. . . from Ezekiel 24:15-23:
The word of the LORD came to me:
Son of man, by a sudden blow . . .
. . . the Lord God to His man at the helm, as ever mincing no words . . .
I am taking away from you the delight of your eyes,
but do not mourn or weep or shed any tears.
Groan in silence, make no lament for the dead,
. . . The listener shudders . . .
. . . bind on your turban, put your sandals on your feet,
do not cover your beard, and do not eat the customary bread.
He grips his fist, grits his teeth, tells his listeners, barely able to say it . . .
That evening my wife died,
and the next morning I did as I had been commanded.
The people ask, what about us? He listens, the Lord God “says to the house of Israel,
I will now desecrate my sanctuary, the stronghold of your pride,
the delight of your eyes, the desire of your soul.
The sons and daughters you left behind shall fall by the sword.
If that sounds bad to you, you have got the message.
Ezekiel shall be a sign for you: all that he did you shall do when it happens.
To what end?
It’s how you shall know that I am the LORD.
. . . learning the hard way.
You shall do as I have done, not covering your beards or eating the customary bread. Your turbans shall remain on your heads, your sandals on your feet. You shall not mourn or weep, but you shall rot away because of your sins and shall groan . . .
Here they have the no-nonsense God, speaking through His priest Ezekiel, His ambassador to His chosen people . . .
Or, put another way, more concisely, by translator Knox (further modified), Ezekiel speaking:
The Lord came to me, said he was going to take from me what I love most, told me to shed no tear over it, give into no sighing, show no grief, engage in no mourning.
So it happened. In the morning I told people what He had said, my wife died at sunset. Next day, I did what the Lord had told me to do, and the people were all agog to know the meaning of what I did.
I told them, the Lord has spoken to me, giving me a message for the race of Israel: he means to profane his own sanctuary, that proud boast of yours, which you love so, trembling ever for its safety.
Sons and daughters of yours, left behind at Jerusalem, will die at sword’s point. As I do now, you will do then — no veils on your faces, no mourner look on you, rather heads covered, feet shod, from you neither dole nor lament, but each of you sighing in his neighbour’s ear, ever under the load of your guilt.
Again, God’s people learning the hard way . . .
Blithe Spirit 