Ezekiel 40:48-49

The Divine Blueprint: Entering God's Porch Text: Ezekiel 40:48-49

Introduction: God's Meticulous Grace

We come now to the fortieth chapter of Ezekiel, and the scenery changes dramatically. For thirty-nine chapters, the prophet has been a voice of judgment, of woe, of the dismantling of a rebellious nation. He has seen the glory of God depart from the Temple in Jerusalem, leaving it hollow and desolate, a body without a spirit, ripe for destruction. The people are in exile, sitting by the rivers of Babylon, their capital city a heap of ruins, their sacred space defiled and destroyed. From a human perspective, all hope is lost. The story of Israel is over.

And it is precisely into this black despair that God injects a vision of impossible glory. For the final nine chapters of this book, God, through an angelic guide, gives Ezekiel a meticulously detailed tour of a new Temple. This is not a hazy, sentimental dream; it is a blueprint, full of cubits and handbreadths, gates and chambers, pillars and porches. Our modern sensibilities, which prefer soaring abstractions and dislike dogmatic particulars, can find these chapters tedious. We want the poetry of the Psalms, not the architectural specifications of Leviticus. But in doing so, we miss the entire point. The details are the point.

God is communicating to a broken people that His grace is not vague. His plan of restoration is not an afterthought. It is precise, measured, and gloriously ordered. He is not just going to restore them; He is going to build something magnificent, and He has the blueprints to prove it. This vision was given to a people whose central symbol of God's presence had been utterly obliterated. This was God's answer to their despair. He was saying, "You think I am done building? Watch this."

We must understand what this Temple is. It is not a literal blueprint for a third temple to be built by human hands in Jerusalem, complete with a reinstitution of animal sacrifices that the book of Hebrews tells us have been rendered obsolete by the final sacrifice of Christ. To read it this way is to read the Old Testament with a veil over our hearts, to miss the crescendo of redemptive history. This temple is a prophetic vision of the new covenant reality. It is a picture of the Church, the dwelling place of God, and its ultimate fulfillment in the New Jerusalem. Every measurement, every gateway, every pillar is dripping with theological meaning, pointing us to the person and work of Jesus Christ, who is the true Temple.


The Text

Then he brought me to the porch of the house and measured each side pillar of the porch, five cubits on each side; and the width of the gate was three cubits on each side. The length of the porch was twenty cubits and the width eleven cubits; and at the stairway by which it was ascended were columns belonging to the side pillars, one on each side.
(Ezekiel 40:48-49 ESV)

Entering the House (v. 48)

The angelic guide brings Ezekiel from the inner court right to the very entrance of the temple proper, the house itself. The first feature he encounters is the porch.

"Then he brought me to the porch of the house and measured each side pillar of the porch, five cubits on each side; and the width of the gate was three cubits on each side." (Ezekiel 40:48)

The porch is the transitional space. It is the grand entryway into the presence of God. You are leaving the courts, where the people could gather, and are now at the threshold of the sanctuary itself. This is a place of preparation and awe. In the Christian life, this is the entryway of faith. It is where we leave the world behind and prepare to enter into communion with the Holy One. The very existence of a porch tells us that God is not a God who can be barged in upon. He is holy, and He defines the terms of approach.

Notice the first thing the angel does. He measures. God's work is always measured, always according to His perfect standard. And what does he measure? The side pillars of the porch. These are the foundational supports of the entrance. They are measured at "five cubits on each side." The number five in Scripture is consistently associated with grace. We have five books in the Pentateuch, the foundation of God's law. David chose five smooth stones to face the giant. Jesus fed five thousand with five loaves. The entrance to God's house is established on pillars of grace. You do not enter because you are worthy, strong, or righteous in yourself. You enter because God's grace has made a way and provides the support.

Then we see the width of the gate itself, "three cubits on each side." The number three, of course, shouts of the Trinity. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit are the gate. Jesus says, "I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved" (John 10:9). We enter into God's presence through the triune God Himself. There is no other way. The gate is not wide open; it has defined measurements. It is not a vague spirituality, but a specific, Trinitarian salvation. The way in is narrow in that it is exclusive to Christ, but it is a gate nonetheless, an opening provided by God.


