Covenant Lines and Holy Ambiguity Text: Ezra 2:59-63
Introduction: The Messiness of Reformation
When God begins a work of reformation, our modern evangelical sensibilities often expect it to be neat and tidy. We want the lines to be clean, the records pristine, and the results immediate. We want a spreadsheet faith. But the history of God's people is never that simple. The return from exile under Zerubbabel was a glorious act of God's covenant faithfulness, a resurrection of a nation from the grave of Babylon. But when the people come back to the land, they don't just bring their tools and their children; they bring all the messiness and complication that seventy years of displacement can create. Records get lost. Lineages become blurred. Identities are questioned.
This is not a bug; it is a feature. God works out His glorious purposes in the midst of our historical untidiness. The books of Ezra and Nehemiah are a manual for reformation, and one of the first lessons is that reformation requires dealing with hard cases. It requires sifting, sorting, and making judgments based on the Word of God, even when the available information is incomplete. Our temptation is to either throw up our hands in the face of ambiguity and let everyone in, or to become so rigid that we exclude genuine believers because their paperwork isn't in order. The world loves these two options: sentimental inclusivity or Pharisaical exclusivity.
But God's way is different. He establishes clear standards, demands that they be taken with the utmost seriousness, and yet provides a way to handle the exceptions, the hard cases, and the uncertainties. This passage is not some dusty genealogical footnote. It is a crucial lesson in how the people of God are to maintain holiness and order while waiting for a definitive word from on high. It teaches us about the gravity of the priesthood, the importance of lineage in the Old Covenant, and the ultimate solution to all our genealogical problems, who is the Lord Jesus Christ.
We live in an age that despises distinctions. Our culture wants to erase every line God has drawn, whether it be in creation or in redemption. But here, in the rubble of Jerusalem, we see a community that understands that their very existence depends on honoring the lines God has drawn. And in their careful, sober handling of a difficult situation, they provide a model for us as we seek to be faithful in our own day.
The Text
Now these are those who came up from Tel-melah, Tel-harsha, Cherub, Addan, and Immer, but they were not able to declare their fathers’ households and their fathers’ seed, whether they were of Israel: the sons of Delaiah, the sons of Tobiah, the sons of Nekoda, 652. Of the sons of the priests: the sons of Hobaiah, the sons of Hakkoz, the sons of Barzillai, who took a wife from the daughters of Barzillai the Gileadite, and he was called by their name. These searched in their genealogical records, but they could not be found; therefore they were considered unclean and excluded from the priesthood. The governor said to them that they should not eat from the most holy things until a priest stood with Urim and Thummim.
(Ezra 2:59-63 LSB)
The Unproven People (v. 59-60)
We begin with a group of people whose ethnic identity is in question.
"Now these are those who came up from Tel-melah, Tel-harsha, Cherub, Addan, and Immer, but they were not able to declare their fathers’ households and their fathers’ seed, whether they were of Israel: the sons of Delaiah, the sons of Tobiah, the sons of Nekoda, 652." (Ezra 2:59-60)
Here we have a number of families, 652 people in all, who have returned with the exiles from various Babylonian towns. They have thrown their lot in with the people of God. They have made the arduous journey. They clearly want to be identified as Israelites. But there is a problem: they cannot prove it. Their records are lost. They "were not able to declare their fathers' households and their fathers' seed."
In the Old Covenant, genealogy was not a matter of antiquarian curiosity. It was central to covenant identity. It determined your tribal allotment, your inheritance in the land, and your place in the life of Israel. To be an Israelite was to be a physical descendant of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The lines were important because God was telling a long story in one particular bloodline, the story that would culminate in the Messiah.
Notice what happens here. These people are not immediately cast out. Their desire to be numbered with Israel is taken seriously. They are included in the general census, but with an asterisk. They are in a state of holy ambiguity. They are allowed to be part of the broader community, but their specific claims are held in suspense. This is a picture of pastoral wisdom. You don't create new laws to accommodate hard cases, but you also don't crush people who are earnestly seeking to belong to the people of God. You acknowledge the situation for what it is: unresolved.
This is a direct challenge to our sentimental age. We are told that to question anyone's self-identification is the highest form of bigotry. But here, the leaders of the restoration understand that objective standards matter. At the same time, they don't lack compassion. They list these people, acknowledging their presence and their desire. They are in the assembly, but not yet fully enfranchised until their status can be clarified.
The Unproven Priests (v. 61-62)
The problem intensifies when we come to the priests. The standard here is necessarily higher.
"Of the sons of the priests: the sons of Hobaiah, the sons of Hakkoz, the sons of Barzillai, who took a wife from the daughters of Barzillai the Gileadite, and he was called by their name. These searched in their genealogical records, but they could not be found; therefore they were considered unclean and excluded from the priesthood." (Ezra 2:61-62 LSB)
Here are three priestly families who have the same problem as the laypeople before, but with far greater consequences. They claim to be priests, descendants of Aaron, but they cannot find their records. The priesthood was the central institution of Israel's worship. The priests were the mediators who stood between a holy God and a sinful people. They offered the sacrifices. They guarded the sanctuary. For this reason, the requirements for the priesthood were exceedingly strict. You could not simply feel a calling to be a priest. You had to be from the right tribe, Levi, and the right family, Aaron. Your lineage had to be impeccable.
