The book of Ezekiel draws us into the heart of exile, where a priest turned prophet stands among the captives by the Kebar River, bearing witness to Israel’s downfall and envisioning her renewal. In the sixth century before Christ, as Jerusalem’s leaders and temple worship lay in ruins, Ezekiel received vivid visions that both condemned the people’s unfaithfulness and revealed God’s steadfast purpose to restore a fractured community. Through symbolic actions and breathtaking imagery, he calls us to take responsibility for our neighbors, to hate evil, and to love one another by seeking justice, mercy, and repentance together.
When Ezekiel first sees the likeness of four living creatures and wheels within wheels, he is overwhelmed by the glory of God departing the temple (Ezekiel 1; 10). This departure signals divine judgment on a people who had turned worship into empty ritual. We, too, must guard against complacent devotion—praying and singing while injustice and apathy fester around us. Jesus warned that true worshipers must worship in spirit and truth (John 4:23), reminding us that God’s presence cannot be contained in traditions that ignore the cries of the poor and oppressed.
Ezekiel’s early prophecies warn that Jerusalem’s leaders had become shepherds who ate the fat and clothed themselves with the wool, neglecting the flock (Ezekiel 34:2–3). Their greed and indifference led to scattered sheep. The prophet promises a shepherd after God’s own heart who will tend the flock, binding up the injured and searching for the lost (Ezekiel 34:11–16). When Jesus declared, “I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep” (John 10:11), He stepped into Ezekiel’s vision, embodying neighbor-love by seeking out those who wander, healing the wounded, and offering rest to the weary.
Ezekiel’s “son of man” title emphasizes his role as a representative of humanity called to speak God’s word (Ezekiel 2:1). The term later becomes a Messianic title in the Gospels, where Jesus refers to Himself as the “Son of Man” who suffers, dies, and is raised (Mark 8:31). In both cases, we see that true leadership involves solidarity with the vulnerable—sharing in their pain, speaking truth to power, and pointing toward resurrection life.
One of the most poignant scenes is the valley of dry bones. Ezekiel stands among bones, hears God’s command to prophesy to them, and watches as sinews, flesh, and breath animate a vast army (Ezekiel 37:1–14). This vision captures the promise of national resurrection for an exiled people, and it points us beyond to the ultimate resurrection in Christ. When Jesus affirmed, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live” (John 11:25), He offered life to hearts long dead in sin. In our neighborhoods, we see dry bones in broken families, addiction, and despair—but we are called to proclaim the Spirit’s power to bring healing and new life.
Ezekiel’s symbolic acts—lying on his side for 390 days, eating a scroll, building a siege model—illustrate the personal cost of intercession and the lengths God goes to communicate His message (Ezekiel 4–5; 3:1–3). These signs remind us that loving our neighbors sometimes calls for costly commitment: all-night prayer vigils, standing with victims of injustice, or fasting and lament for communities in crisis. Jesus modeled this kind of intercession when He prayed all night for His disciples (Luke 6:12), teaching us that spiritual engagement demands time, sacrifice, and a willingness to enter deeply into our neighbors’ suffering.
As Babylon’s dominance grows, Ezekiel’s prophecies shift toward hope. He envisions a new heart of flesh replacing a heart of stone (Ezekiel 36:26). This promise foreshadows Jesus’ gift of the Holy Spirit, who writes God’s law on our hearts rather than on tablets of stone, enabling us to obey from love rather than compulsion. When John records Jesus saying, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink; out of his heart will flow rivers of living water” (John 7:37–38), he echoes Ezekiel’s promise of inner renewal. As the Spirit transforms our hearts, we overflow with compassion for neighbors, doing justice and walking humbly with God.
Ezekiel’s temple vision in chapters 40–48 paints a mile-long city with a renewed temple at its center, altar cleansed, and priests in rightful service. This blueprint for restored worship anticipates the ultimate temple in Christ’s body and the new creation where God dwells among His people (Revelation 21:3). In our communities, we mirror this vision by constructing spaces—both physical and relational—where dignity is honored, resources shared, and every person can encounter God. True neighbor-love builds communities where the hungry are fed, the naked clothed, and the stranger welcomed, fulfilling the heart of temple worship described by Ezekiel.
