by the experience of centuries before the Exile.

The popular worship had always been a stronghold of false religion in

Israel. The high places were the nurseries of all the corruptions against

which the prophets had to contend, not simply because of the immoral

elements that mingled with their worship, but because the worship itself

was regulated by conceptions of the deity which were opposed to the

religion of revelation. Now the idea of using ritual as a vehicle of the

highest spiritual truth is certainly not peculiar to Ezekiel’s vision. But

it is there carried through with a thoroughness which has no parallel

elsewhere except in the priestly legislation of the Pentateuch. And this

bears witness to a clear perception on the part of the prophet of the

value of that whole side of things for the future development of religion

in Israel. No one was more deeply impressed with the evils that had flowed

from a corrupt ritual in the past, and he conceives the final form of the

kingdom of God to be one in which the blessings of salvation are

safeguarded by a carefully regulated system of religious ordinances. It

will become manifest as we proceed that he regards the Temple ritual as

the very centre of theocratic life, and the highest function of the

community of the true religion.

But Ezekiel was prepared for the reception of this vision, not only by the

practical reforming bent of his mind, but also by a combination in his own

experience of the two elements which must always enter into a conception

of this nature. If we may employ philosophical language to express a very

obvious distinction, we have to recognise in the vision a material and a

formal element. The matter of the vision is derived from the ancient

religious and political constitution of the Hebrew state. All true and

lasting reformations are conservative at heart; their object never is to

make a clean sweep of the past, but so to modify what is traditional as to

adapt it to the needs of a new era. Now Ezekiel was a priest, and

possessed all a priest’s reverence for antiquity, as well as a priest’s

professional knowledge of ceremonial and of consuetudinary law. No man

could have been better fitted than he to secure the continuity of Israel’s

religious life along the particular line on which it was destined to move.

Accordingly we find that the new theocracy is modelled from beginning to

end after the pattern of the ancient institutions which had been destroyed

by the Exile. If we ask, for example, what is the meaning of some detail

of the Temple building, such as the cells surrounding the main sanctuary,

the obvious and sufficient answer is that these things existed in

Solomon’s Temple, and there was no reason for altering them. On the other

hand, whenever we find the vision departing from what had been

traditionally established, we may be sure that there is a reason for it,

and in most cases we can see what that reason was. In such departures we

recognise the working of what we have called the formal element of the

vision, the moulding influence of the ideas which the system was intended

to express. What these ideas were we shall consider in subsequent

chapters; here it is enough to say that they were the fundamental ideas

which had been communicated to Ezekiel in the course of his prophetic

work, and which have found expression in various forms in other parts of

his writings. That they are not peculiar to Ezekiel, but are shared by

other prophets, is true, just as it is true on the other hand that the

priestly conceptions which occupy so large a place in his mind were an

inheritance from the whole past history of the nation. Nor was this the

first time when an alliance between the ceremonialism of the priesthood

and the more ethical and spiritual teaching of prophecy had proved of the

utmost advantage to the religious life of Israel.(207) The unique

importance of Ezekiel’s vision lies in the fact that the great development

of prophecy was now almost complete, and that the time was come for its

results to be embodied in institutions which were in the main of a

priestly character. And it was fitting that this new era of religion

should be inaugurated through the agency of one who combined in his own

person the conservative instincts of the priest with the originality and

the spiritual intuition of the prophet.

It is not suggested for a moment that these considerations account for the

inception of the vision in the prophet’s mind. We are not to regard it as

merely the brilliant device of an ingenious man, who was exceptionally

qualified to read the signs of the times, and to discover a solution for a

pressing religious problem. In order that it might accomplish the end in

view, it was absolutely necessary that it should be invested with a

supernatural sanction and bear the stamp of divine authority. Ezekiel

himself was well aware of this, and would never have ventured to publish

his vision if he had thought it all out for himself. He had to wait for

the time when “the hand of the Lord was upon him,” and he saw in vision

the new Temple and the river of life proceeding from it, and the renovated

land, and the glory of God taking up its everlasting abode in the midst of

His people. Until that moment arrived he was without a message as to the

form which the life of the restored Israel must assume. Nevertheless the

psychological conditions of the vision were contained in those parts of

the prophet’s experience which have just been indicated. Processes of

thought which had long occupied his mind suddenly crystallised at the

touch of the divine hand, and the result was the marvellous conception of

a theocratic state which was Ezekiel’s greatest legacy to the faith and

hopes of his countrymen.

