Ez 18:1-4, 25-32
28 September 2008
“Victims of Circumstances”
We’ve all heard of people who have received visions and commands from the Lord. We’ve also heard of those who have received strange visions and commands from the Lord. I would say the poster boy for such people is the prophet Ezekiel. As a rule, prophets are known for their eccentric behavior, but there’s a lot of bizarre stuff crammed into the book bearing Ezekiel’s name.
The prophet is one of many of his fellow Jews who’ve been taken by the Babylonians into exile. In the very first verse of the book, Ezekiel says that he has received “visions of God.” His call to be a prophet comes by way of a vision of God’s chariot throne. There are those, strange birds themselves, who have concluded that what Ezekiel sees is an alien spacecraft!
I’ll give one other example of strange goings-on. In chapter 4, to represent the dire straits of Jerusalem when the Babylonians destroy it, Ezekiel is commanded to prepare some bland-tasting bread, and he must bake it over a fire, using human feces as fuel for the flame.
Ezekiel reacts by saying that he has never defiled himself. The Lord responds, “Yeah, I see your point. That is pretty gross! How about this: you have permission to fuel the fire with cow feces instead.” That prompts the prophet to say, “Wow, what a relief!” (About those “colorful” comments: I did say I’d been sick this week!)
Don’t get me wrong! I really love Ezekiel. I think besides Jeremiah, he’s the prophet whose personal life we learn the most about. And it’s not everyone who can be trusted with the strange commands he’s given.
Then we have today’s scripture reading. It shouldn’t be a surprise that this rather odd individual feels called by God to criticize a rather odd saying. We see it in verse 2: “The parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge.” What in the world does that mean? What does it mean to have your teeth set on edge? What kind of face do you make when you eat something sour?
Anyway, what’s wrong with that saying? What’s the big deal with parents eating sour grapes and the kids making a funny face? It’s not like the exiles in Babylon are the only ones who’ve ever had a “fruity” proverb about parents and children. I imagine you’ve heard this one. “You know what they say: the apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree!”
In chapter 3, soon after Ezekiel is called by God to be a prophet, he learns that he is given the role of sentinel. An explanation follows. What’s the job of the sentinel; what’s the function of the lookout? If trouble is on the way, the sentinel needs to raise the alarm. If the sentinel does the job properly, then he or she isn’t at fault if the people ignore the warning. On the other hand, if the lookout is sleeping on the job, then woe to that person who slipped up!
Aside from the exodus from Egypt, the other major earth-shattering event in the Old Testament is the exile into Babylon. This is much more than a military defeat. It is a complete reordering of a way of life. The exiles have been taken away from the land. The temple is no longer a part of their lives. The foundation of everything they believe in has been shaken. How could this happen? How could the people of Yahweh, the Lord, be so thoroughly routed?
To call this an occasion for soul-searching hardly does justice to the term!
Assuming that this is divine punishment, it’s unthinkable that a single generation could have done so much wrong to bring this kind of reprisal. There seems to be precedent for this outlook. At the time of the exodus, doesn’t the Lord claim to be “a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity of parents” (Ex 20:5)? (By the way, the answer to that is “yes.” It’s in the commandment: “do not make an idol!”)
So it must be true! We’re being punished for the sins of those who came before us! You know what they say: the parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge. We don’t deserve all this misery.
How can you argue with that reasoning? Obviously it’s unfair to punish someone for something they had no hand in doing! To take the idea of a jealous God who corrects children for stuff their parents did—and just leave it at that—oversimplifies it to the point of being ridiculous.
In the background of all of this is the concept of corporate guilt. It’s the idea that we all suffer for the crimes and sins of others. But it goes beyond simply suffering because of them; we actually share in their guilt. One example is the version of original sin that claims we’re guilty because Adam was guilty.