The Dimensions of Approach (v. 49)

Verse 49 gives us the overall dimensions of this porch and mentions another key feature: the columns.

"The length of the porch was twenty cubits and the width eleven cubits; and at the stairway by which it was ascended were columns belonging to the side pillars, one on each side." (Ezekiel 40:49)

The porch is twenty cubits long and eleven cubits wide. Twenty is two times ten. Ten is the number of divine order, seen in the Ten Commandments. Two is the number of witness. So the entrance to God's house bears a double witness to His divine order. This is a place governed by God's law and God's truth. The width is eleven cubits. This is a curious number. It is one short of twelve, the number of God's people (twelve tribes, twelve apostles). It could signify the transition, the "not yet" state of the pilgrim on his way into the fullness of God's house. But it is also a prime number, indivisible, perhaps pointing to the singular focus required to approach God.

But the most striking feature is mentioned last. There is a stairway leading up to this porch, and at this stairway are columns, "one on each side." This immediately brings to mind the two great pillars of Solomon's temple, Jachin and Boaz (1 Kings 7:21). Jachin means "He will establish," and Boaz means "In Him is strength." These two pillars were not structural supports for the roof; they were freestanding monuments that made a theological declaration to all who entered. To come into God's house was to be reminded of two foundational truths: God is the one who establishes His covenant, and all our strength is found in Him.

These columns in Ezekiel's vision serve the same purpose. You ascend to God. Worship is an upward call. It requires effort, a climbing. But as you begin to climb, you are flanked by these two great reminders. You do not ascend in your own strength. You do not establish your own righteousness. He will establish you. In Him is your strength. These are the twin truths of the gospel. God's sovereign establishment of His plan (Jachin) and the strength He provides for us to walk in it (Boaz). This is the essence of Paul's exhortation in Philippians: "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure" (Phil. 2:12-13). You work, you ascend the stairs, but you do so bracketed by the reality that He is the one establishing and strengthening you.


The Temple We Are Building

So what does this mean for us? This is not just an architectural tour for exiled Jews. This is a blueprint for the Church. The Apostle Peter tells us that we "like living stones, are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood" (1 Peter 2:5). God is building His temple today, and it is the Church, the collective body of believers. And what is true of the whole is true of the parts.

Every local church is a front porch of the heavenly temple. It is the place where the world is invited to leave the outer court of secularism and approach the living God. And our entryways must be built to His specifications. Our pillars must be the pillars of grace. We must not present the church as a club for the righteous, but as a hospital for sinners who know their only stability is in the grace of God. Our gate must be the Triune God Himself, proclaiming salvation through Christ alone. We are not offering a buffet of spiritual options; we are pointing to the one door.

The life of our church must bear a double witness to the divine order of God's Word. It must be a place of twenty cubits, where the truth is taught, where lives are ordered according to Scripture, not the whims of the culture. And as people come, as they ascend the stairs of discipleship, they must be met with the glorious truths of Jachin and Boaz. We must constantly remind them, and ourselves, that God is the one who establishes this church, and our strength for service, for worship, for witness, is found entirely in Him. We are not building this in our own cleverness or with our own programmatic strength.

And this is true for each one of us individually. Your life is a temple of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor. 6:19). How are you building the porch of your life? When people approach you, what do they encounter? Do they see pillars of grace, or pillars of self-righteous pride? Is the gate to your heart open through Christ, or is it cluttered with idols? Is your life ordered by the Word, or by chaos? As you ascend in your walk with God, are you leaning on the twin pillars of His establishment and His strength?

Ezekiel's vision was a promise of future glory to a people in ruins. That promise has been inaugurated in Jesus Christ. He is the true Temple that was torn down and raised in three days. And now, by His Spirit, He is building His new temple, the Church, out of living stones from every tribe and tongue and nation. He is measuring it, ordering it, and building it according to His perfect, gracious plan. And the porch is where it all begins. It is the glorious, measured, and grace-sustained entrance into the very presence of God.