That this vision of Ezekiel’s profoundly influenced the development of

post‐exilic Judaism may be inferred from the fact that all the best

tendencies of the restoration period were towards the realisation of the

ideals which the vision sets forth with surpassing clearness. It is

impossible, indeed, to say precisely how far Ezekiel’s influence extended,

or how far the returning exiles consciously aimed at carrying out the

ideas contained in his sketch of a theocratic constitution. That they did

so to some extent is inferred from a consideration of some of the

arrangements established in Jerusalem soon after the return from

Babylon.(208) But it is certain that from the nature of the case the

actual institutions of the restored community must have differed very

widely in many points from those described in the last nine chapters of

Ezekiel. When we look more closely at the composition of this vision, we

see that it contains features which neither then nor at any subsequent

time have been historically fulfilled. The most remarkable thing about it

is that it unites in one picture two characteristics which seem at first

sight difficult to combine. On the one hand it bears the aspect of a rigid

legislative system intended to regulate human conduct in all matters of

vital moment to the religious standing of the community; on the other hand

it assumes a miraculous transformation of the physical aspect of the

country, a restoration of all the twelve tribes of Israel under a native

king, and a return of Jehovah in visible glory to dwell in the midst of

the children of Israel for ever. Now these supernatural conditions of the

perfect theocracy could not be realised by any effort on the part of the

people, and as a matter of fact were never literally fulfilled at all. It

must have been plain to the leaders of the Return that for this reason

alone the details of Ezekiel’s legislation were not binding for them in

the actual circumstances in which they were placed. Even in matters

clearly within the province of human administration we know that they

considered themselves free to modify his regulations in accordance with

the requirements of the situation in which they found themselves. It does

not follow from this, however, that they were ignorant of the book of

Ezekiel, or that it gave them no help in the difficult task to which they

addressed themselves. It furnished them with an ideal of national

holiness, and the general outline of a constitution in which that ideal

should be embodied; and this outline they seem to have striven to fill up

in the way best adapted to the straitened and discouraging circumstances

of the time.

But this throws us back on some questions of fundamental importance for

the right understanding of Ezekiel’s vision. Taking the vision as a whole,

we have to ask whether a fulfilment of the kind just indicated was the

fulfilment that the prophet himself anticipated. Did he lay stress on the

legislative or the supernatural aspect of the vision—on man’s agency or on

God’s? In other words, does he issue it as a programme to be carried out

by the people as soon as the opportunity is presented by their return to

the land of Canaan? or does he mean that Jehovah Himself must take the

initiative by miraculously preparing the land for their reception, and

taking up His abode in the finished Temple, the “place of His throne, and

the place of the soles of His feet”? The answer to these questions is not

difficult, if only we are careful to look at things from the prophet’s

point of view, and disregard the historical events in which his

predictions were partly realised. It is frequently assumed that the

elaborate description of the Temple buildings in chs. xl.‐xlii. is

intended as a guide to the builders of the second Temple, who are to make

it after the fashion of that which the prophet saw on the mount. It is

quite probable that in some degree it may have served that purpose; but it

seems to me that this view is not in keeping with the fundamental idea of

the vision. The Temple that Ezekiel saw, and the only one of which he

speaks, is a house not made with hands; it is as much a part of the

supernatural preparation for the future theocracy as the “very high

mountain” on which it stands, or the river that flows from it to sweeten

the waters of the Dead Sea. In the important passage where the prophet is

commanded to exhibit the plan of the house to the children of Israel (ch.

xliii. 10, 11), there is unfortunately a discrepancy between the Hebrew

and Greek texts which throws some obscurity on this particular point.

