Commentary - Ezekiel 23:11-21

Bird's-eye view

In this passage, the prophet Ezekiel, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, continues his graphic allegory of the two sisters, Oholah and Oholibah. These two represent the kingdoms of Israel (Samaria) and Judah (Jerusalem). Having already detailed the flagrant spiritual harlotry of the northern kingdom, Oholah, and God's subsequent judgment upon her, the focus now shifts to the younger sister, Oholibah. The central point is a damning one: Judah saw the wretched end of her sister's idolatrous affairs and, rather than learning from it, plunged into even greater depths of corruption. This is not just a history lesson about ancient political alliances; it is a raw depiction of covenant unfaithfulness. God uses the most visceral language of sexual depravity to make us understand how He views our own flirtations with the world. The passage traces Judah's lustful downward spiral, from the Assyrians to the Babylonians, and then back again in memory to the corruptions of her youth in Egypt. It is a story of escalating sin, the hollowness of worldly allure, and the inevitable disgust that follows when God's bride chases after other lovers.

The core message is that sin is a progression, and knowledge of consequences does not, in itself, deter a corrupt heart. Oholibah saw what happened to Oholah, and it did not matter. Her lust was greater than her fear. This is a profound statement on the nature of total depravity. The passage culminates in God's own soul turning in disgust from His covenant people, a terrifying reality that precedes His active judgment. This is a hard word, but a necessary one. It forces us to confront the ugliness of our own sin and drives us to the only one who can cleanse such defilement, the Lord Jesus Christ, the faithful husband to an often-unfaithful bride, the Church.


Outline


Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 11 “Now her sister Oholibah saw this, yet she was more corrupt in her lust than she, and her harlotries were more than the harlotries of her sister.”

The verse begins with a stark declaration of accountability. Oholibah, who is Jerusalem, was not ignorant. She "saw this." She had a front row seat to the entire sordid affair of her sister Samaria, including the devastating consequences. She saw the Assyrians, whom Samaria had courted, become the very instrument of her destruction. This is the principle of greater light. To whom much is given, much is required. Judah had the benefit of the Temple, the Davidic line, and the historical object lesson of Israel's apostasy and exile. But what did she do with this knowledge? She used it as a baseline to exceed. Her corruption was not just a repeat performance; it was an escalation. Her lust was "more corrupt," and her harlotries were "more than" her sister's. This is how sin works. It is never static. When a heart is set on rebellion, it treats the warnings of God as a challenge, not as a deterrent. Judah's sin was compounded by her high-handed defiance in the face of clear and present warning.

v. 12 “She lusted after the Assyrians, governors and officials, the ones near, magnificently dressed, horsemen riding on horses, all of them desirable choice men.”

Here we see the nature of the temptation. It is a lust for what the world offers, and it is entirely superficial. She lusted after the Assyrians. Notice the description: they are powerful ("governors and officials"), impressive ("magnificently dressed"), skilled in warfare ("horsemen riding on horses"), and aesthetically pleasing ("desirable choice men"). This is the lust of the eyes and the pride of life in full display. Judah was not seeking spiritual reality or covenant faithfulness with Yahweh. She was dazzled by the pomp and circumstance of a pagan empire. She wanted to align herself with what looked strong, successful, and sexy. This is the perennial temptation for the church: to be impressed with the world's metrics of success, to seek alliances with worldly power structures, and to adopt their methods and dress, all because they look so impressive. But this is spiritual adultery. It is turning from the unseen glory of our true Husband to the cheap glitter of a worldly suitor.

v. 13 “And I saw that she had defiled herself; they both took the same way.”

God is the observer here. "And I saw." Nothing is hidden from His eyes. He saw the defilement, the spiritual stain that resulted from this lustful pursuit. And His conclusion is blunt: "they both took the same way." Despite all of Judah's advantages, all her religious formalism, all her claims to be the true people of God, she was walking down the exact same path that led to her sister's ruin. This is a crucial point. We can have all the right doctrines on paper, all the right liturgical forms, and still be on the broad road to destruction because our hearts are running after the world. External religious observance is no protection against internal corruption. God sees the path we are on, not just the sign we have posted out front.

v. 14 “So she increased her harlotries. And she saw men portrayed on the wall, images of the Chaldeans portrayed with vermilion,”

Sin is insatiable. Having defiled herself with Assyria, she did not repent. She "increased her harlotries." The affair with Assyria soured, as all such affairs do, and so she looked for a new lover. Her eyes fell upon images of the Chaldeans, the rising power of Babylon. The temptation here is mediated through art, through propaganda. She saw "men portrayed on the wall." These were likely frescoes or carvings depicting the military might and regal splendor of the Babylonians, painted in a vibrant red ("vermilion"). This is how seduction often begins, with an image, an idea, a fantasy. The world markets itself very effectively. It puts its most impressive images on the wall for us to see, whether on a literal wall in antiquity or on the glowing screens of our modern world. The goal is to capture the imagination and incite lust.

v. 15 “girded with belts on their loins, with flowing turbans on their heads, all of them looking like officers, in the likeness of the Babylonians in Chaldea, the land of their birth.”

