A Strange Ordination
This is a typical-looking Baptist ordination, like mine. I don’t have any pictures of my service in 1981.
Like many who have served in vocational ministry, a sense of “calling” came long before service. In my case, it was equal parts personal desire and affirmation by older, more mature members of my church. It was confirmed by the first church I served, which observed my character and examined my doctrine through a council of other pastors and laypeople. They then held an “ordination service,” setting me apart to serve the Lord Jesus as a teacher and shepherd of his people.
Different denominations do things differently, but none today would consider the ministerial vocation something you inherit. Yes, a son may follow a father into vocational ministry (my son did), but it wasn’t by inheritance but a response to God’s work in his life.
[Below—Roman Catholic ordination to the priesthood is much more formal, as they believe that authority is conferred through the Bishop in a direct line from the apostles and ultimately Jesus]
For Ezekiel (and all Old Covenant priests), their calling was a birthright and a responsibility. You could not choose to be a priest if you were not a descendant of Aaron, and if you were such a descendant, that would be your life’s work unless physically or morally disqualified.
We don’t know anything about Ezekiel’s subjective sense of calling since that concept really didn’t exist back then. A male Israelite descended from Aaron’s family knew that his calliing was “priest” and that was that.
An artist’s rendering of the anointing of Aaron and his sons as priests, described in Leviticus.
Of course, the Old Testament tells us that the priestly situation in Israel was not always spiritually healthy. Sadly, the priests were often as much or more of a problem for God than the laypeople. Two of Aaron’s four sons were struck dead while offering unauthorized insence before the Lord. The High Priest Eli’s sons were morally awful, and Samuel’s sons weren’t much better. Later, priests went along with and even encouraged idolatry and other forms of unfaithfulness to Yahweh. Their leading role in rebellion against God meant they were ripe for his discipline, which explains why they were not spared from being deported by conquering kings. Many times, the prophets warned the shepherds of Israel (the priests and leaders) that their failure to lead the people in righteousness was bringing judgment on them and the nation. In the exile, judgment fell.
Ezekiel had been raised for the priesthood (as had his cousins by the dozens). At 30, he would have been brought into active service as a part of the Temple priesthood, taking his place (and turn) in the various holy observances there. As he drew closer to adulthood, this anticipated future probably dominated his life. But when King Jehoiachin was carried away to Babylon, many of the nation’s upper class—including priests—were also taken. Among them was 25-year-old Ezekiel.
When the Book of Ezekiel opens, this priest-in-waiting tells us it is his 30th year, and by giving us specific dates and events, we are led to believe it may be his birthday, the day he would have been anointed and begun his duties in the Temple. What a terrible birthday to celebrate! All of the “what ifs” and “might have beens” would come crashing into his mind, along with the huge question, “Why?” What good is a priest sitting by the Chebar Canal in the Jewish settlement of Nippur, Babylon? There was no Temple for Yahweh and no need for Yahweh’s priests in a land of idols. If Ezekiel was already a faithful follower of Yahweh, this date marked the loss of his hopes to serve. If, like so many other priests, he hadn’t taken the spiritual dimension of his calling seriously before, he still had suffered the derailment of his life plan.
But God had something very different in mind for Ezekiel, as seen in the very first verse of his prophecy— “the heavens were opened, and I saw visions of God.”
What follows is a revelation of God's glory, similar to the vision of Isaiah (ch. 6) and later accounts in Revelation (chs 4-5). Ezekiel wasn’t expecting this, and some of God’s later interactions with him show Ezekiel’s slowness in responding—he has to be told numerous things repeatedly. But Ezekiel 1-3 is nothing less than a call to be God’s minister. Its starting point is not Ezekiel’s circumstances but a vision of God’s transcendent glory. It is a commission as a prophet to reveal God’s words, judgments, and future plans to his people. And it was God’s own ordination into the Temple priesthood, for at two different times, the Spirit of Lord takes Ezekiel into the Temple itself—something only a priest would be allowed to experience. From seeing the corruption of the Temple (and people) of his day to inspecting the future Temple to be revealed, Ezekiel had priestly access to visit and describe what he saw to his hearers and readers.
An artist’s depiction of Ezekiel’s vision of God’s glory in ch. 1
Ezekiel thought he had lost the opportunity to serve God. Little did he know that God’s gracious plan was to give him a service far beyond what he had envisioned. It began with this vision, and for the next decades it would continue with strange messages to act out and experiences to relay. Like Isaiah, his audience was hard-hearted. But in the heart of Babylon, Ezekiel met and served the God he thought had failed him and his people.
What can we learn about God’s “calling” from this episode, even when we acknowledge that the circumstances and nature of the call are so different from contemporary ministry?
First, a true call should originate in God’s work, not ours. God specifically called Ezekiel to his prophet/priest role—something that was not expected or normal in Israel. As one who spoke as much about the New Covenant as any OT figure, his own ministry exemplifies this in requiring God’s action before Ezekiel responds.
Second, a true call should be anchored in the glory of God. For Ezekiel, that was accomplished through his inaugural vision. We don’t receive ordination visions, but the glories of God have been revealed to us in the fullness of the Bible. The Scriptures give us increasingly clear vision to see how great our God is. All communication on his behalf should begin with just how great he is.
Third, the worthiness of the called one is not in view, only the will of the Caller. Nothing in this text points to Ezekiel’s worthiness to serve, only the worthiness of God to be worshiped.
Fourth, the reality of one’s call has no relationship to the responsiveness of the listeners. When you read Ezekiel, he always seemed to have people there as an audience, but there is never a word written in the book that indicates faith expressed by his hearers. They saw him as entertaining, but not convincing. Our hearers’ response is not governed by us.
Finally, while the book records no immediate repentance among Ezekiel’s hearers, when King Cyrus allowed exiles to return to Jerusalem to rebuild the Temple decades later, some people went, even after 70 years of captivity, to restore God's worship. How was that faith kept alive? Apparently, Ezekiel and others were more effective than their immediate audience’s response indicated. We don’t know when seeds we plant will germinate, but God will accomplish his purposes, save his people, and bring glory to himself in his perfect timing.
