An Introduction to the Study of Ezekiel

Michael A. Lyons

• Publisher: T&T Clark
• Year: 2015
• ISBN:
  9780567663108
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Biblical Studies

An introduction to the study of Ezekiel that lays out for the reader the central issues for the interpretation of the book of Ezekiel. After explaining how the message of the prophet was relevant to the exilic situation in which he lived, this thorough guide shows how later generations shaped, transmitted, and used Ezekiel in their own communities. The book summarizes the literary shape and contents of Ezekiel, then examines the theories and methodologies used in current scholarship that explain the formation of Ezekiel. Lyons next explains for the reader the theology and major themes of Ezekiel, and closes by evaluating how the arguments of Ezekiel relate to each other as a coherent rhetorical strategy.

1

The Prophet Ezekiel and the Book of Ezekiel

How is the depiction of Ezekiel the man (as exile, as prophet, as belonging to a priestly family) important for how we read the book? What do we know about the book’s setting—both the setting in the book, and the setting of the book? What are the literary features of the book, including its structure, genres, and distinctive language and imagery? It is with these introductory questions that this chapter is concerned.

1. Ezekiel the prophet

There are two equally problematic approaches to a study of Ezekiel. The first can be seen when readers—perhaps under the influence of older models of historiography as “lives of great men”—attempt to reconstruct the personality of the prophet and treat the book more or less as an autobiography. The problem here is that we have no information about a prophet named Ezekiel other than what is presented in the book, and the limited information that we do have is selected and presented for the rhetorical purposes of the book. The second problematic approach can be seen when readers conclude that, since the book is not a detailed autobiography or history of the prophet, the prophet Ezekiel must therefore be a purely fictional character. But if we do not have enough information to reconstruct a detailed portrait of the prophet, neither do we have enough information to conclude that he did not exist. After all, there is nothing inherently improbable about the depiction of a priest-turned-prophet among the Jewish exiles in Babylon. But if these two approaches are problematic, how then should we approach this book?

A number of scholars (e.g., de Jong 2007; Patton 2004) have pointed out that we have no sure way of getting behind the book to recover “what really happened” in the life of the prophet. What we have in the book is a literary depiction of a prophet. It is instructive to consider the case of the famous surrealist René Magritte, who produced a work of art titled The Treachery of Images. It is a painting of a pipe with a statement underneath proclaiming, “Ceci n’est pas une pipe” (“This is not a pipe”). And indeed, the painting is not a pipe—it is simply a representation of a pipe. In a similar way, the book of Ezekiel offers a presentation of the prophet Ezekiel. As Corrine Patton (2004: 73) remarks, “Ezekiel is a character within the prophetic narrative, through whom the reader experiences the exile.”

Reading the book as the presentation of the prophet will shape the expectations we bring to the text and the kinds of questions we ask. As readers of the book, we must ask: how is the prophet presented, and in what way is the presentation of the prophet relevant to the argument of the book? For example, Ezekiel the prophet is presented as a watchman who gives warning (Ezek 3.16–21; 33.1–9), as a spokesman for the deity YHWH (Ezek 2.4), and as one who serves as evidence of the certainty of the divine word (Ezek 2.5; 33.33). This presentation of the prophet suggests that the book functions as a justification for interpreting the destruction of Jerusalem and deportation of its citizens as divine punishment. But Ezekiel is also presented as a priest—not just as one who acknowledges and interprets the profanation of temple and people, but as one who hopes for the restoration of temple and people. These two depictions relate to each other as part of a larger argument strategy that moves from problem to solution.

As historians who encounter the book, we may investigate the extent to which the depictions in the book of Ezekiel correspond to those in other ancient texts and to our interpretations of material evidence, and then draw conclusions about the historical plausibility or implausibility of these depictions. For example, we might on the one hand conclude with Moshe Greenberg (1983: 171, 201–2) that Ezekiel’s visionary description of “abominations” in the temple (Ezek 8) is not a precise account of what was taking place on the fifth day of the sixth month in 592 BCE, but a telescoping and interpretation of Judah’s religious history. On the other hand, we might conclude that the overall depiction of the prophet in the book is plausible, and that most of the accusations and oracles of judgment make best sense as an exilic-period attempt to explain why the disaster of exile occurred. We might also discover linguistic or sociological evidence that suggests a Babylonian provenance for some of the material in the book. But we should not be surprised when the book does not provide the information to reconstruct the life of the prophet, or to answer all our questions about the social conditions of Judean deportees in Babylon.

a. Ezekiel as an exiled Israelite and the setting of the book

According to the information in Ezek 1.1–3, Ezekiel son of Buzi was a priest who—along with other citizens of Jerusalem—was deported to Babylon in 597 BCE. The deportees were settled by the River Chebar, close to Nippur. He was (possibly; see the discussion below) thirty years old when he had his first visionary experience. According to Ezek 24.18, he was married, but became a widower while in Babylon. His wife’s name is unrecorded; the statement that he was married is only significant for the sign act (his lack of public mourning at his wife’s death) described in 24.15–18. Ezekiel’s own name, which means “God strengthens” or “May God strengthen,” seems to be the subject of wordplay in Ezek 3.7–9, where Ezekiel is told that God will make his face and forehead “strong” in order to stand up to his stubborn audience. The book describes him functioning as a “prophet”—that is, he has visionary experiences and begins to speak messages from Israel’s deity YHWH to his community. While the community elders are described as occasionally consulting him for oracles (Ezek 14.1; 20.1), Ezekiel feels that no one takes him seriously (Ezek 21.5 [ET 20.49]; 33.30–32). In fact, the contents of the book suggest considerable tension between Ezekiel and his community. Beyond this, however, the book does not supply any other personal information.