According to the Hebrew there can hardly be a doubt that a sketch is shown

to them which is to be used as a builder’s plan at the time of the

Restoration.(209) But in the Septuagint, which seems on the whole to give

a more correct text, the passage runs thus: “And, thou son of man,

describe the house to the house of Israel (and let them be ashamed of

their iniquities), and its form, and its construction: and they shall be

ashamed of all that they have done. And do thou sketch the house, and its

exits, and its outline; and all its ordinances and all its laws make known

to them; and write it before them, that they may keep all its commandments

and all its ordinances, and do them.” There is nothing here to suggest

that the construction of the Temple was left for human workmanship. The

outline of it is shown to the people only that they may be ashamed of all

their iniquities. When the arrangements of the ideal Temple are explained

to them, they will see how far those of the first Temple transgressed the

requirements of Jehovah’s holiness, and this knowledge will produce a

sense of shame for the dulness of heart which tolerated so many abuses in

connection with His worship. No doubt that impression sank deep into the

minds of Ezekiel’s hearers, and led to certain important modifications in

the structure of the Temple when it had to be built; but that is not what

the prophet is thinking of. At the same time we see clearly that he is

very much in earnest with the legislative part of his vision. Its laws are

real laws, and are given that they may be obeyed—only they do not come

into force until all the institutions of the theocracy, natural and

supernatural alike, are in full working order. And apart from the doubtful

question as to the erection of the Temple, that general conclusion holds

good for the vision as a whole. Whilst it is pervaded throughout by the

legislative spirit, the miraculous features are after all its central and

essential elements. When these conditions are realised, it will be the

duty of Israel to guard her sacred institutions by the most scrupulous and

devoted obedience; but till then there is no kingdom of God established on

earth, and therefore no system of laws to conserve a state of salvation,

which can only be brought about by the direct and visible interposition of

the Almighty in the sphere of nature and history.

This blending of seemingly incongruous elements reveals to us the true

character of the vision with which we have to deal. It is in the strictest

sense a Messianic prophecy—that is, a picture of the kingdom of God in its

final state as the prophet was led to conceive it. It is common to all

such representations that the human authors of them have no idea of a long

historical development gradually leading up to the perfect manifestation

of God’s purpose with the world. The impending crisis in the affairs of

the people of Israel is always regarded as the consummation of human

history and the establishment of God’s kingdom in the plenitude of its

power and glory. In the time of Ezekiel the next step in the unfolding of

the divine plan of redemption was the restoration of Israel to its own

land; and in so far as his vision is a prophecy of that event, it was

realised in the return of the exiles with Zerubbabel in the first year of

Cyrus. But to the mind of Ezekiel this did not present itself as a mere

step towards something immeasurably higher in the remote future. It is to

include everything necessary for the complete and final inbringing of the

Messianic dispensation, and all the powers of the world to come are to be

displayed in the acts by which Jehovah brings back the scattered members

of Israel to the enjoyment of blessedness in His own presence.

The thing that misleads us as to the real nature of the vision is the

emphasis laid on matters which seem to us of merely temporal and earthly

significance. We are apt to think that what we have before us can be

nothing else than a legislative scheme to be carried out more or less

fully in the new state that should arise after the Exile. The miraculous

features in the vision are apt to be dismissed as mere symbolisms to which

no great significance attaches. Legislating for the millennium seems to us

a strange occupation for a prophet, and we are hardly prepared to credit

even Ezekiel with so bold a conception. But that depends entirely on his

idea of what the millennium will be. If it is to be a state of things in

which religious institutions are of vital importance for the maintenance

of the spiritual interests of the community of the people of God, then

legislation is the natural expression for the ideals which are to be

realised in it. And we must remember, too, that what we have to do with is

a vision. Ezekiel is not the ultimate source of this legislation, however

much it may bear the impress of his individual experience. He has seen the

city of God, and all the minute and elaborate regulations with which these

nine chapters are filled are but the exposition of principles that

determine the character of a people amongst whom Jehovah can dwell.

