The Bloody Blueprint: God's Design for Worship Text: Ezekiel 40:28-43
Introduction: Blueprints for What?
We live in a pragmatic and impatient age. When we come to a passage like this one in Ezekiel, filled with cubits and pillars, gates and guardrooms, our eyes tend to glaze over. We want the quick spiritual takeaway, the inspirational nugget, the three steps to a better week. We are not, generally speaking, interested in blueprints. And so, for centuries, many Christians have treated these final chapters of Ezekiel as a kind of theological attic, a dusty room full of strange furniture that we don't quite know what to do with. Some have tried to assemble it into a literal, future temple for a millennial kingdom, a project which would require the re-institution of blood sacrifices, a flat denial of the entire book of Hebrews. Others have simply shrugged and moved on to more accessible pastures.
But the Word of God does not have an attic. Nothing is wasted, and every detail is pregnant with meaning. We must begin by asking the right question. The question is not, "When will we build this?" but rather, "What is God showing us?" Ezekiel is a prophet in exile. The temple in Jerusalem, Solomon's temple, has been reduced to rubble and ash. The people are defeated, disgraced, and deported. God's glory has departed. And into this despair, God gives Ezekiel a vision. It is a vision of a new temple, a glorious temple, a perfect temple. This is not given to tease them with what they cannot have. It is a promise. It is a picture of the true worship and the true house of God that He will one day establish.
And the key to understanding this entire section is given to us by the apostles. The New Testament identifies the Church of Jesus Christ as the temple of God (1 Cor. 3:16, Eph. 2:21). This vision in Ezekiel, therefore, is a magnificent, typological blueprint of the Church. It is a portrait of us. It describes the nature of true worship, the necessity of holiness, the centrality of the sacrifice, and the glorious reality of God dwelling with His people. These are not just architectural details; they are spiritual realities. This is the grammar of our worship. And as we shall see, at the very center of this perfectly ordered house is a place of blood and slaughter. Our God is a holy God, and His house is a house of sacrifice.
The Text
"Then he brought me to the inner court by the south gate; and he measured the south gate according to those same measurements... Its porches were toward the outer court; and palm tree ornaments were on its side pillars, and its stairway had eight steps... Then he brought me into the inner court toward the east... and its stairway had eight steps... Then he brought me to the north gate... and its stairway had eight steps... A chamber with its doorway was by the side pillars at the gates; there they rinse the burnt offering. In the porch of the gate were two tables on each side, on which to slaughter the burnt offering, the sin offering and the guilt offering... Four tables were on each side next to the gate; or, eight tables on which they slaughter sacrifices... For the burnt offering there were four tables of cut stone... on which they lay the instruments with which they slaughter the burnt offering and the sacrifice. The double hooks, one handbreadth in length, were installed in the house all around; and on the tables was the flesh of the offering."
(Ezekiel 40:28-43, selected)
Order, Ascent, and Victory (vv. 28-37)
The first part of our text details the three gates leading from the outer court into the inner court: the south gate, the east gate, and the north gate.
"Then he brought me to the inner court by the south gate; and he measured the south gate according to those same measurements... Its porches were toward the outer court; and palm tree ornaments were on its side pillars, and its stairway had eight steps." (Ezekiel 40:28, 31)
The first thing to notice is the relentless emphasis on measurement and symmetry. Everything is measured. Everything is precise. The south gate is the same as the east gate, which is the same as the north gate. This is not tedious repetition. This is theology. God is not a God of confusion, but of order (1 Cor. 14:33). Our worship is not to be a sloppy, sentimental, make-it-up-as-you-go affair. It has a structure, a divinely appointed grammar. The modern evangelical impulse to prize spontaneity over form, emotion over order, is a rebellion against the very nature of the God we claim to worship. God builds His house with a measuring line, not with a vague feeling.
Notice the direction of movement. We are moving from the outer court to the inner court. This is a progression into a place of greater holiness, closer to the presence of God. And how do we get there? We ascend. Each of these inner gates has a stairway of eight steps. The gates to the outer court, you will recall from earlier in the chapter, had seven steps. Seven is the number of perfection and completion, the rhythm of the old creation. But here we have eight steps. Eight is the number of the new creation, the number of resurrection. Christ rose on the eighth day, the first day of the new week. To approach God in true worship is to ascend into a new reality. It is to enter into the power of the resurrection. We do not come to God on the level; we must be raised up.