To understand what Ezekiel is doing in Babylon, we must recall the larger historical and political context. At the end of the seventh century the Babylonian empire, led by King Nabopolassar (625–605), was rising to prominence. Assyria was in decline, having been decisively defeated by Babylon at the siege and destruction of the cities of Asshur (614 BCE) and Nineveh (612 BCE), and at the battle of Carchemish (605 BCE). Egypt’s influence was also severely curtailed by the rise of Babylon. Although King Jehoiakim of Judah was originally installed on the throne as an Egyptian vassal, he became a vassal of Babylon for three years as Babylonian power grew in the west. His son King Jehoiachin was also a vassal of Babylon, but reigned only a few months before the Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar II (605–562) invaded in 597 BCE and deported him along with the other elites of Jerusalem, including Ezekiel, to Babylon. Nebuchadnezzar then set Zedekiah, Jehoiachin’s uncle, on the throne of Judah as a vassal. When King Zedekiah joined neighboring countries in revolting against Babylon, Nebuchadnezzar swiftly responded with military campaigns in the west. After a lengthy siege, the city of Jerusalem fell to the Babylonian army in 587 BCE, and both city and temple were burned. Captives from Judah were taken and resettled in Babylon.

The book of Ezekiel references the Babylonian invasions and ensuing forcible displacements of Jerusalem’s citizens in 597 (Ezek 1.1–3) and 587 (Ezek 25.3; 33.21), as well as the downfall of the Judean monarchy (Ezek 19). It also references Babylonian actions towards surrounding countries, such as Ammon (Ezek 21.23–25 [ET vv. 18–20]), Tyre (Ezek 29.18), and Egypt (Ezek 30.21). What is significant for the understanding of the book is that the prophet responds to and offers an interpretation of these events: according to Ezekiel, the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple and the exile of its citizens was intended and facilitated by Israel’s own deity YHWH as punishment (Ezek 5.11–12; 7.20–24; 17.11–21; 24.1–14, 21; 36.16–19). The hoped-for downfall of surrounding countries is depicted as an appropriate response to their mockery of and hostility to Jerusalem at its fall (e.g., Ezek 25.2–7; 35.2–15).

What were conditions initially like for the Judahite exiles in Babylon? Babylonian sources are scanty, and Ezekiel does not explicitly address this issue. But the information we do have is suggestive (cf. Albertz 2003: 98–111). On the one hand, what we see in the book of Ezekiel indicates that the exiles were not prisoners, but lived in their own community. Moreover, the book makes no reference to hostile actions by the Babylonians towards the community. After all, the purpose of deporting the elites of a vassal nation was not only to prevent further rebellion, but also to integrate them into the fabric of Babylonian society, thereby strengthening it. The letter to the exiles described in Jer 29.1–7 presumes that it was possible for the exiles to thrive in Babylon. And we do have data indicating that by the end of the exilic period, the Judeans enjoyed the same economic and legal rights as Babylonians (Albertz 2003: 101–2). On the other hand, those who underwent forcible displacement and resettlement would have experienced the loss of social ties and religious structures as well as the challenge of adjusting to a new geographical and cultural setting. Ezekiel speaks repeatedly about the shame of defeat and deportation exacerbated by the derision of surrounding nations (Ezek 5.14–15; 7.18; 22.4; 25.3, 8; 36.3–4, 6, 15). He also claims that the exiles of 597 were being marginalized with respect to their heritage by the residents of Jerusalem (Ezek 11.15). Finally, the deportees who survived the destruction of Jerusalem in 587 would have been subjected to humiliation and physical abuse after having undergone the horrors of siege warfare and captivity. A number of commentators have shown how these traumatic experiences are reflected in the language and imagery of the book of Ezekiel (Garber 2004, 2011; Smith-Christopher 2002, 2011).