One family is singled out: the sons of Barzillai. Their ancestor had married into the famous and wealthy family of Barzillai the Gileadite, the man who had aided King David during Absalom's rebellion. It seems this priest was so proud of his connection to this noble family that he took their name. In doing so, it appears he neglected the records of his own priestly line. He traded his sacred, God-given identity for a bit of worldly prestige. And now, generations later, his descendants pay the price. Their connection to the priesthood is lost, obscured by a forefather's vanity.
The result is severe and uncompromising. "They were considered unclean and excluded from the priesthood." The Hebrew word here for "unclean" is a strong one, often used for being polluted or defiled. It doesn't mean they were morally wicked, but that they were ceremonially disqualified. They could not serve at the altar. They could not enter the holy place. The standard was upheld, even though it was personally tragic for these men. Why? Because the holiness of God's worship is more important than the aspirations of any individual. The integrity of the sacrificial system, which pointed to Christ, had to be protected from all corruption or doubt.
The Authoritative Patience (v. 63)
So what is to be done? The situation seems to be at an impasse. This is where the governor, the Tirshatha, likely Nehemiah, steps in with a ruling that is a masterclass in godly leadership.
"The governor said to them that they should not eat from the most holy things until a priest stood with Urim and Thummim." (Ezra 2:63 LSB)
The "most holy things" refers to the portion of the sacrifices that was allotted to the priests for their sustenance. To eat this food was the sign and seal of being a functioning priest. The governor's ruling is twofold. First, the exclusion is affirmed and enforced. For now, you may not partake. The standard is not lowered. But second, the exclusion is not necessarily permanent. There is a possibility of resolution.
The resolution depends on a "priest stood with Urim and Thummim." The Urim and Thummim were objects, kept in the breastplate of the High Priest, through which God would give direct revelation and guidance on difficult matters. They were a means of divine oracle. The problem was, it is not clear that the Urim and Thummim were even functional after the exile. Many scholars believe their use had ceased centuries before. So the governor's ruling is essentially this: "We cannot solve this problem with the information we have. We must wait for a direct, supernatural word from God."
This is an astonishing act of humility and faith. He does not form a committee. He does not take a poll. He does not fudge the rules to make everyone feel included. He acknowledges the limits of his own wisdom and authority and places the matter into God's hands. He is willing to wait. This is authoritative patience. He upholds the law strictly while simultaneously pointing to a future, divine resolution. He maintains order in the present by trusting in God's future provision.
Our High Priest and True Lineage
This entire episode, with its genealogical anxieties and its waiting for a priestly word, is designed by God to make us long for the one who resolves all these tensions. This passage pushes us forward to the New Testament.
The Old Covenant priesthood was based on physical lineage, on bloodline. But it was a shadow, a placeholder. That priesthood was ultimately weak and ineffective, because it was made up of sinful men who died. The writer to the Hebrews makes this point explicitly. Jesus Christ is our great High Priest, but not according to the Levitical standard. He was from the tribe of Judah, not Levi. His qualification was not based on a written genealogy that could be lost.
His priesthood is "after the order of Melchizedek" (Hebrews 7:17). It is based on something far greater: the power of an indestructible life. His genealogical record is His resurrection from the dead. That is His proof of parentage, His declaration from the Father: "You are my Son, today I have begotten you" (Psalm 2:7).
The Urim and Thummim, that instrument of divine guidance, has also been fulfilled and surpassed. We no longer need to wait for a priest with stones in his pocket to discern God's will. We have something infinitely better. We have the Holy Spirit, sent by our High Priest after He ascended. And we have the living and abiding Word of God, the Scriptures. The Word is our Urim and the Spirit is our Thummim. God has spoken His definitive word in His Son (Hebrews 1:1-2). We are not left in holy ambiguity about the things that matter most.
And what about our lineage? Our problem is far worse than that of those 652 people in Ezra's day. They were not sure if they were Israelites. But we know for certain what we are by nature: we are sons of Adam. We are gentiles, strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world (Ephesians 2:12). Our records are not lost; they are clear, and they condemn us. We are from the wrong family entirely.
But the gospel is the glorious news that through faith in Jesus Christ, we are given a new genealogy. We are adopted. We are grafted in. God gives us a new family name. Our identity is no longer found in our earthly father's house, but in the household of God. "But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God" (John 1:12-13).
Our proof of lineage is not a dusty scroll, but the Spirit of adoption in our hearts, crying out, "Abba, Father!" We are now the true priesthood, a royal priesthood (1 Peter 2:9), and our qualification is not our bloodline, but the blood of the Lamb. And we are invited to eat from the "most holy things," not the leftovers of an animal sacrifice, but the body and blood of the Son of God, represented to us in the Lord's Supper. Here, at this table, our identity is declared, our lineage is confirmed, and our place in the family is sealed forever.