Discussion Notes for the Second Half of Ezekiel 14

       The following is an informal write-up of a Saturday night Bible discussion on the second half of Ezekiel 14.  It is abbreviated, and assumes the material of preceding discussions on Ezekiel.  

       The second half of Ezekiel 14 takes a sharp turn in content and structure from the first half.  Where the first half of the chapter was concerned with paradigm-as-idol influencing how God presents revelation, the second half is a lesson on the limits of righteousness-as-salvation from city destruction.  The second half of the chapter begins with an announcement of audience expansion.

While we know that "All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness” (2 Timothy 3:16), it ought not to be evenly appropriated; it wasn't designed to be used that way.  The law was given to the Hebrews, who had just been freed from four hundred years of slavery, and who were in need of an insta-culture, insta-law, insta-civility; a particular group with a specific mission (to be God’s chosen people as model for covenant living), and under specific conditions.  The law was given in specificity to a particular group, but designed to provide all of humankind with foundational principles to be used, in practical ways, for all those not in the particular group subjected to it in a regulatory manner.  It is true that we live under grace, and that Jesus and His finished work satisfy the law.  We are not, however, free from the law on that strength (Jews, hypothetically, are), we, as gentiles, simply were never subjugated to it.  The point being that all scripture applies to all of humankind but ought not be used in a uniform manner; it is to be appropriated correctly.  It is the burden of the proclaimer to demonstrate the veracity of his/her application of proclamation.  

  Generally, the Book of Ezekiel was written for Ezekiel’s contemporary Israelites/Judeans, who were in a particular condition of judgement.  Generally, we can glean principles from it: God systematically taking down pillars of national pride, glimpses into the mechanics of spirituality, fidelity, the nature of God’s judgement, the foreshadowing of material which enables the arrival and work of Messiah… etc.  However, verse 13 begins by telling the reader that this portion is for countries who are facing destruction at the hand of YHWH because of unfaithfulness.  The intended audience has just been expanded.  If the implicit statement of verse 13 is not enough, the point is underscored by the repeated presentation of the three righteous ones.

  Ezekiel names three specific people who are identified as being righteous: Job, Daniel, Noah.  They really have no qualities in common outside of their condition of righteousness.  Job, as we have discussed earlier, is the universal man, the non-Hebrew, non-Israelite, the one from far (east) over there.  Though he was not an Israelite, he was YHWH recognized/authorized, deeply rooted in the Israelite tradition, he stands before/outside of the law. His brand of righteousness was pious-turned-relational. Noah is the fresh start, the new, post-Adam beginning.  He is foundational, covenantally relational.  His brand of righteousness was staying faithful in a society whose condition was saturatedly evil; an evil with an emphasis on violence.  He was the non-violent (pacifist?) faithful one.  Daniel had a different role.  Block points out that Daniel would’ve been a contemporary of Ezekiel.  He observes that scholars are driven to find a different Daniel than the one commonly associated with Biblical narrative (Block, 448).  The thought being that Daniel would not have already had the deeply rooted reputation amongst the Israelites which  we now assume.  I am not, however, worried about that. I think the Daniel in Ezekiel is the Daniel with whom we are familiar.  I think he was chosen to be the contemporary faithful one.  The Hebrew, bound-to-the-law guy, the one-of-us exemplified (us being the Israelites).  He was the one who was faithful to God and country, not his country mind you, under the conditions of captivity within a highly non-YHWHistic, spiritually-driven culture.  He was chosen to be in the list because his brand of righteousness was representative of their (Ezekiel’s contemporaries) condition, and because they could relate to him; a hero with a cult following, the mascot, with an already developed legendary status.  These three were chosen as a sampling to represent different times, cultures, conditions, nationalities, and dispositions of the “countries” found in verse 13.  Their one commonality was righteousness, a term with which we are familiar.  

  Block defines righteousness in a way that should sound familiar: “…sedaqa refers to spiritual and moral faithfulness expressed in conformity with the divine will.” (Block, 449)  The righteousness of the three was what we know faith to be.  Faith is necessary and essential to proper living, but it is not salvivic.  It is proactive.  It is the consistent act(s) of doing the right thing in the face of the wrong thing, in accordance with YHWH’s revealed intent; acts demonstrating the condition of not being corroded by this world or the ever current, “this present darkness.”  Sin and non-faithfulness is corrosive.  Righteousness opposes corrosion within the agent of the faithful, but it does not corrode corrosion.  What I mean is that while righteousness may have preservative qualities for the agent of the faithful one, it doesn’t undo corrosion, especially not in extended agents (the, other, non-faithful one).  Righteousness may be necessary, but it is not, in and of itself, salvivic.  

  Our pericope leaves us wondering what is salvivic if righteousness is not.  It should leave us disturbed, thinking that our go-to tricks in which we take comfort: piety, pacifism, rebellion to imposed secularism, might not save us, and assuredly won’t save our loved ones, or our country.  Legislated righteousness won’t work; we can’t win God’s favor by making others not have abortions, by making others not be gay, by making others put Christ on coffee cups…  Expecting others to live up to the standard which we believe to be, which we have processed out for our convenient use, which we have interpreted as the proper way to live, won’t save us, our loved ones, our country, or other people’s countries.  The pericope leaves us driven, challenged to find something besides the go-to of holier-than-thou behavior if we are interested in salvation and the well-being of those outside of ourselves.  Ritual won’t do it, sacrificing just-in-case won’t do it, denial/hiding in arks won’t do it, we must look toward transformation.

  We are not given a neatly wrapped answer in chapter 14.  The chapter ends with a pointing toward justification (vindication?).  It points to the comfort of the I-told-you-so.  I somehow think that is not the end though.  If the stated problem is the inability to save those outside of self with personal righteousness, the chapter's ending of a message of the comfort of the I-told-you-so is unsatisfactory; an end without solution.  It is an end without resolution, just a sterile description of what is when we are only internal; when we are only acting out in self-preservation.  So then, we ought to be driven toward resolution, toward a solution of external inclusion, a third-possibility-kind of hope, something transformative and not just preservative.  
     In a struggle to consider what is transformative, I think of things like: Messiah, love, adversity in the hands of YHWH…  I know these things are thematic scriptural solutions, so they are the logical rocks under which to find the answer, but the chapter leaves us in a cliff-hanger. For now we must exist in suspended anticipation with the belief that a redemptive solution is forthcoming.  

        Block, Daniel Isaac. "Chapter 14." The Book of Ezekiel: Chapters 1-24. Vol. 1. Grand Rapids: W.B. Eerdmans, 1997. Print.