The description continues to focus on the external trappings of power and authority. The belts, the turbans, the appearance of being "officers", it all speaks to a well-ordered, disciplined, and powerful force. This is what Judah craved. She looked at her own precarious situation, surrounded by enemies, and instead of trusting in the Lord of Hosts, she was infatuated with the apparent strength of Babylon. She wanted a political savior, a military alliance that could guarantee her security. She was looking for salvation in the arm of flesh, and a particularly well-dressed and intimidating arm of flesh at that. She was drawn to the "likeness" of strength, not the substance of it, which is found in God alone.

v. 16 “And she saw them and lusted after them and sent messengers to them in Chaldea.”

The progression is swift and decisive. Seeing leads to lusting, and lusting leads to action. "She saw...she lusted...she sent." This is the classic pattern of sin laid out in the book of James. A desire is conceived, it gives birth to sin, and sin, when it is fully grown, brings forth death. Judah did not just harbor a secret crush. She acted on it. She initiated the contact, sending messengers to Babylon to propose an alliance, to invite them into a covenant relationship. This was a direct betrayal of her covenant with Yahweh, her true husband and king.

v. 17 “So the Babylonians came to her to the bed of love and defiled her with their harlotry. Then she became defiled by them, and her soul became disgusted with them.”

The invitation was accepted. The Babylonians came to the "bed of love," a bitterly ironic phrase for what was a loveless political and spiritual transaction. And the result was exactly what sin always produces: defilement. She got what she wanted, and it polluted her. But notice the immediate aftermath. After the act, after the defilement, her infatuation turned to revulsion. "Her soul became disgusted with them." This is the hangover of sin. The thrill is always temporary, but the filth is real and lasting. The thing that is lusted after becomes the thing that is loathed. The world promises satisfaction but delivers only shame and self-hatred. The lovers that God's people pursue will always turn on them, or they will become disgusting to them. There is no lasting pleasure in adultery.

v. 18 “And she uncovered her harlotries and uncovered her nakedness; then My soul became disgusted with her, as My soul had become disgusted with her sister.”

Her sin was not private. She became brazen in her rebellion, uncovering her own nakedness, flaunting her infidelity. She was no longer ashamed of her alliances with pagan nations; she was proud of them. And this open, high-handed rebellion provoked a response from God. "Then My soul became disgusted with her." This is one of the most terrifying phrases in Scripture. It is the language of covenantal alienation. The husband is repulsed by the adulterous wife. God, who is love, is also holy, and His holiness means He has a holy aversion to sin. Her flaunted sin made Him sick. He draws the parallel directly to her sister, Samaria. The same sin produces the same divine reaction. God is no respecter of persons or nations. Covenant privilege does not give you a license to sin; it makes your sin all the more heinous.

v. 19 “Yet she multiplied her harlotries, remembering the days of her youth, when she played the harlot in the land of Egypt.”

One would think that God's disgust would lead to repentance. But in a hardened heart, it leads to the opposite. "Yet she multiplied her harlotries." Instead of turning back, she doubled down. When the affair with Babylon soured and she felt the disgust of God upon her, where did she turn? She turned to nostalgia for her first love, which was the idolatry of Egypt. She started "remembering the days of her youth." This is a perverse trip down memory lane. She is not remembering God's deliverance from Egypt, but rather the paganism she was enmeshed in while there. This shows the deep-seated nature of her corruption. Her default setting, from her youth, was idolatry. When new sins become old and tiresome, the depraved heart often returns to the old sins, romanticizing them.

v. 20 “She lusted after their paramours, whose flesh is like the flesh of donkeys and whose issue is like the issue of horses.”

Ezekiel does not hold back. The language here is intentionally coarse and shocking. It is meant to be. He describes her lust for the Egyptians in the most degrading, animalistic terms. She was not attracted to anything noble or worthy, but to raw, brutish sensuality, symbolized by the exaggerated virility of donkeys and horses. This is what idolatry reduces us to. It is a de-humanizing force. When we turn from worshiping the transcendent God who made us in His image, we inevitably begin to worship the creature rather than the Creator, and in doing so, we become like the things we worship. Her spiritual lust is portrayed as a base, animalistic craving. This is God's assessment of what we think of as sophisticated political maneuvering or cultural engagement on the world's terms. He sees it as a grotesque and brutish degradation.

v. 21 “Thus you longed for the lewdness of your youth, when the Egyptians handled your bosom because of the breasts of your youth.”

The chapter section concludes by summarizing this perverse longing. Judah desired to return to the "lewdness of your youth." The imagery is of a woman reminiscing about her first illicit sexual encounters. This is where her heart was. The foundation of the nation's life, which should have been the covenant grace of the Exodus, was being replaced by a fond memory of the idolatrous defilement that happened in Egypt. This is a complete inversion of what their national memory should have been. It is a picture of a heart so thoroughly corrupted that it calls evil good and good evil, remembering bondage as a time of thrilling sin. It is a stark reminder that without the regenerating grace of God, our hearts will always long for the lewdness of our youth, for the mud we were pulled from, rather than for the glory of the one who cleansed us.