At the same time we see that a separation of different aspects of the

vision was inevitably effected by the teaching of history. The return from

Babylon was accomplished without any of those supernatural adjuncts with

which it had been invested in the rapt imagination of the prophet. No

transformation of the land preceded it; no visible presence of Jehovah

welcomed the exiles back to their ancient abode. They found Jerusalem in

ruins, the holy and beautiful house a desolation, the land occupied by

aliens, the seasons unproductive as of old. Yet in the hearts of these men

there was a vision even more impressive than that of Ezekiel in his

solitude. To lay the foundations of a theocratic state in the dreary,

discouraging daylight of the present was an act of faith as heroic as has

ever been performed in the history of religion. The building of the Temple

was undertaken amidst many difficulties, the ritual was organised, the

rudiments of a religious constitution appeared, and in all this we see the

influence of those principles of national holiness that had been

formulated by Ezekiel. But the crowning manifestation of Jehovah’s glory

was deferred. Prophet after prophet appeared to keep alive the hope that

this Temple, poor in outward appearance as it was, would yet be the centre

of a new world, and the dwelling‐place of the Eternal. Centuries rolled

past, and still Jehovah did not come to His Temple, and the eschatological

features which had bulked so largely in Ezekiel’s vision remained an

unfulfilled aspiration. And when at length in the fulness of time the

complete revelation of God was given, it was in a form that superseded the

old economy entirely, and transformed its most stable and cherished

institutions into adumbrations of a spiritual kingdom which knew no

earthly Temple and had need of none.

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

This brings us to the most difficult and most important of all the

questions arising in connection with Ezekiel’s vision—What is its relation

to the Pentateuchal Legislation? It is obvious at once that the

significance of this section of the book of Ezekiel is immensely enhanced

if we accept the conclusion to which the critical study of the Old

Testament has been steadily driven, that in the chapters before us we have

the first outline of that great conception of a theocratic constitution

which attained its finished expression in the priestly regulations of the

middle books of the Pentateuch. The discussion of this subject is so

intricate, so far‐reaching in its consequences, and ranges over so wide an

historical field, that one is tempted to leave it in the hands of those

who have addressed themselves to its special treatment, and to try to get

on as best one may without assuming a definite attitude on one side or the

other. But the student of Ezekiel cannot altogether evade it. Again and

again the question will force itself on him as he seeks to ascertain the

meaning of the various details of Ezekiel’s legislation, How does this

stand related to corresponding requirements in the Mosaic law? It is

necessary, therefore, in justice to the reader of the following pages,

that an attempt should be made, however imperfectly, to indicate the

position which the present phase of criticism assigns to Ezekiel in the

history of the Old Testament legislation.

We may begin by pointing out the kind of difficulty that is felt to arise

on the supposition that Ezekiel had before him the entire body of laws

contained in our present Pentateuch. We should expect in that case that

the prophet would contemplate a restoration of the divine institutions

established under Moses, and that his vision would reproduce with

substantial fidelity the minute provisions of the law by which these

institutions were to be maintained. But this is very far from being the

case. It is found that while Ezekiel deals to a large extent with the

subjects for which provision is made by the law, there is in no instance

perfect correspondence between the enactments of the vision and those of

the Pentateuch, while on some points they differ very materially from one

another. How are we to account for these numerous and, on the supposition,

evidently designed divergencies? It has been suggested that the law was

found to be in some respects unsuitable to the state of things that would

arise after the Exile, and that Ezekiel in the exercise of his prophetic

authority undertook to adapt it to the conditions of a late age. The

suggestion is in itself plausible, but it is not confirmed by the history.

