The Grammar of Holiness: Atonement for the House Text: Ezekiel 45:18-20
Introduction: God's Gracious Housekeeping
We live in a messy world. We track in mud and we don't even notice it. We spill things, we break things, and we become accustomed to the clutter. This is true of our homes, and it is far more true of our hearts and our churches. We have a remarkable capacity to grow comfortable with a low-grade spiritual grime. We tolerate sins of attitude, we make excuses for relational friction, and we allow the dust of worldliness to settle on everything. Before we know it, the place is a wreck, and we've forgotten what it was like for it to be clean.
The prophet Ezekiel is given a vision of a new temple, a new order of worship for a restored people. After the catastrophic judgment of the exile, where the glory of God physically departed from the first temple because of its defilement, God is promising a return. But this return is not unconditional. God is holy, and if He is to dwell with His people, His house must be kept clean. He is not a guest who will tolerate living in our filth. He is the owner of the house, and He sets the terms. What we find in our text today is God's prescribed spiritual housekeeping. It is a liturgical calendar that begins not with a party, but with a deep cleaning.
Modern evangelicals are often allergic to this kind of talk. We like grace, but we want it to be a sentimental, no-fault grace that never mentions defilement. We like the idea of God's presence, but we want a casual presence that doesn't require us to change our clothes, metaphorically speaking. But the Bible knows nothing of this. The God who is a consuming fire does not coddle our sins; He provides a way for them to be consumed so that we are not. This passage, with its talk of bulls and blood and doorposts, is not some arcane relic. It is a foundational lesson in the grammar of holiness. It teaches us that fellowship with God requires purification, that this purification is costly, and that it must be applied to the very structure of our corporate life.
And it teaches us something else, something crucial. This cleansing is not just for the high-handed, notorious rebel. It is for the one who "errs or is simpleminded." It is for the sins we don't even know we are committing. God's provision is more thorough than our awareness of our need. He knows the house gets dirty in ways we don't even see, and in His grace, He provides the remedy.
The Text
‘Thus says Lord Yahweh, “In the first month, on the first of the month, you shall take a bull from the herd without blemish and purify the sanctuary. The priest shall take some of the blood from the sin offering and put it on the door posts of the house, on the four corners of the ledge of the altar, and on the posts of the gate of the inner court. And thus you shall do on the seventh day of the month for everyone who errs or is simpleminded; so you shall make atonement for the house.”
(Ezekiel 45:18-20 LSB)
The New Year's Cleaning (v. 18)
We begin with the divine command for the start of the year.
"‘Thus says Lord Yahweh, “In the first month, on the first of the month, you shall take a bull from the herd without blemish and purify the sanctuary." (Ezekiel 45:18)
The first thing to notice is the timing. The new year begins with purification. Before there can be celebration, before the Passover is observed (v. 21), there must be cleansing. This establishes a fundamental principle: holiness precedes worship. We cannot rush into God's presence with the accumulated grime of the past year and expect Him to be pleased. A holy God requires a holy people in a holy place. The first act of the new year is to deal with the sin of the old year.
The instrument of this purification is "a bull from the herd without blemish." The sacrifice must be costly, a young bull, and it must be perfect. This isn't about getting rid of your sick or lame animals. This is about offering the best you have. Why? Because the blemish on the animal would signify a blemish in the worshiper's heart. More importantly, this unblemished sacrifice was a prophetic type, a shadow pointing to the truly unblemished Lamb of God, Jesus Christ (1 Peter 1:19). The Old Testament sacrifices never took away sin, but they taught the worshiper what sin deserved, death, and what God required, perfection. They were object lessons pointing to the one who would be both the perfect priest and the perfect sacrifice.
The purpose is to "purify the sanctuary." Notice the object of the cleansing. It's not primarily the people, but the place. This seems odd to our individualistic mindset. But in the Old Testament, the corporate reality was paramount. The sins of the people didn't just stain their own souls; they defiled the house where God dwelt. Think of it like this: if your children are constantly fighting and disobeying in your home, the atmosphere of the home itself becomes toxic and unpleasant. The sins of Israel had so polluted the first temple that God's glory had to leave. This new beginning requires a purging of the very structure, a spiritual fumigation, so that God can dwell there again.
The Application of Blood (v. 19)
Verse 19 tells us how this purification is accomplished. It is not done with soap and water, but with blood.
