No Righteous Coattails: Calamitous Judgments of Jerusalem Text: Ezekiel 14:12-23
Introduction: The Hard Math of Corporate Guilt
We live in a sentimental age, an age that has completely lost its nerve when it comes to the justice of God. We want a God who is a celestial grandfather, endlessly indulgent, who winks at our transgressions and assures us that everything will be just fine. We have constructed a therapeutic deity in our own image, a god who would never dream of offending anyone, least of all by executing judgment. Our age is allergic to sharp, defined lines. We prefer the hazy gray of compromise, where personal responsibility dissolves into a soupy fog of societal pressures and victim narratives.
Into this squishy modern consensus, the prophet Ezekiel speaks with the force of a blacksmith's hammer on an anvil. This passage is a bracing dose of spiritual reality. It is a divine repudiation of every form of cheap grace and every attempt to hide from personal accountability in a crowd. The word of the Lord to Ezekiel here is a bucket of ice water in the face of a slumbering church and a rebellious nation. God is laying out the grim, covenantal mathematics of corporate guilt. He is explaining that there comes a point in the life of a nation, a culture, or a city, when the sin becomes so pervasive, so high-handed, and so deeply ingrained that the presence of a few righteous individuals can no longer hold back the flood of judgment.
The people in Jerusalem, and the exiles in Babylon, were clinging to a false hope. They were reasoning something like this: "Surely God won't destroy this city, the city of David, the place where His temple stands. Besides, there are still some good people here. Remember Abraham's negotiation for Sodom? God was willing to spare the city for the sake of ten righteous men. Surely there are at least ten of us!" They were attempting to ride on the coattails of their righteous ancestors, or perhaps on the reputation of a few godly contemporaries. But God sends Ezekiel to demolish that hope. He says, in effect, "The time for that kind of intercession is over. The sin has reached a terminal stage. Even if I took three of the most righteous men in the history of the world, Noah, Daniel, and Job, and planted them in your midst, their righteousness would save them and them alone."
This is a terrifying and sobering word. It establishes a principle that we must grapple with today. God deals with individuals, yes, but He also deals with nations and peoples corporately. And when a nation as a whole commits unfaithfulness, judgment is not only possible; it is inevitable. The personal righteousness of the saints in such a nation will save their own souls, but it will not necessarily save the nation from the temporal consequences of its rebellion.
The Text
Then the word of Yahweh came to me saying, "Son of man, if a country sins against Me by committing unfaithfulness, and I stretch out My hand against it, break its staff of bread, send famine against it, and cut off from it both man and beast, even though these three men, Noah, Daniel, and Job were in its midst, by their own righteousness they could only deliver themselves," declares Lord Yahweh. "If I were to cause wild beasts to pass through the land and they bereaved it of children and it became desolate so that no one would pass through it because of the beasts, though these three men were in its midst, as I live," declares Lord Yahweh, "they could not deliver either their sons or their daughters. They alone would be delivered, but the country would become desolate. Or if I should bring a sword on that country and say, 'Let the sword pass through the country and cut off man and beast from it,' even though these three men were in its midst, as I live," declares Lord Yahweh, "they could not deliver either their sons or their daughters, but they alone would be delivered. Or if I should send a plague against that country and pour out My wrath in blood on it to cut off man and beast from it, even though Noah, Daniel, and Job were in its midst, as I live," declares Lord Yahweh, "they could not deliver either their son or their daughter. They would deliver only themselves by their righteousness." For thus says Lord Yahweh, "How much more when I send My four calamitous judgments against Jerusalem: sword, famine, wild beasts, and plague to cut off man and beast from it! Yet, behold, survivors will be left in it who will be brought out, both sons and daughters. Behold, they are going to come forth to you, and you will see their way and actions; then you will be comforted for the calamity which I have brought against Jerusalem for everything which I have brought upon it. Then they will comfort you when you see their way and actions, so you will know that I have not done in vain all that I did to it," declares Lord Yahweh.