Ezekiel’s fierce denunciation of the false prophets—those who speak peace when disaster looms—reminds us to test every spirit and every word against God’s truth (Ezekiel 13:3–9). In our age of spin and soundbites, loving our neighbors means helping them discern truth from lies—whether in politics, media, or religious teaching—so that they are not led astray by comforting deceptions. Jesus warned that false prophets come in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves (Matthew 7:15), and He called us to speak truth in love, even when it means challenging prevailing narratives for the sake of justice.
Amid warnings, Ezekiel’s prayers for the land’s healing reveal a heart yearning for restoration. He intercedes, declaring the land as an inheritance given to Israel’s ancestors, not for perpetual desolation but for habitation (Ezekiel 36:28). His plea models the prayer of Nehemiah for Jerusalem’s gates and Ezra for the people’s hearts. When Paul urges the Thessalonians to pray without ceasing for all people (1 Thessalonians 5:17–18), he echoes Ezekiel’s persistent intercession. Loving our neighbors includes bringing their needs to God regularly, asking for societal healing, and trusting that prayer partners transform communities.
Ezekiel also addresses moral failings: adultery, betrayal of covenant, cruelty to orphans and widows. He depicts Israel as an unfaithful wife taken into prostitution by foreign gods (Ezekiel 16). Yet even in these harsh images, we see God’s love: His anger is inflamed by covenant-breaking, but His ultimate aim is to cleanse, forgive, and restore fidelity. In Hosea we see a parallel of God’s relentless love for an unfaithful people. Jesus’ words to the woman caught in adultery—“Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more” (John 8:11)—embody this blend of truth and mercy. Loving our neighbors means confronting sin with compassion, offering forgiveness, and helping them return to life-giving paths.
Ezekiel’s message to the nations shows God’s concern beyond Israel’s borders. He prophesies judgment on Tyre, Egypt, Ammon, and others, not out of petty nationalism, but because cruelty and idolatry harm entire regions (Ezekiel 25–32). Yet even here, glimpses of mercy appear—a future restoration for Egypt, for example (Ezekiel 29:13–14). This global vision finds fulfillment in the Great Commission: Jesus sends us to make disciples of all nations (Matthew 28:19). Loving our neighbors means extending our concern to strangers far from home—advocating against human trafficking, supporting refugees, and caring for the earth that sustains all peoples.
In the closing chapters, Ezekiel gathers Israel’s scattered bones and weeps over them, prophesying their return (Ezekiel 37:11–14). This image of God bringing life to what was dead parallels Jesus’ raising of Lazarus (John 11:43–44) and His promise to call us forth from the grave at His return. As neighbors, we stand by those entombed in grief, addiction, or poverty, speaking words of hope, inviting them to stand, and helping them walk in newness of life. The Spirit who raises the dead dwells among us, empowering us to share resurrection hope through acts of kindness and justice.
Through all of Ezekiel’s visions—of judgment, restoration, and divine glory—one theme resonates: God calls us to personal responsibility. “If a righteous person turns from his righteousness and does injustice…he shall die for it,” and likewise, a wicked person who repents shall live (Ezekiel 18:24–27). This principle teaches us that loving our neighbors begins with examining our own lives: confessing our sins, seeking forgiveness, and committing to do good. When Paul writes, “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:21), he echoes Ezekiel’s call to choose life and love our neighbors through righteous action.
In conclusion, the book of Ezekiel stands as a testament to God’s justice and mercy, a call to prophetic courage and tender compassion. From the riverbank visions to the valley of dry bones, from the denunciations of corrupt shepherds to the promise of a new heart, Ezekiel’s words shape us into communities that speak truth, seek restoration, and embody divine presence. As we love our neighbors—feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger, healing the broken—we participate in Ezekiel’s great drama of exile and return, judgment and hope, until the day when we dwell together in the fullness of God’s renewed creation.