"The priest shall take some of the blood from the sin offering and put it on the door posts of the house, on the four corners of the ledge of the altar, and on the posts of the gate of the inner court." (Ezekiel 45:19 LSB)
The priest acts as the mediator. He is the one designated to handle the holy things, to stand between a sinful people and a holy God. And what he handles is the blood. The Bible is unflinchingly clear: "without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness" (Hebrews 9:22). This is because the life of the flesh is in the blood (Leviticus 17:11), and the wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23). Life must be given for life. The blood of the bull represents a life poured out in substitution for the life of the sinner. It is a graphic, bloody reminder of the cost of sin.
And where is this blood applied? To the key points of contact and worship. It's put on the doorposts of the house, which reminds us immediately of the Passover, where the blood on the doorposts marked out the people of God from judgment. Here, it consecrates the very entrance into God's presence. It is put on the four corners of the altar, the place of sacrifice. The place where atonement is made must itself be atoned for. It is put on the gateposts of the inner court, the threshold to the holier spaces. Every point of access, every place of service, is marked and cleansed by the blood. There is no part of our worship, no part of our approach to God, that does not need to be purified by the substitutionary death that this blood represents.
Atonement for Unseen Sins (v. 20)
Verse 20 extends this provision in a remarkable way, showing the thoroughness of God's grace.
"And thus you shall do on the seventh day of the month for everyone who errs or is simpleminded; so you shall make atonement for the house." (Ezekiel 45:20 LSB)
This cleansing ritual is repeated a week later. But notice for whom it is done. It is for "everyone who errs or is simpleminded." The Hebrew here points to sins of ignorance, inadvertent sins, and sins committed without full knowledge or awareness. This is not for the defiant rebel who sins "with a high hand" (Numbers 15:30). There was no sacrifice for that kind of presumptuous sin. This is for the ordinary, daily accumulation of sin that happens because we are frail, foolish, and finite creatures living in a fallen world.
This is a profound comfort and a solemn warning. The warning is that sin is sin, whether we intend it or not. Ignorance is not innocence. We can be guilty of sins we are not even aware of. As David prayed, "Who can discern his errors? Forgive my hidden faults" (Psalm 19:12). We are more sinful than we know. Our hearts are leaky vessels, and our lives are constantly being contaminated in ways we don't perceive.
But the comfort is that God's atonement is deeper than our consciousness. He provides a sacrifice that covers the sins we don't even know to confess. This is not an excuse for carelessness, but rather a provision for our creaturely weakness. God knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust. And so He makes atonement "for the house." The corporate entity, the church, is cleansed from the collective, often unseen, defilement of its members. The blood of the sacrifice is sufficient for the sins we see and the sins we don't.
The Blood on Our Doorposts
Now, how do we handle a text like this? We are not under the ceremonial law of Moses. We do not have a temple in Jerusalem, a Levitical priesthood, or a system of animal sacrifice. To simply dismiss this as irrelevant is to tear pages out of God's Word. To try and reenact it literally is to deny the finished work of Christ. The proper way is to see that this entire vision, like the whole Old Testament sacrificial system, is a magnificent, detailed, divinely-drawn blueprint of the person and work of Jesus Christ.
The sanctuary that needs cleansing is, first and foremost, the church, the household of God (1 Timothy 3:15). We, as a corporate body, are the temple of the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 3:16). And we defile this temple with our sins, both known and unknown. Our gossip, our pride, our impatience, our theological sloppiness, our lack of love, all these things stain the house.
The unblemished bull is Jesus Christ, the perfect sacrifice, offered once for all (Hebrews 10:10). His sacrifice was not a temporary covering, but a complete and final removal of sin. He is our great High Priest, who does not need to offer a sacrifice for His own sin before He can offer one for us (Hebrews 7:27). He is both the priest and the victim.
And His blood, the blood of the new covenant, is what purifies the true sanctuary. It is applied to the doorposts of our hearts by faith. When we come to God through Christ, we are coming through a gate that has been consecrated by His blood. The altar from which we offer our sacrifices of praise (Hebrews 13:15) has been cleansed by His blood. Every aspect of our corporate life, our worship, our fellowship, our service, must be brought under the cleansing power of Christ's death.
And this atonement covers even our sins of ignorance, our simpleminded stumblings. When we come to the Lord's Table, we confess our sins. But we should do so with the humble recognition that we are confessing only the sins we are aware of. We are trusting that the blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, cleanses us from all sin (1 John 1:7), including the multitude of foolish errors and hidden faults that we are blind to. God's gracious housekeeping is perfect. He doesn't just sweep the dirt we can see under the rug. He washes the whole house, from top to bottom, with the blood of His Son, making it a fit place for His glory to dwell.