I’ll admit that I have trouble wrapping my head around that one. Still, we can picture corporate guilt in more observable ways. Theoretically, it could apply to any group of which we’re a member. For instance, to the extent we define ourselves as “American,” we would bear the guilt of crimes done in her name. That would also apply to the church.
I would wager that most of us today aren’t strong believers in corporate guilt. And that is not an entirely good thing! We don’t feel accountable for the crimes of our ancestors—even if we have benefited from them. Our individualistic preferences have caused us to lose much of the deep sense of connectivity, that throughout history, much (if not most) of the human race has shared.
With all this talk about corporate guilt, it may sound like I’m arguing with Ezekiel. If that thought has occurred to you, hold that thought! The middle part of the chapter lays out types of behavior between generations. (The parent does this, but then the child does that.) It alternates between good and bad behavior.
Read it, and you’ll see that there’s no taking credit for someone else’s virtues, just as there’s no passing blame for one’s own vices. As verse 20 states, “the righteousness of the righteous shall be his own, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be his own.”
By using the proverb Ezekiel says God has denounced, the people want to shift responsibility away from themselves. They’re saying that they are the victims of circumstances. But the prophet says that just won’t work.
Regardless as to the degree we see the Babylonian exile as a punishment from God—and sincere, faithful Christians are not of one mind on this—Ezekiel has a message for his compatriots. You need not look at the crimes of your forefathers and foremothers. You’ve committed plenty of sins yourself. So there’s no need to play the victim.
It’s not likely that any of us have faced, or will face, a situation as grim as exile. Then again, it’s foolish to think we can apply arithmetic to suffering. Who’s to say how anyone will react, given a set of circumstances? Still, there can be a certain feeling of comfort, of shelter, by indulging in guilt. In a strange way, it can provide us with excuses. It can seem to give us reasons to just give up—to assume that we’ll always be the victim.
I recently quoted Bill Loader, a minister from Australia. He has some useful advice on this point.[1] He speaks of the “need to get real and help [others] to get real…It is OK to be who I am. There is much that I can do and much that I cannot do. I need to live with the pain out there and live with the realization that I am who I am and can do and be only what I can do and be. All else is a running away from reality. I am not going to do anyone any good by retreating into the ‘comfort’ of feeling guilty.”
He speaks like someone who knows how that temptation feels. I like what he says next. “Guilt is a useful place to be only because it is a place from which to move on; it is not a place to live. The generous love which includes us also wants us to be real about being alive and free. In such generous love and loving we can be real and really play our part in the world.”
To be alive and free—that is God’s great desire for all of us. Look at how the chapter ends. “Get yourselves a new heart and a new spirit! Why will you die, O house of Israel? For I have no pleasure in the death of anyone, says the Lord God. Turn, then, and live” (vv. 31-32). Really live!
To be alive and free—those are good things, aren’t they? Still, if we’re brutally honest with ourselves, how often do we choose to diminish our lives? How often do we choose to avoid freedom? Life and freedom: they truly are good things. But embracing them can be a scary proposition.
As I’ve already suggested, it can feel easier—it can feel safer—to take refuge in guilt, or in being the victim. The proverb the exiles have been repeating seems to absolve them of responsibility. It’s our parents’ fault that we’re this way! Don’t talk to us about freedom; don’t tell us we have a choice!
Life and freedom are just as scary for us today. Whether we want to admit it or not, we too often want someone else to tell us what to do. We want someone to tell us what to think. But at the end of the day—and I don’t say this lightly—it’s our choice as to whether or not we are victims of circumstances.
As verse 3 says, “As I live, says the Lord God, this proverb [this excuse] shall no more be used by you.” The God of life, the God of love and freedom, hates the way we diminish ourselves. Remember God’s message given by Moses in Deuteronomy 30. “I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life, so that you and your descendants may live” (v. 19).
What does this mean for you? Choose life; choose freedom. Understand that you are already forgiven. Understand that your circumstances can’t take away the freedom God has given you. By ignoring Ezekiel, that strange prophet, we only hurt ourselves.