You hear people talk sometimes about “The Bible as
Literature.” Now obviously there’s something to this, in that as a massively old and influential set of texts it’s
immensely important in the literary tradition.
But let’s face it: it just isn’t really “literary” in the ordinary sense
of the word. It reads like a very old
and capriciously edited scrapbook, which is of course what it is. Despite the occasional appearance of a solid
plotline – David and Bathsheba, say – the storytelling has not been particularly
artful or moving. And although people
talk about “the poetry of the King James version,” and that translations
powerful imprint on the history of the language, I frankly doubt things are
much better over there in point of powerful reading. I for one have always felt like the haths and
thines and sayeths add another layer of distance between a modern reader and
the ancient texts.
I say all this just to emphasize what a great opening line
the Book of Ezekiel has.
1 In my thirtieth year, in the fourth month on the fifth
day, while I was among the exiles by the Kebar River, the heavens were opened
and I saw visions of God.
Isn’t that awesome?
The book opens right there in media res, you know exactly where and when
the action is happening, you’ve got some information about the person telling
the story, and you are definitely, definitely interested in reading the next
sentence. Now that’s literature!
In Ezekiel 1, the eponymous prophet describes in great detail his
vision of God and his attendants -- what I assume we would have to call “angels”
although he does not use that word.
Here’s how here, if I'm not mistaken, most people generally think of angels:
Here’s the best rendering I can find of what Ezekiel
describes.
And here’s what God looks like in Ezekiel’s vision: a man
sitting on a sapphire throne, with an upper body that looks like glowing metal
and a lower body of fire, complaining about the Israelites. Seriously. In his instructions to Ezekiel, God
repeats and repeats and REPEATS that the Israelites are a rebellious,
obstinate, and generally obnoxious people.
Ezekiel’s job is to do what he can to talk some sense into
them. At first, he balks at his new
responsibilities. Ezekiel, a very
believable narrator, goes to the people he is supposed to bring his message to, And there, where they were living, I sat among them for seven
days—overwhelmed. (3:15) At the end of
the week, God comes back to give him a pep talk. “If you pass on my warnings and they screw
up,” says God – I paraphrase broadly – “it’s their fault. But if you DON’T pass on my warnings and they
screw up, it’s your fault.” This gets
Ezekiel’s attention.
God’s specific instructions to Ezekiel are incredibly
demanding. He is to lie down on his
right side for 390 days, representing 390 years of a sinful house of Israel;
after which he has to lie on his left side for 40 days to represent 40 years of
a sinful house of Judah. Through all of
this, he will be allowed about half a pound of food per day. In the original instructions he must cook the
food using human shit as fuel. He is
able to haggle on this point, however, and talks God into letting him use cow
manure instead. Despite this concession, it doesn't seem like Ezekiel is going to have much fun as a prophet.
Ezekiel is also instructed to shave his head and burn some
of his hair, cast some of it to the wind, and slash at some of it with a
sword. This, along with the starvation
diet, is prophetic of the coming destruction of Jerusalem. That's is a little confusing in Biblical
sequence, since we saw the destruction of Jerusalem at the end of Jeremiah and
lamented its destruction in Lamentations, but here at the beginning of Ezekiel
we have slipped backwards in time a few years.
Ezekiel is living among the first waves of exiles from Jerusalem, but
the city has not yet fallen. His
starvation diet symbolizes the starvation that will grip the city under siege, a few years in the future,
and the business with his hair symbolizes the various fates that the Israelites
will face as their kingdom is destroyed.
In Ezekiel 6, God makes it clear that destruction isn’t just
of the city folk of Jerusalem; the mountains and rural areas are also in for
it, especially the “high places” where people have worshipped idols and
performed unauthorized sacrifices.
Ezekiel 7 is given the title “The End Has Come” in the NIV, and it
recalls Jeremiah’s predictions of the fall of Judah – except that, again, the
style of the text seems a little more engaging, a little more literary. Here’s the gist, right here:
15 Outside is the sword;
inside are plague and famine.
Those in the country
will die by the sword;
those in the city
will be devoured
by famine and plague.
16 The fugitives who escape
will flee to the mountains.
Like doves of the valleys,
they will all moan,
each for their own sins.
As I skim ahead, it looks from the section headings that
this will not be an especially cheerful book.
We’ll find out more next week!