For it is agreed on all hands that the law as a whole had never been put

in force for any considerable period of Israel’s history previous to the

Exile. On the other hand, if we suppose that Ezekiel judged its provisions

unsuitable for the circumstances that would emerge after the Exile, we are

confronted by the fact that where Ezekiel’s legislation differs from that

of the Pentateuch it is the latter and not the former that regulated the

practice of the post‐exilic community. So far was the law from being out

of date in the age of Ezekiel that the time was only approaching when the

first effort would be made to accept it in all its length and breadth as

the authoritative basis of an actual theocratic polity. Unless, therefore,

we are to hold that the legislation of the vision is entirely in the air,

and that it takes no account whatever of practical considerations, we must

feel that a certain difficulty is presented by its unexplained deviations

from the carefully drawn ordinances of the Pentateuch.

But this is not all. The Pentateuch itself is not a unity. It consists of

different strata of legislation which, while irreconcilable in details,

are held to exhibit a continuous progress towards a clearer definition of

the duties that devolve on different classes in the community, and a

fuller exposition of the principles that underlay the system from the

beginning. The analysis of the Mosaic writings into different legislative

codes has resulted in a scheme which in its main outlines is now accepted

by critics of all shades of opinion. The three great codes which we have

to distinguish are: (1) the so‐called Book of the Covenant (Exod. xx.

24‐xxiii., with which may be classed the closely allied code of Exod.

xxxiv. 10‐28); (2) the Book of Deuteronomy; and (3) the Priestly Code

(found in Exod. xxv.‐xxxi., xxxv.‐xl., the whole book of Leviticus, and

nearly the whole of the book of Numbers).(210) Now of course the mere

separation of these different documents tells us nothing, or not much, as

to their relative priority or antiquity. But we possess at least a certain

amount of historical and independent evidence as to the times when some of

them became operative in the actual life of the nation. We know, for

example, that the Book of Deuteronomy attained the force of statute law

under the most solemn circumstances by a national covenant in the

eighteenth year of Josiah. The distinctive feature of that book is its

impressive enforcement of the principle that there is but one sanctuary at

which Jehovah can be legitimately worshipped. When we compare the list of

reforms carried out by Josiah, as given in the twenty‐third chapter of 2

Kings, with the provisions of Deuteronomy, we see that it must have been

that book and it alone that had been found in the Temple and that governed

the reforming policy of the king. Before that time the law of the one

sanctuary, if it was known at all, was certainly more honoured in the

breach than the observance. Sacrifices were freely offered at local altars

throughout the country, not merely by the ignorant common people and

idolatrous kings, but by men who were the inspired religious leaders and

teachers of the nation. Not only so, but this practice is sanctioned by

the Book of the Covenant, which permits the erection of an altar in every

place where Jehovah causes His name to be remembered, and only lays down

injunctions as to the kind of altar that might be used (Exod. xx. 24‐26).

The evidence is thus very strong that the Book of Deuteronomy, at whatever

time it may have been written, had not the force of public law until the

year 621 B.C., and that down to that time the accepted and authoritative

expression of the divine will for Israel was the law embraced in the Book

of the Covenant.

To find similar evidence of the practical adoption of the Priestly Code we

have to come down to a much later period. It is not till the year 444

B.C., in the time of Ezra and Nehemiah, that we read of the people

pledging themselves by a solemn covenant to the observance of regulations

which are clearly those of the finished system of Pentateuchal law (Neh.

viii.‐x.). It is there expressly stated that this law had not been

observed in Israel up to that time (Neh. ix. 34), and in particular that

the great Feast of Tabernacles had not been celebrated in accordance with

the requirements of the law since the days of Joshua (Neh. viii. 17). This

is quite conclusive as to actual practice in Israel; and the fact that the

observance of the law was thus introduced by instalments and on occasions

of epoch‐making importance in the history of the community raises a strong

presumption against the hypothesis that the Pentateuch was an inseparable

literary unity which must be known in its entirety where it was known at

all.