And what do we find adorning these gates? Palm tree ornaments. In Scripture, palm branches are symbols of victory, triumph, and righteousness (Ps. 92:12). When Christ entered Jerusalem, the crowds waved palm branches, hailing Him as the victorious king (John 12:13). The saints in glory stand before the throne with palm branches in their hands (Rev. 7:9). These gates, therefore, are gates of victory. The entrance to true worship is through the victory of Jesus Christ. We do not crawl into God's presence as defeated beggars; we ascend as victorious sons and daughters, clothed in the triumph of our King.
The Abattoir at the Center (vv. 38-43)
Having passed through the gates of orderly, resurrection victory, we might expect to find a serene and tranquil place. But what we find next is shocking to our modern sensibilities. We find a holy abattoir, a divine slaughterhouse.
"In the porch of the gate were two tables on each side, on which to slaughter the burnt offering, the sin offering and the guilt offering... eight tables on which they slaughter sacrifices... four tables of cut stone... on which they lay the instruments with which they slaughter the burnt offering and the sacrifice. The double hooks... were installed... and on the tables was the flesh of the offering." (Ezekiel 40:39, 41-43)
Let the sheer physicality of this sink in. We have eight tables specifically designated for slaughter. We have four more tables of hewn stone, solid and permanent, for the instruments of slaughter. We have hooks on the walls. And on the tables, there is the flesh of the offering. This is not a metaphor. This is a description of a place where animals are killed, bled, and butchered. The way into the inner court, the way to God, is through a bloody mess.
Why is this here? Because this is where sin is dealt with. The wages of sin is death (Rom. 6:23). Without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness of sins (Heb. 9:22). This vision forces us to confront the brutal reality of our predicament. Our sin is not a minor slip-up; it is a capital offense that requires a death sentence. The burnt offering, the sin offering, the guilt offering, they all speak to the different facets of our rebellion and the comprehensive nature of the required atonement.
This is a direct assault on all forms of bloodless, sentimental religion. Many want a God of love without a God of wrath. They want a crown without a cross. They want a temple without a slaughterhouse. But the blueprint of God says otherwise. The way to life is through death. The way to forgiveness is through blood. The way to communion is through sacrifice.
Of course, this entire setup is a shadow. It is a type. These tables, these hooks, these instruments of slaughter all point to one place: Golgotha. They all point to the one, final, perfect sacrifice of the Lamb of God. Jesus Christ is our burnt offering, wholly consumed for the glory of God. He is our sin offering, bearing our guilt in His own body. He is our guilt offering, making restitution for the damage we have done. The cross was God's great stone table, where the instruments of His wrath fell upon His own Son, that we might be forgiven.
Conclusion: Worship in the True Temple
So what does this ancient blueprint have to do with us, here and now? Everything. We are the temple of the living God. This vision is a picture of the Church, and it is a picture of every true Christian.
Our approach to God must be orderly. We come through the gates He has appointed, not through some back door of our own invention. We come through the preaching of the Word, the waters of baptism, the fellowship of the saints, and the celebration at the Lord's Table. Our worship should be structured, thoughtful, and reverent, reflecting the order of our God.
Our approach to God is an ascent. We are raised with Christ. We have ascended the eight steps of the new creation. We are seated with Him in the heavenly places (Eph. 2:6). Our worship is not a grim duty down here, but a victorious celebration up there. We come adorned with the palm branches of His victory over sin, death, and the devil.
And most centrally, our approach to God is always, always through the slaughter. We never outgrow our need for the cross. At the gate of our hearts, there must be those tables of sacrifice. We must daily slaughter our pride, our lust, our rebellion. We must continually apply the blood of Christ to our consciences. We cannot waltz into the inner court of fellowship with God while ignoring the sin that He hates. The Christian life is a life of constant repentance, a constant returning to the cross where our sin was dealt with once and for all.
This vision was given to a people in exile to give them hope. It was a promise that God would one day restore true worship and dwell with them again. That promise has been fulfilled in Jesus Christ. He is the temple, He is the sacrifice, and He is the priest. And by faith in Him, we have been brought out of our exile of sin and made living stones in this glorious house. We are the fulfillment of this blueprint. Therefore, let us worship Him with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire.