The Muzzled Prophet and the Sovereign Word Text: Ezekiel 3:22-27
Introduction: A Ministry of Divine Restraint
We live in an age of frantic ministerial activity. The modern evangelical church is obsessed with metrics, with outreach strategies, with platform building, and with making sure the prophet has a podcast, a blog, a Twitter feed, and a robust marketing plan. The assumption is that if a man has a word from God, his primary task is to shout it from the rooftops, and to do so as cleverly and as widely as possible. Silence is seen as failure. Obscurity is a sign of unfaithfulness. A small hearing is evidence of a small God.
Into this buzzing, self-important marketplace of religious noise, the prophet Ezekiel is thrown like a bucket of cold water. God commissions His man, fills him with His Spirit, and then gives him his first major assignments: go get flattened by My glory, then go home, shut the door, and be quiet. He is to be a prophet in lockdown. He is to be a spokesman who is rendered mute. This is a type of ministry that would get a man fired from the modern church growth conference before the first coffee break.
But we must understand that God is not just sovereign over the prophet's speech; He is sovereign over his silence. He is not just the Lord of the sermon, but also the Lord of the season when no sermon is given. What we see here in this strange commissioning is a profound lesson on the nature of God's word, the nature of a rebellious people, and the nature of true prophetic ministry. The most powerful message God can sometimes send to a people who refuse to listen is the terrible sound of His silence. It is a judgment of deafness delivered to a people who have made themselves deaf. This passage teaches us that God's primary concern is not our communication strategy, but His own glory and His absolute sovereignty over the message, the messenger, and the audience.
The Text
And the hand of Yahweh was on me there, and He said to me, “Get up, go out to the plain, and there I will speak to you.” So I got up and went out to the plain; and behold, the glory of Yahweh was standing there, like the glory which I saw by the river Chebar, and I fell on my face. The Spirit then entered me and caused me to stand on my feet, and He spoke with me and said to me, “Go, shut yourself up in your house. Now as for you, son of man, they will put ropes on you and bind you with them so that you cannot go out among them. Moreover, I will make your tongue cling to the roof of your mouth so that you will be mute and cannot be a man who reproves them, for they are a rebellious house. But when I speak to you, I will open your mouth, and you will say to them, ‘Thus says Lord Yahweh.’ He who hears, let him hear; and he who refuses, let him refuse; for they are a rebellious house.
(Ezekiel 3:22-27 LSB)
Crushed and Commissioned (v. 22-24a)
The commissioning of the prophet continues with another encounter with the raw, unshielded reality of God.
"And the hand of Yahweh was on me there, and He said to me, 'Get up, go out to the plain, and there I will speak to you.' So I got up and went out to the plain; and behold, the glory of Yahweh was standing there, like the glory which I saw by the river Chebar, and I fell on my face." (Ezekiel 3:22-23)
The "hand of Yahweh" is not a gentle invitation. It is the language of divine compulsion. It is irresistible power. God is moving His man into position. And the purpose is a private audience on the plain, away from the distractions of the exiles. But this is no mere strategy session. God brings Ezekiel out to show him again who is in charge. There, on the plain, stands the "glory of Yahweh." This is the same terrifying, wheel-within-a-wheel, lightning-and-fire majesty that he saw before. And Ezekiel's reaction is the only sane one possible for a sinful man in the presence of unmitigated holiness: "I fell on my face."
We must get this straight. The beginning of all true ministry is to be undone. It is to be flattened. It is to have all your pretensions, all your self-confidence, all your bright ideas about what God ought to do, smashed to pieces under the weight of His glory. The man who has not fallen on his face before God has no business standing up in a pulpit before men. Modern worship is often an attempt to experience the glory of God without the falling-on-your-face part. We want the inspiration without the terror, the encouragement without the utter humiliation. But God does not deal in such trifles. He reveals Himself for who He is, and we respond for who we are: dust and ashes.
But God does not leave His servants in the dust. The same power that prostrates is the power that raises.
"The Spirit then entered me and caused me to stand on my feet, and He spoke with me..." (Ezekiel 3:24a)
This is the pattern of grace. God knocks us down in repentance only to raise us up in His power for His service. It is the Spirit who enters the flattened prophet and stands him on his feet. Ezekiel does not pull himself up by his own bootstraps. He is divinely enabled. This is a picture of regeneration. We are dead in our sins, face down in the dirt, until the Spirit of God enters us and gives us life, standing us up to hear the word of the Lord. All true service flows from this divine initiative. First prostration, then animation.
A Ministry of Confinement and Silence (v. 24b-26)
Now that Ezekiel is on his feet, empowered by the Spirit and ready for his marching orders, God gives him a shocking first command.