Now the date of Ezekiel’s vision (572) lies between these two historic

transactions—the inauguration of the law of Deuteronomy in 621, and that

of the Priestly Code in 444; and in spite of the ideal character which

belongs to the vision as a whole, it contains a system of legislation

which admits of being compared point by point with the provisions of the

other two codes on a variety of subjects common to all three. Some of the

results of this comparison will appear as we proceed with the exposition

of the chapters before us. But it will be convenient to state here the

important conclusion to which a number of critics have been led by

discussion of this question. It is held that Ezekiel’s legislation

represents on the whole a transition from the law of Deuteronomy to the

more complex system of the Priestly document. The three codes exhibit a

regular progression, the determining factor of which is a growing sense of

the importance of the Temple worship and of the necessity for a careful

regulation of the acts which express the religious standing and privileges

of the community. On such matters as the feasts, the sacrifices, the

distinction between priests and Levites, the Temple dues, and the

provision for the maintenance of ordinances, it is found that Ezekiel lays

down enactments which go beyond those of Deuteronomy and anticipate a

further development in the same direction in the Levitical

legislation.(211) The legislation of Ezekiel is accordingly regarded as a

first step towards the codification of the ritual laws which regulated the

usage of the first Temple. It is not of material consequence to know how

far these laws had been already committed to writing, or how far they had

been transmitted by oral tradition. The important point is that down to

the time of Ezekiel the great body of ritual law had been the possession

of the priests, who communicated it to the people in the shape of

particular decisions as occasion demanded. Even the book of Deuteronomy,

except on one or two points, such as the law of leprosy and of clean and

unclean animals, does not encroach on matters of ritual, which it was the

special province of the priesthood to administer. But now that the time

was drawing near when the Temple and its worship were to be the very

centre of the religious life of the nation, it was necessary that the

essential elements of the ceremonial law should be systematised and

published in a form understood of the people. The last nine chapters of

Ezekiel, then, contain the first draft of such a scheme, drawn from an

ancient priestly tradition which in its origin went back to the time of

Moses. It is true that this was not the precise form in which the law was

destined to be put in practice in the post‐exilic community. But Ezekiel’s

legislation served its purpose when it laid down clearly, with the

authority of a prophet, the fundamental ideas that underlie the conception

of ritual as an aid to spiritual religion. And these ideas were not lost

sight of, though it was reserved for others, working under the impulse

supplied by Ezekiel, to perfect the details of the system, and to adopt

the principles of the vision to the actual circumstances of the second

Temple. Through what subsequent stages the work was carried we can hardly

hope to determine with exactitude; but it was finished in all essential

respects before the great covenant of Ezra and Nehemiah in the year

444.(212)

Let us now consider the bearing of this theory on the interpretation of

Ezekiel’s vision. It enables us to do justice to the unmistakable

practical purpose which pervades its legislation. It frees us from the

grave difficulties involved in the assumption that Ezekiel wrote with the

finished Pentateuch before him. It vindicates the prophet from the

suspicion of arbitrary deviations from a standard of venerable antiquity

and of divine authority which was afterwards proved by experience to be

suited to the requirements of that restored Israel in whose interest

Ezekiel legislated. And in doing so it gives a new meaning to his claim to

speak as a prophet ordaining a new system of laws with divine authority.

Whilst perfectly consistent with the inspiration of the Mosaic books, it

places that of Ezekiel on a surer footing than does the supposition that

the whole Pentateuch was of Mosaic authorship. It involves, no doubt, that

the details of the Priestly law were in a more or less fluid condition

down to the time of the Exile; but it explains the otherwise unaccountable

fact that the several parts of the law became operative at different times

in Israel’s history, and explains it in a manner that reveals the working

of a divine purpose through all the ages of the national existence. It

becomes possible to see that Ezekiel’s legislation and that of the

Levitical books are in their essence alike Mosaic, as being founded on the

institutions and principles established by Moses at the beginning of the

nation’s history. And an altogether new interest is imparted to the former

when we learn to regard it as an epoch‐making contribution to the task

which laid the foundation of the post‐exilic theocracy—the task of

codifying and consolidating the laws which expressed the character of the

new nation as a holy people consecrated to the service of Jehovah, the

Holy One of Israel.

The Expositor's Bible: The Book of Ezekiel · 第 2 / 6 章