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Ezekiel 43 — God comes back through the same door he left by
8 min read
fresh.bible editorialFive words carry the weight of the entire chapter: 'I will accept you.' Every measurement, every sacrifice, every day of consecration exists for that sentence.
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This is the moment the entire book has been building toward. Back in chapters 8 through 11, watched the most devastating thing imaginable — the Glory of God physically departing from the in . Step by step, reluctantly almost, God's presence moved to the threshold, then to the east gate, then to the mountain east of the city. And then it was gone. The place that was supposed to house the living God stood empty.
Now, after decades of , after chapters of temple blueprints and precise measurements, after all the heartbreak and waiting — is led to the east gate. And what he sees there changes everything.
The guide who had been walking through this massive vision brought him to the gate facing east — the same direction the had departed years earlier. And then it happened:
Ezekiel saw the Glory of the God of Israel coming from the east. The sound of his coming was like the roar of many waters. The earth itself shone with his Glory. The vision was identical to what Ezekiel had seen when God came to judge the city — and identical to what he'd seen years before by the Chebar canal in Babylon. Ezekiel fell face-down on the ground.
As the Glory of the Lord entered the Temple through the east gate, the Spirit lifted Ezekiel up and brought him into the inner court. And the Glory of the Lord filled the Temple.
The same gate. The same direction. The same overwhelming, earth-shaking presence. God left through the east gate, and now he's coming back through the east gate. That's not a coincidence — it's a statement. He's finishing what he started.
And notice response. He didn't take notes. He didn't analyze. He hit the ground. When the actual presence of God shows up, there's nothing else to do. Some moments are too heavy to stand through.
While the guide stood beside , a voice spoke directly from inside the . God himself:
"Son of man — this is the place of my throne. This is where the soles of my feet rest. I will live here, in the midst of the people of Israel, forever.
The house of Israel will never again defile my holy name — not them, not their kings — through their unfaithfulness and through the corpses of their kings at their High Places. They set their doorstep right next to mine, their doorposts beside my doorposts, with only a wall between us. And then they defiled my holy name with the detestable things they did. So I consumed them in my anger.
Now let them put away their unfaithfulness and their kings' corpses far from me, and I will dwell in their midst forever."
Let that land for a moment. God is naming exactly what went wrong. The old Temple wasn't destroyed because of bad luck or military strategy. It fell because had treated God's space like it was just another building. They literally built royal tombs and pagan shrines right next to the Temple — separated by a single wall. Imagine setting up something profane right next to the most sacred space in existence. That's what they did.
But here's the part that should stop you: God still came back. He named every offense, held nothing back, and then said "I will dwell in their midst forever." The return isn't because they earned it. It's because he wanted to.
Then God gave a specific assignment:
"Son of man, describe this Temple to the house of Israel — so they'll be ashamed of their sins. Let them study the plan. And if they are ashamed of everything they've done, then show them the full design — the layout, the exits, the entrances, every detail. Make known all its rules and all its laws. Write it down where they can see it, so they'll follow every instruction and carry it out.
This is the law of the Temple: the entire territory on top of the mountain, all around, shall be most holy. This is the law of the Temple."
Here's something you might miss if you read quickly: the blueprint comes after the . God doesn't say "here are the rules, now feel bad about breaking them." He says "show them what I'm building — and when they see the gap between what I designed and what they settled for, they'll feel it on their own."
That's how real conviction works. It's not someone yelling at you about your failures. It's seeing what your life was supposed to look like and realizing how far you wandered. The design wasn't . It was an invitation — a picture of what life with God was always meant to be. And the whole mountaintop? . Every inch of it.
God then gave the exact measurements for the Altar — the centerpiece of in the :
"These are the measurements of the Altar in cubits — using the long cubit, which is a standard cubit plus a handbreadth: The base is one cubit high and one cubit wide, with a rim around the edge about nine inches wide.
From the ground to the lower ledge — two cubits high, one cubit wide. From the lower ledge to the upper ledge — four cubits high, one cubit wide. The Altar hearth rises another four cubits, with four horns projecting upward from the corners.
The hearth is square — twelve cubits by twelve cubits. The ledge is also square — fourteen by fourteen cubits, with a rim half a cubit wide and a base one cubit around. The steps face east."
If you're wondering why any of this matters, think about it this way: every dimension is intentional. God doesn't approximate. He doesn't say "build something nice." He specifies down to the handbreadth. The Altar was massive — roughly twenty feet square at the top, stepping up in tiers like a ziggurat. It was designed to be imposing, visible, unmistakable.
The steps face east — toward the gate where God's just entered. Everything in this Temple orients toward his presence. The architecture itself is a theology lesson: all of worship flows from and toward the God who showed up.
Finally, God laid out the process for the . It wasn't quick, and it wasn't simple:
God declared: "These are the instructions for the Altar. On the day it's set up for Burnt Offerings and for the application of blood, you will give the Levitical Priests from the family of Zadok — the ones authorized to approach me and serve me — a bull for a Sin Offering.
Take some of its blood and apply it to the four horns of the Altar, the four corners of the ledge, and the rim all around. This is how you purify the Altar and make Atonement for it. Then take the bull and burn it in the designated place outside the sacred area.
On the second day, offer a male goat without defect as a Sin Offering, and purify the Altar just as you did with the bull. Once the purification is complete, offer a bull without defect and a ram without defect. Present them before the Lord. The Priests will sprinkle salt on them and offer them as a Burnt Offering.
For seven days, provide a male goat daily as a Sin Offering, along with a bull and a ram — all without defect. For seven days they will make Atonement for the Altar, cleansing and consecrating it.
And when those seven days are finished — from the eighth day forward — the Priests will offer your Burnt Offerings and your Peace Offerings on the Altar. And I will accept you," declares the Lord God.
Seven full days. Not a weekend retreat. Not a quick . Seven days of blood, , purification, and — just to prepare the Altar before regular could even begin. Every day, a new . Every day, the same careful process of applying blood to horns and corners and rims.
Why so thorough? Because the gap between a holy God and a broken world doesn't close easily. isn't a smudge you wipe off. It takes something costly to bridge that distance. The blood, the salt, the — all of it pointed to a deeper reality: requires Sacrifice.
And then, on the eighth day — a new beginning. The number eight in often signals fresh starts, new creation. After seven days of dealing with what was broken, day eight is when the relationship finally opens up. . . And those final five words from God that carry the weight of the entire chapter: "I will accept you." That's what all of this was for. Not ritual for ritual's sake. Not rules for the sake of control. Every measurement, every drop of blood, every day of Consecration — all of it exists so that God and his people can finally be together again. And he will accept them.