Ezekiel 40 is the start of another of Ezekiel’s visions, in which he again visits his homeland of Israel. It takes place on a mountain by a city, which is presumably a way of referring to Jerusalem, and Ezekiel observes a new Temple. His guide in that building is a shining figure, who sounds something like the figures that moved God’s throne-chariot back in chapter one. This figure measures the Temple and declares the dimensions for Ezekiel to record, having calculated them using a stick a bit over ten feet long.

Interestingly, this vision is one of only two places where Ezekiel states the exact date an event took place, the tenth of Nisan, near the start of the Hebrew year that went from 573-572 B.C. The vision is twenty-five years after Ezekiel was taken from Jerusalem and Solomon’s Temple, and about thirteen years after the Temple’s destruction.

In its essence this vision allowed the exiles to look forward to a time when God’s people, again in the promised land, would have a renewed opportunity to worship God at a temple. The passage did not take shortcuts to describe this but went into minute detail. Rather than simply refer to the existence of a temple, we are told about its size and decorations as though the importance of fulfilling every detail is being emphasized. Using some effort, readers could put themselves in the scene alongside Ezekiel.

The building described in this text is quite large, and it is not a prophetic description of the Temple built in the time of Zerubbabel, after the Babylonian exile. Nor, apparently, did the returnees of that generation attempt to follow this design even when doing so would simplify their work. For example, 40:28-37 describes having three gates to the inner courts, and a Jewish Midrash says the second Temple had seven gates. In fact, the small number of gates, and the emphasis on large square rooms, raises the issue of the practicality of the design, and whether this was ever intended as a literal image of a building or just as a symbolic representation – the architectural equivalent of a parable, perhaps.

Ezekiel, as a priest who had ministered at Solomon’s Temple, would have a particular interest in the description this passage provides, whether it was symbolic or a future reality. But Ezekiel was not the High Priest, and even in his vision it seems that he does not enter the Holy of Holies, though he reports its dimensions (41:4). We hear nothing about the contents of that area.

I have written before about John’s measuring of the Temple in the book of Revelation, and how simple it can be for us when reading the figures in that passage to miss the time it would have taken to measure those distances. The same issue applies here. The long period when Ezekiel watched the shining figure go about this task, announcing number after number, can only have felt surreal. Obviously, this scene was leading somewhere, though learning what awaits tomorrow’s text. In the meantime, Ezekiel moved through a nearly empty building, large enough to hold thousands of people, simply recording its dimensions.

How often do you find yourself caught in a moment, feeling incomplete, unsure what comes next? At that time the exiles in Babylon were probably wondering what their next steps would be, and this vision was part of how God laid out expectations for them. Ezekiel, in his vision, must have found it obvious that what he saw was building toward a larger point, although he could have been recording measurements for hours. It may not always seem as obvious to us when God is at work in our lives, or how. But it is to be hoped that we can maintain trust that God is working. I don’t know how often we learn quickly or plainly what our next steps need to be. Sometimes Ezekiel waited years between his visions, visions that we can simply turn pages to link together. And the fulfillment of all that he saw in his visions waited far longer than a few years.

Regardless of all that Ezekiel went through, and how long it took, if the Bible revealed that somewhere along the way he decided not to pay attention to what God was doing with him, that it was not all worth it, we would consider him foolish. From our perspective in history such a choice would appear absurd. But sometimes we, and indeed sometimes I, need to be reminded of this same principle for ourselves. My trust, and my attentiveness for what interests God, need firming up. I can’t expect to maintain the same focus always and in every situation; no one can. Humans don’t have that kind of attention span and focus. I, and maybe you, need to be reoriented when necessary. At times we also need to realize that God still cares about us, continuing to be open and accepting despite our failings. The people God was telling about a new temple had their old one destroyed just 13 years earlier. God is open to offering forgiveness and acceptance, but more than being open to that, God strongly desires to provide it to us, in love.