(Ezekiel 14:12-23 LSB)
The Principle of Limited Deliverance (vv. 12-14)
God begins by laying down a general principle, a hypothetical case about "a country" that sins against Him.
"Son of man, if a country sins against Me by committing unfaithfulness, and I stretch out My hand against it, break its staff of bread, send famine against it, and cut off from it both man and beast, even though these three men, Noah, Daniel, and Job were in its midst, by their own righteousness they could only deliver themselves," declares Lord Yahweh. (Ezekiel 14:12-14)
Notice the cause: the country "sins against Me by committing unfaithfulness." This is covenant language. This isn't just about individual acts of theft or lying. This is corporate apostasy. The nation as a whole has been unfaithful to its covenant Lord. The effect is God's active judgment. He stretches out His hand, an anthropomorphism for His direct, powerful intervention. The specific judgment here is famine, breaking the "staff of bread," a vivid metaphor for the basic sustenance of life. God is sovereign over the food supply.
Then comes the shocking qualifier. God summons a spiritual all-star team: Noah, Daniel, and Job. This is a fascinating trio. Noah was a righteous man who delivered his family from a worldwide judgment, but not the world itself. Job was a righteous man from outside the line of Abraham who suffered intensely but was vindicated, yet his righteousness did not protect his first set of children from calamity. Daniel was a contemporary of Ezekiel, renowned for his wisdom and righteousness even while living in pagan Babylon. These men represent righteousness that spans history, pre-law, and Gentile piety. They are the best of the best.
And what is the verdict? Even if these three paragons of virtue were in that unfaithful land, their righteousness would have no spillover effect on the nation. It is non-transferable for the purpose of averting national, temporal judgment. "They could only deliver themselves." This directly confronts the lazy presumption that God owes a nation mercy because of its godly heritage or a believing remnant. Personal righteousness guarantees personal deliverance, but it does not give the righteous a veto over God's judgment on a wicked culture.
The Escalating Judgments (vv. 15-20)
God then hammers the point home by repeating the principle with three other forms of judgment, each more intense than the last. He stacks these illustrations up like cordwood to show the utter seriousness of His resolve.
"If I were to cause wild beasts to pass through the land... though these three men were in its midst... they could not deliver either their sons or their daughters. They alone would be delivered..." (Ezekiel 14:15-16)
The second judgment is wild beasts. This is one of the classic covenant curses listed in Leviticus 26. When a land turns from God, He removes His hand of protection, and the natural order begins to turn on man. The land becomes desolate, unsafe. And here, the stakes are raised. In the first example, the righteous men deliver themselves. Here, God makes it explicit that they cannot even deliver their own children. This is a direct shot at the heart of federal, household thinking. While God's covenant promises normally extend to our children, in a time of extreme national judgment, even that blessing is not guaranteed. The principle of individual accountability becomes razor sharp.
The third and fourth judgments follow the same pattern:
"Or if I should bring a sword on that country... even though these three men were in its midst... they could not deliver either their sons or their daughters, but they alone would be delivered." (Ezekiel 14:17-18)
"Or if I should send a plague against that country... even though Noah, Daniel, and Job were in its midst... they could not deliver either their son or their daughter. They would deliver only themselves by their righteousness." (Ezekiel 14:19-20)
The sword represents war and invasion. The plague represents pestilence and disease. These four judgments, famine, beasts, sword, and plague, are God's "four calamitous judgments." They are the horsemen of the apocalypse in prototype. With each repetition, God swears an oath, "as I live," to emphasize the certainty of His decree. The refrain is relentless: righteousness is not a corporate get-out-of-jail-free card. At this stage of rebellion, salvation is personal, atomistic. The righteous are plucked from the fire, but the house still burns down.
The Direct Application to Jerusalem (v. 21)
After laying out the general principle four times, God drops the other shoe. The hypothetical becomes terrifyingly specific.