It is obvious from the descriptions above that the narrative of the book depicts an exilic setting. But what about the setting of the book of Ezekiel as a composition? One of the enduring insights of the historical-critical approach to biblical texts is that the setting and concerns which give rise to a literary work may be considerably later than events depicted in it. In the case of Ezekiel, though, most commentators believe that the setting reflected by the earliest form of the book is also exilic. Such a setting is suggested by the explanations of exile as punishment for violence, idolatry, and Sabbath violation (and the numerous accompanying accusations); the critiques of King Zedekiah (Ezek 17.1–21; 21.30–32 [ET vv. 25–27]); the critique of foreign alliances (Ezek 23.14–17); the reaction to the responses of surrounding nations at the fall of Jerusalem (Ezek 25.1–7; 35.1–15); the observation that Egypt failed to provide aid (Ezek 29.6–7); the hopes for military action by Babylon against surrounding nations (e.g., Ezek 26.7; 29.18–20; 30.24–25); statements that reflect tension between the exilic community and those living in Judah (Ezek 11.1–11, 15; 33.23–29); and arguments that a return from exile lies in the future (Ezek 11.17; 20.34–38, 41–42; 37.12). The majority of commentators also acknowledge the Babylonian provenance of the earliest form of the book, evident from the presence of Akkadian loanwords (e.g., swgr “neck stock,” Ezek 19.9; ’škr “payment,” Ezek 27.15) and familiarity with Mesopotamian imagery and religious-political ideology (Bodi 1991: 35–51; Kutsko 2000: 101–49; Renz 1999: 27–38). This does not, of course, exclude the presence of redactional material in the book that reflects a later setting (see Chapter 2).

For many prophetic books, there is a considerable distance between the audience of the spoken messages of the prophet and the audience of the book composed from those speeches. For example, in the book of Amos we can reconstruct spoken oracles directed to a pre-722 BCE Israelite audience (e.g., Amos 4.1–3, which critiques social injustice in Samaria). Yet these oracles have been collected, edited, and composed into a book for a later reading audience. The paradigmatic nature of the older material for later readers is created by a complex compositional process involving the juxtaposition of generically diverse and originally separate units of material, the insertion of explicit theological reflection about divine election and the extent of judgment (e.g., Amos 9.7–10), and the insertion of material linking hope for restoration with the renewal of the “fallen booth of David” (e.g., Amos 9.11–15; note the temporal perspective of vv. 14–15).

In the case of Ezekiel, however, the situation is different. If we assume on the basis of passages such as Ezek 21.5 [ET 20.49]; 33.30–31 that the prophet Ezekiel did make oral proclamation, the settings of both the audience of prophetic speech and of the readers of the earliest form of the prophetic book are exilic. To be sure, there is inevitably some rhetorical distance even here (Renz 1999: 14–18, 41–42). The book of Ezekiel is actually a narrative about what God told the prophet to say, not a simple transcript of what the prophet actually said. The audience of the speaking prophet would have heard him proclaim disaster against the city prior to its fall; for the readers of the book, Jerusalem had already fallen. Sign acts performed by a speaking prophet are intended to persuade a listening audience; the report of a sign act is intended to make an argument for a reading audience. The reader of the rare appeals to repent (Ezek 14.6; 18.30, 32; 33.11) approaches these passages with a pessimism about their viability that is instilled at the very beginning of the narrative (Ezek 2.3–5; 3.7). The book, then, shows the reader that Ezekiel’s listening audience did not respond to his appeals (cf. Ezek 33.30–32). Yet for both listener and reader, hope for restoration stands in the future. The earliest form of the book of Ezekiel shows no indication that a return from exile was an available option; it attempts to convince the reader that YHWH would make a return possible. The rhetorical setting of the book’s reading audience, then, is very similar to the rhetorical setting of the prophet’s listening audience, even if we cannot get behind the book to reconstruct the exact form of his oral speeches.

The unique compositional nature of the book of Ezekiel will be discussed at greater length in Chapter 2. For now, I want to emphasize the rhetorical significance of the book of Ezekiel as a literary composition. This is not to suggest that Ezekiel the prophet never spoke. As Thomas Renz (1999: 16) notes, it is important that we read the book of Ezekiel as rhetorical literature while at the same time acknowledging that “the written book derives from an oral debate.” But we must take seriously the shape and contents of the book as a literary attempt to solve the problems of an exilic audience. Renz concludes:

… one must not overlook the fact that the book invites its readers to identify with the exilic community. It does not address directly a world beyond the world of the prophet Ezekiel, but rather invites prospective readers to enter into the world of refugees in “Tel Aviv” and their prophet. The book of Ezekiel develops its argument with the reader by narrating the story of a prophet’s unfolding argument with his exilic audience. In this way the book addresses its own audience by having the audience in the book addressed by the prophet. In other words, it is a communication by being a narrative about a communication.

b. Ezekiel as a prophet of YHWH

Prevalent in some earlier studies of Israelite prophecy is a dichotomy between “pre-classical” and “classical” prophecy (sometimes framed as a contrast between “early prophets” and “writing prophets”). Pre-classical prophecy was associated with wandering ecstatics who often operated in groups and who seemed to be associated with regional sanctuaries. In contrast, classical prophecy was thought to be marked by ethical monotheism, and was distinguished both from earlier prophecy (often deprecated as...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Series Page
• Dedication
• Title Page
• Contents
• Abbreviations
• Introduction
• 1 The Prophet Ezekiel and the Book of Ezekiel
• 2 From Prophetic Speech to Prophetic Book
• 3 Israel, YHWH, Land, and Temple
• 4 From Problem to Solution
• Bibliography
• Index of Scriptural References
• Index of Authors
• Copyright