Ezekiel 11:22-25

The Terrible Departure and the Patient Prophet Text: Ezekiel 11:22-25

Introduction: When God Packs His Bags

We live in a sentimental age. We like to imagine God as a sort of cosmic grandfather, endlessly indulgent, who would never, ever leave. Our therapeutic culture has domesticated the Almighty, putting Him on a leash, assuming His presence is a constitutional right. We have convinced ourselves that so long as the steeple is standing and the order of service is printed, God is obligated to remain in the building. We may ignore His law, redefine His ordinances, and corrupt His worship, but we assume He will just put up with it. We treat His presence as a cheap commodity.

But the God of Scripture is a consuming fire, and He will not be trifled with. He is a husband who will not tolerate perpetual adultery from His bride. There comes a point when, after countless warnings, after sending prophet after prophet, after pleading and striving, He finally gets up and leaves. And this is the most terrifying judgment of all. It is not the fire and brimstone that is the ultimate horror, but the silence. It is the profound and awful absence of God. When God packs His bags, it is because the wrecking crew is on its way.

This is what Ezekiel is witnessing in our text. This is not a quiet, dignified exit. This is the slow, deliberate, and awful departure of the glory of Yahweh from His own house, from His own city. For chapters, Ezekiel has been shown the grotesque idolatries being committed in the very courts of the Temple. The leaders of Israel were running a syncretistic, pagan theme park in the one place on earth God had set apart for His name. And so, God shows Ezekiel, step by agonizing step, that He is leaving. The glory lifts from the mercy seat, moves to the threshold of the temple, and now, in our passage, it departs from the city altogether. This is the final eviction notice before the Babylonians arrive to demolish the building.

We must understand this. God's presence is not an entitlement. It is a gift, and it is a conditional gift. When a people who are called by His name decide they prefer their idols, their sexual perversions, and their political machinations to the Holy One of Israel, He will eventually give them what they want. He will leave them to their idols, and to the consequences that always ride in their luggage. This passage is a grim warning, not just for ancient Jerusalem, but for any church, any nation, any family that thinks it can have the blessings of God without God Himself.


The Text

Then the cherubim lifted up their wings with the wheels beside them, and the glory of the God of Israel hovered over them.
The glory of Yahweh went up from the midst of the city and stood over the mountain which is east of the city.
Now the Spirit lifted me up and brought me in a vision by the Spirit of God to the exiles in Chaldea. So the vision that I had seen went up and away from me.
Then I told the exiles all the things that Yahweh had shown me.
(Ezekiel 11:22-25 LSB)

The Sovereign Throne-Chariot (v. 22)

We begin with the mechanics of this divine departure.

"Then the cherubim lifted up their wings with the wheels beside them, and the glory of the God of Israel hovered over them." (Ezekiel 11:22)

This is not some ethereal, misty apparition. Ezekiel is seeing the very throne-chariot of God. He described it in detail back in chapter 1. The cherubim are the mighty, living creatures who attend the throne of God. The wheels, you recall, are the wheels within wheels, full of eyes, capable of moving in any direction without turning. This is not a clunky, limited vehicle. This is a picture of God's absolute sovereignty and His radical mobility. He is not bolted to the floor of the Temple in Jerusalem. He is not a localized, tribal deity. He is the God of heaven and earth, and His throne can go anywhere, instantly.

This is a direct polemic against the pagan assumption that a god was tied to a particular place or a particular temple. The Philistines thought they had captured Israel's God when they took the Ark. They were wrong. The Israelites had fallen into a similar error, treating the Temple as a magical talisman. They thought, "The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord are these," and that as long as they had the building, they were safe (Jer. 7:4). But God is not contained in buildings made with hands. The cherubim lift their wings, the wheels are ready, because God's presence is not a prisoner to corrupted worship.

And above this incredible vehicle, the glory of the God of Israel hovered. This is the Shekinah, the visible manifestation of God's holy presence. It is this glory that is preparing to leave. The lifting of the wings is a sign of imminent departure. The engines are running. The pilot is in His seat. The final call for boarding has long passed, and the gate is now closed. This is a moment of high tension and profound sadness. The glory of Israel is leaving Israel.


The Staging Ground for Judgment (v. 23)

The next verse tells us where the glory went, and the location is pregnant with theological significance.

"The glory of Yahweh went up from the midst of the city and stood over the mountain which is east of the city." (Ezekiel 11:23)

The glory departs from the city center, from its very heart, and moves to the mountain east of the city. This is the Mount of Olives. This is not just a geographical note. In Scripture, geography is theology. The Mount of Olives was a place of observation. From there, one has a commanding view of the Temple Mount and the entire city of Jerusalem. God is not just leaving; He is taking up a position from which to watch the judgment He is about to unleash.