"For thus says Lord Yahweh, 'How much more when I send My four calamitous judgments against Jerusalem: sword, famine, wild beasts, and plague to cut off man and beast from it!'" (Ezekiel 14:21)
This is an argument from the lesser to the greater. If this principle applies to any generic, unfaithful country, how much more does it apply to Jerusalem? Jerusalem was not just any country. It was the covenant city, the place God had put His name. Their sin was therefore far more egregious. To whom much is given, much is required. Their unfaithfulness was not mere ignorance; it was high-handed, covenant-breaking treason. Therefore, the judgment will not be one of these calamities, but all four of them unleashed at once. God is throwing the book at them.
This verse should cause us to tremble. If we, as a nation that has been uniquely blessed with the light of the gospel, turn our backs on God, we should not expect a gentle slap on the wrist. We should expect the full weight of His covenantal displeasure.
The Comfort of Theodicy (vv. 22-23)
The passage concludes with a strange and difficult form of comfort. It is not the comfort of deliverance from judgment, but the comfort of understanding the righteousness of that judgment.
"Yet, behold, survivors will be left in it who will be brought out, both sons and daughters. Behold, they are going to come forth to you, and you will see their way and actions; then you will be comforted for the calamity... so you will know that I have not done in vain all that I did to it," declares Lord Yahweh. (Ezekiel 14:22-23)
God promises that a remnant will survive the destruction of Jerusalem. These survivors will be brought out to the exiles already in Babylon, where Ezekiel is ministering. And when the exiles see these survivors, they will be "comforted." How could this be comforting? It seems backwards. Shouldn't the sight of these traumatized refugees only compound their grief?
The comfort comes when the exiles "see their way and actions." This is the key. The exiles, who had perhaps been nursing a grievance against God, thinking His judgment was too harsh, will see firsthand the depth of the wickedness and rebellion of the people who were in Jerusalem. The survivors who come out are not the righteous remnant, but rather the evidence of the sin that caused the judgment. Their ungodly "way and actions" will be a living testimony to the fact that God was entirely just in what He did. The exiles will look at them and say, "Ah, now I understand. God was not being cruel. He was being just. The city was every bit as wicked as the prophets said it was."
This is the comfort of theodicy. It is the comfort of having God's character vindicated. It is the realization that God has not acted "in vain," without cause. For the true believer, the greatest horror is not suffering, but the thought that God might be unjust. This passage assures the faithful remnant that God's hands are clean. His judgments, however severe, are always righteous. This remnant of survivors serves as Exhibit A in God's courtroom, proving the necessity of the verdict.
No One But Christ
This passage throws us upon the mercy of God in a radical way. It strips away all our false supports. We cannot rely on our godly heritage. We cannot rely on the righteousness of our pastor or our parents. We cannot even rely on the presence of a faithful remnant in the land to save our nation from the temporal consequences of its sin. Righteousness, in this ultimate sense, is non-transferable.
There is only one man whose righteousness is transferable. There is only one man whose righteousness can save others. There is only one man whose presence in the "city" is sufficient to deliver not just himself, but His sons and His daughters. His name is Jesus Christ.
Noah, Daniel, and Job could only deliver themselves. But Jesus, the second Adam, the true Israel, delivers all who are found in Him. He is the ultimate covenant head. When God poured out His four calamitous judgments, the sword of Roman steel, the famine of the soul, the wild beast of demonic oppression, and the plague of sin, they all fell on Him at the cross. He absorbed the full, concentrated wrath of God that was due to us for our corporate and individual unfaithfulness.
And because He took the judgment, His righteousness is now imputed to us. It is transferable. "He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him" (2 Corinthians 5:21). Unlike Noah, Daniel, and Job, His righteousness is not a personal possession that saves Him alone. It is an infinite treasury, a fountain of righteousness that is credited to the account of every person who abandons all hope in their own goodness and trusts in Him.
Therefore, let us take the warning of this passage to heart. Let us not presume upon God's mercy for our nation. Let us repent of our corporate sins. But let us also flee from the coming wrath by taking refuge in the only one who can deliver more than just Himself. Let us hide ourselves in Christ, so that when the final judgment comes, we are not found standing in our own flimsy righteousness, but clothed in the perfect, transferable, and saving righteousness of the Son of God.