"...Go, shut yourself up in your house. Now as for you, son of man, they will put ropes on you and bind you with them so that you cannot go out among them." (Ezekiel 3:24b-25)
The first act of this Spirit-filled prophet is not a crusade, but a quarantine. He is to be a shut-in. His ministry is to be one of confinement. Furthermore, he is told that the people he is sent to will actively restrain him. They will bind him with ropes. This is not just a prediction of persecution; it is a sign-act. Ezekiel's physical bondage is a picture of the people's spiritual bondage. He is a living parable of their condition, trapped and unable to move freely. They bind the messenger because they are bound by their sin.
But the restraint is not just external. God imposes an internal restraint that is even more profound.
"Moreover, I will make your tongue cling to the roof of your mouth so that you will be mute and cannot be a man who reproves them, for they are a rebellious house." (Ezekiel 3:26)
This is a staggering statement. God Himself will muzzle His own prophet. Why? Because the people are a "rebellious house." They have refused to hear, so God, in a terrible judgment, removes the word of reproof from them. It is an act of divine abandonment. When a people grows so calloused that the preaching of the law and the call to repentance are met only with sneers, one of the most severe judgments God can enact is to say, "Fine. You don't want to hear it? You will not hear it." He withdraws the salt, and the corruption accelerates. A silent prophet is a sign of a deaf people under a holy curse.
This is the polar opposite of our modern pragmatism. We think that if people are not listening, we must change the message, make it more palatable, more entertaining, more relevant. God's method is often to double down on the offense, and when that is rejected, to withdraw the message altogether. The silence of God is far more terrifying than His thunder.
The Sovereign Word and the Great Divide (v. 27)
This divinely imposed silence is not permanent. It, like the speech that will follow, is entirely at God's discretion. God holds the remote control.
"But when I speak to you, I will open your mouth, and you will say to them, ‘Thus says Lord Yahweh.’" (Ezekiel 3:27a)
Notice the absolute sovereignty here. "When I speak... I will open." The timing is God's. The ability is God's. The message is God's. Ezekiel is a pure instrument. His job is not to generate content, but to relay the message verbatim: "Thus says Lord Yahweh." This is the foundation of all true preaching. It is not "Here are my thoughts," or "Let's explore some options," but rather, "This is the Word of the Lord." The authority is not in the messenger, but in the one who sent him.
And what is the result of this divinely initiated, divinely worded message? It is a great sifting. It is a division of mankind into two, and only two, categories.
"He who hears, let him hear; and he who refuses, let him refuse; for they are a rebellious house." (Ezekiel 3:27b)
The Word of God never returns void. It always accomplishes its purpose. But that purpose is twofold. To the elect, to those whose ears God has opened, it is a word of life. They hear, and they live. "He who hears, let him hear." This is the language of effectual calling. But to the reprobate, to the rebellious house whose hearts are hard, that same word is a word of judgment. It hardens them in their refusal. "He who refuses, let him refuse." The sun that melts the wax also hardens the clay. The gospel is a savor of life unto life for some, and a savor of death unto death for others (2 Cor. 2:16). The prophet's job is not to guarantee results, but to be faithful with the message. The results are in God's hands. The final clause explains it all: "for they are a rebellious house." Their nature determines their response.
Conclusion: The Bound and Risen Word
This entire strange episode is a deep prefigurement of the ministry of the Lord Jesus Christ. He was the ultimate prophet, the very Word made flesh. He came to His own, and His own received Him not. He, too, was bound with ropes by a rebellious house. He, too, was a man of sorrows who shut Himself away to pray. Before His accusers, He was often silent, like a sheep before its shearers is dumb, so He opened not His mouth (Is. 53:7). This was a judgment on the hard hearts of Caiaphas, Herod, and Pilate. They were a rebellious house, and so they were met with the terrible silence of the Son of God.
But when God determined to speak, nothing could stop Him. They shut that Word up in a tomb, but on the third day, God opened His mouth again in the glorious proclamation of the resurrection. And that resurrected Word is now preached to all the nations. It is still "Thus says Lord Yahweh."
And it still does the same work. It divides the world. To those who hear, it is the power of God unto salvation. To those who refuse, it is a stumbling block and foolishness. Our task as the church is the same as Ezekiel's. We are not called to be clever marketers or popular influencers. We are called to be faithful instruments. We are to speak when God gives us the word, and to trust Him with the results. We must declare "Thus says the Lord," and then let the chips fall where they may. For some will hear, and some will refuse, because at the end of the day, God is sovereign, and man, in his natural state, is still a rebellious house.