He is now an outsider to His own city. He has been driven out by their sin. And from this new vantage point, He will direct the armies of Babylon as His instrument of wrath. It is a terrible thing to have God as your near-dweller and to profane His name. It is a far more terrible thing to have Him as your opposing general, directing fire on your city from the overlooking hills.

But the Mount of Olives is not only a place of judgment. It is also a place of redemption. Hundreds of years later, another glory would stand on that same mountain. The Lord Jesus Christ, the very brightness of God's glory and the express image of His person (Heb. 1:3), would descend that mountain on a donkey to present Himself to Jerusalem as her king. And after His rejection, death, and resurrection, where did He go? He led His disciples out as far as Bethany, on the Mount of Olives, and from there He ascended into heaven (Luke 24:50-51). The visible glory departed from the Mount of Olives in judgment in Ezekiel's day, and the incarnate glory departed from that same mountain in triumph in the apostles' day, promising to return in like manner (Acts 1:11-12). The very place from which the glory left is the place to which it will return. Judgment is never God's final word for His people.


The Prophet's Commute (v. 24)

After this climactic moment, the nature of Ezekiel's experience is clarified.

"Now the Spirit lifted me up and brought me in a vision by the Spirit of God to the exiles in Chaldea. So the vision that I had seen went up and away from me." (Ezekiel 11:24)

Ezekiel had not been physically transported to Jerusalem. This entire ordeal, from chapter 8 onward, was a vision. The Spirit of God had taken him, in his spirit, to see the abominations in the Temple and to witness the departure of the glory. Now, that same Spirit brings him back. His spiritual commute is over. The vision "went up and away from me." The screen goes dark.

This emphasizes the supernatural nature of prophetic revelation. God does not need to fly His prophets around on airplanes for them to see what is happening. The Spirit can grant access to realities that are otherwise hidden. Ezekiel is in exile in Babylon, hundreds of miles away, but he has a clearer view of the spiritual state of Jerusalem than the high priest who was actually standing there. This is because spiritual sight is a gift of the Spirit, not a matter of physical proximity.

The vision concludes, and Ezekiel is left with the after-image burned into his mind. He has seen the unseeable. He has witnessed the final, terrible verdict against his own people. The glory is gone. And now he has a job to do.


The Prophet's Burden (v. 25)

The passage concludes with the prophet's solemn responsibility.

"Then I told the exiles all the things that Yahweh had shown me." (Ezekiel 11:25)

Ezekiel is a prophet to the exiles. These are the people who had already been deported to Babylon. Many of them were likely clinging to the false hope peddled by charlatan prophets that their exile would be short, that God would never abandon His holy city, and that they would all be home soon. They were living in a fantasy world, and Ezekiel's job is to smash that fantasy with the hard granite of divine revelation.

Imagine the burden. He has to go to his fellow countrymen, who are already suffering, and tell them, "It's over. I have seen it. God has left the Temple. The city is doomed." This is not a message designed to win friends and influence people. This is the hard, bitter truth. The prophet is not a motivational speaker. He is a truth-teller. His job is not to make people feel good; his job is to tell them what God has said, whether they want to hear it or not.

And in this, Ezekiel is a type of every faithful minister of the Word. We are given visions, not in the same ecstatic way, but through the settled revelation of Scripture. We see the reality of God's holiness, the certainty of His judgment against sin, and the glory of His grace in Christ. And our task is the same as Ezekiel's: "Then I told them all the things that Yahweh had shown me." We are to declare the whole counsel of God. We must warn men and women that God will not inhabit a heart, or a church, or a nation that is filled with idols. He will depart. And that departure is the prelude to destruction.


Conclusion: The Glory Has a Name

This is a grim and terrifying scene. The departure of God's glory is the ultimate judgment. When God leaves, all that is left is the shell. The light is gone, and only darkness remains. This is what happened to Jerusalem. And it is what happens to every soul that persists in rebellion against God. The Spirit strives with a man, but He will not strive forever (Gen. 6:3). There comes a point when God gives them over to their debased minds, and He departs.

But thank God, the story does not end here. As we noted, the place of departure, the Mount of Olives, is also the place of ascension and promised return. The glory of God did not abandon His people forever. In the fullness of time, the glory of God returned, not to a building of stone, but in human flesh. "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth" (John 1:14).

The glory has a name, and it is Jesus. The reason the glory left the first temple was because of sin. The reason the glory can now inhabit us, the new temple, is because Jesus dealt with that sin on the cross. He absorbed the judgment that Jerusalem faced. He is the true temple, and because of His death and resurrection, God does not depart from His people anymore. He has given us His Spirit as a permanent down payment, a guarantee that He will never leave us nor forsake us (Eph. 1:14; Heb. 13:5).

The warning of Ezekiel still stands. Do not trifle with the presence of God. Do not imagine you can entertain idols in the secret chambers of your heart and still enjoy fellowship with Him. Repent of your sin and cling to the one who is the glory of God. For in Jesus Christ, the glory has not departed. In Him, the glory has moved in for good.