Book of Ezekiel 16-48

In a certain sort of way, Ezekiel 16 kicks off with a funny and highly irreverent version of Jewish origins.  But there is other material later in the book that presents equally unique and not always easily-to-be-interpreted-as-funny versions of previous biblical lore.  I will have more to say about that a little later on.

Jews are compared to a brazen harlot, in an extended sequence.  The phrase, "like mother, like daughter" is used.  I'm sure you're more familiar with, "like father, like son."

There's an account of why Sodom was smited.  Ezekiel suggests a number of things, including that God had attempted to plant his faith in a number of other places (that may also be the point of Balaam, the prophet of little luck I obsessed over previously, at least according to this interpretation) but was rebuffed, and so he smited them.  Such the fate of Sodom, then, as Israel/Judah is smited in the exile era, which is what all these recent prophetic books have been obsessing over.

And so we reach Ezekiel 25.17, which is what Jules (that is, Samuel L. Jackson) draws from for some of his famous words he favors before a hit in Pulp Fiction.  In the movie he says, "And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers.  And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you."  Obviously there will be differences of interpretation between different translations of the Bible.  But in this instance, perhaps there's a little more of Quentin Tarantino than strict translating here.  The version in my RSV Bible reads as follows: "I will execute great vengeance upon them with wrathful chastisements.  Then they will know that I am the Lord, when I lay my vengeance upon them."

It's worth noting that the latter phrase is used repeatedly in Ezekiel, almost as often as "son of man."

It may be worth noting further, for the purposes of one of the things I've been using as a biblical refrain in these commentaries, that the passage refers in part to the Philistines.  I guess it only figures.

38 and 39 reference Gog and Magog, which are classic names in biblical apocalyptic lore, although I have no idea why having read about them in Ezekiel.  Both names can be found in a number of DC comics, starting in 1996's Kingdom Come and in later iterations of the same story, such as "Thy Kingdom Come" from Justice Society of America.  Magog is specifically referenced in Ezekiel as being a place, but in these comics he's basically the anti-Superman.  Perhaps related to the concept of Antichrist from Revelation?  The Magog, meanwhile, are apocalyptic aliens in Gene Roddenberry's Andromeda.

Ezekiel ends with an elaborate plan for the new temple.  The whole book might almost be interpreted as a version of the Bible for those who didn't really have the Bible, an exile translation as it were, all its apocalyptic talk concerning the Babylonian era.

Book of Baruch 1-6, Book of Ezekiel 1-15

Baruch, who played a supporting role in Book of Jeremiah, returns in his own book.  Again, these are two books that don't seem to have been written in awareness of each other.  For instance, Baruch is basically a televangelist in this version.  Read it in your favorite televangelist's voice.  You'll see what I mean.  He describes himself as basically hugely successful in selling the word of God (and by implication Jeremiah), which is not exactly how (read: at all) it is in Jeremiah.  He stresses the importance of serving Babylon faithfully.  In fact, that sounds like rendering to Caesar what's Caesar's (something Jesus later says), or in effect the way the actual Evangelists interpreted the events of the New Testament so that they would not be smited (as much?) by their Roman contemporaries.

Jeremiah isn't referenced until the final chapter, which takes the form of one of his letters, which doesn't sound incredibly like Book of Jeremiah.

On to Big E.  Fans of Pulp Fiction may or may not know this particular book of the Bible (I'll reach the relevant passage by the next entry of these commentaries if you have no idea what I'm talking about).  We're still in the thick of the exile era.  It's no wonder that it was so popular a subject, given that by the time of Jesus, the Jews were back in exile, and they wouldn't really emerge for two thousand years.  (Which, again, begs the question of why no one has publicly proclaimed the return to Israel last century as a fulfillment of the Jewish messianic prophecies; Golda Meir too female?)

Anyway, Book of Ezekiel begins like classic apocalyptic biblical material, which like the later Revelation of the New Testament is filled with Babylonian messages, although this one really is about Babylon.  Apparently the fancy winged figures who precede God were not so much Ezekiel's inventions, but figures anyone at the time would have been able to identify.  (Again, we seem to take for granted everything we think now about the stuff we read in the Bible was exactly how they thought about it then, but we're talking the difference of several thousand years.  Tons can change and in fact has.  I'm just saying.  Maybe it's time we all take a more nuanced look at the Good Book.  Could do wonders for everyone, believers and otherwise.)

Ezekiel's vision, of course, also includes God, which is the first direct look at him, with no proxy or representation or generalization needed.  Which might explain why we have a humanized look of him today, even though he still features the same glowy appearance featured elsewhere in the Bible, both testaments.

The phrase "son of man" is used repeatedly in this book, as God's term for Ezekiel.  This is relevant as another thing Reza Aslan could have used to keep in mind when researching and writing the otherwise stellar Zealot.

The Spirit is also once again present.  Those who attempt to simplify Jewish faith claim that one of Christianity's big errors is that it attempts to make a mystery out of monotheism by presenting not only God, but the Spirit and the Son as well.  But all three are present in the Old Testament, repeatedly, the Son admittedly most obliquely.  But it's not a question at all as to the presence of the Spirit.

There are a number of theological flip-floppings in Ezekiel, suggesting that it's another book that underwent consolidating and spotty editing over time.  Or perhaps it's merely me being confused, as happens now and again as I read through the Bible.  I have no problem admitting that.  I'm referencing this again because at one point God seems to be shifting toward the direction of what Christians believe Jesus represented, the whole point he appeared as a human, to act as the last sacrifice God ever needed.  Ezekiel is called to symbolically take on the sins of his fellow man.  It's less of a question that the shift between you and several generations after you being blighted by your sins as opposed to being able to be outright forgiven also happens to be featured here.  This occurs in the middle of a reprise of God giving detailed instructions to someone, which previously happened in the Noah and Moses narratives.

But then God enters righteous fury mode.