Ezekiel’s God in pursuit of recognition: A catalyst for self-transformation

Abstract

This article explores the recurring refrain ‘Then you shall know that I am the Lord’, which appears over 70 times in the book of Ezekiel, serving as a primary driving force behind God’s actions and intentions throughout history. The article examines how this formula reflects God’s concern about his perception and the level of respect accorded to him, leading to a tendency to revise plans and decisions, and even contradict previous principles. Key examples explored include the retrospective review in Ezek. 20 and God’s confronting entities like Gog of Magog (ch. 39) and the nation of Seir (ch. 35). Ultimately, the recognition formula reveals God’s responsive nature, influenced by others’ perceptions, portraying God as a self-aware entity eager for acknowledgment. This perspective challenges entrenched beliefs about the unchanging nature of the biblical deity, often erroneously associated with the immutable mover of classical philosophy.

1. To know an existing object

Ezekiel scholars have long noted the frequent occurrence of a refrain within the book’s theological framework, which demands the identification of God, or his essence, ‘I am’, with the name יהוה‎, (Yhwh), usually translated as ‘the Lord’ (e.g., ‘Then you shall know that I am the Lord’, וידעתם כי-אני יהוה‎, Ezek. 7.4; cf. 11.10; 12.15; 13.14; 14.8; 16.62; 20.42; 25.11; 28.22; 30.8; 34.27; 35.12; 36.36; 39.28). Referred to in scholarship as the recognition formula, this refrain appears more than 70 times in the book, with slight variations in pronouns and prepositions. While it might be possible to trace the source of the refrain, ¹ its unique application within the book of Ezekiel is notable and warrants further examination.

Despite its prevalence, the succinct refrain that identifies ‘I am’ with ‘the Lord’ is enigmatic. ² What the character of this knowledge is and why it is required are far from clear. ³ It remains ambiguous, for example, what the nature of this knowledge is—whether it is an understanding of the entity’s powers, attributes, or reputation, or simply an awareness of its existence (cf. Isa. 11.9; Jer. 9.24; 24.7; Hos. 6.6). However, it is clear what the demand does not intend: it does not imply acquiring knowledge and comprehension akin to God’s (e.g., Ps. 147.5; Prov. 15.3; Job. 28.24), or an understanding of the ways of the world by any means (e.g., Gen. 2.9; 3.5–7), or learning through reasoning, studying, inquiring, or deducing (e.g., Prov. 2.1–6; Eccl. 7.25; 12.12).

In contrast to modern concepts of gaining knowledge, ⁴ the occurrences of the demand to ‘know that X is Y’ in Ezekiel’s varied contexts reveal an idea of instilling an image of X in the eyes of the subjects based on X’s deeds and performance. Nonetheless, the syntax of the refrain is ambiguous regarding which element in the equation serves as the signifier and which as the signified: ‘I am’ or ‘the Lord’ (Yhwh). In other words, it is unclear what new information the addressees need to internalize as opposed to what they are already familiar with.

This ambiguity invites an epistemological discussion regarding the correlation between knowledge and acknowledgement, suggesting that existing knowledge regarding an object may facilitate an acknowledgment of the object’s other elements or its very essence. The premise of identifying a target as either ‘I am’ or ‘the Lord’ could reflect the idea that this object is comprehensible and defined, possessing certainty and unchangeability in nature. As articulated by Zimmerli, the insistence on acknowledging God suggests an image of him which is inherently consistent: ‘Self-introduction is the form of self-revelation of a person in his name—a self-revelation in which all other possible qualifications fall into the background before the unchangeable uniqueness of the person who lays himself open to call by his name. Because it concerns this free self-communication of a person, there belongs to this process of self-introduction an unchangeable tendency’. ⁵

Indeed, numerous paradigmatic-like statements in the Hebrew Bible depict the deity as immutable and unwavering throughout eternity. Psalm 90 articulates this notion: ‘Before the mountains were brought forth … from everlasting to everlasting’ (Ps. 90.2). ⁶ Second Isaiah similarly emphasizes that ‘The Lord is … the creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable’ (Isa. 40.28). Unbound by temporal and spatial constraints, God’s eternal nature transcends human existence, as affirmed in Malachi: ‘For I the Lord do not change’ (Mal. 3.6a). God is posited to be inherently consistent and steadfast, unaffected by earthly affairs, including those within the human sphere. This concept is also implied in God’s declaration to Moses regarding his nature: ‘I am who I am’ (Exod. 3.14), conveying that God is self-recognized and exists independently.

However, the tradition that seeks external recognition for this entity—namely, to know that ‘I am who I am’ and, in the words of the recognition formula, that ‘I am the Lord’—can lead to an alternative understanding of the entity’s nature. As a result of seeking acknowledgment, this entity evaluates and reconsiders its choices and methods of engagement with the world, aiming to influence people’s perceptions externally. In contrast to the assertion ‘I the Lord do not change’ (Mal. 3.6), the recognition formula may suggest a tendency toward inconsistency in God’s nature. This notion is evident in Ezekiel’s prophecies, which indicate that in response to people’s lack of awareness of God, various efforts are made by God to actively instill knowledge of him within them.

2. Methods to instill acknowledgment of God

A central concern in the Hebrew Bible is how one can come to know the deity without encountering him directly. This question has long preoccupied theologian scribes. One answer proposed in the Psalms posits that natural phenomena are a means of knowing God. Thus, the heavens (שמים, רקיע‎) bear witness to God’s work, proclaiming his glory and handiwork, despite their lack of verbal testimony: ⁷ ‘The heavens are telling the glory of God, and the firmament proclaims his handiwork’ (Ps. 19.1; cf. 8.3–4; 33.6–7; 104.10–14, 24–26). Other methods of knowing God include ‘rumors’, which include narratives about his actions throughout history, combined with an understanding of his commandments. Psalm 78 exemplifies this by emphasizing that God is recognizable through the laws and narratives passed down from the ‘first generation’, who witnessed firsthand the ‘wonders’ (נפלאות‎, v. 4) of God (Ps. 78.4–6).

In Ezekiel’s retrospective review in chapter 20, there is an active effort to cultivate an acknowledgment of God. Unlike chapters 16 and 23, which use allegorical language, this passage evaluates the people’s past in literal terms, emphasizing the diverse methods through which God endeavored to introduce and teach his name. According to this review, the self-revelation of God has been the primary impetus behind God’s decisions and actions throughout history and in the people’s lives.

Ezekiel 20 recounts that back in Egypt, God was known to the people of Israel and swore to them (v. 5). Whether intentionally or not, this narrative diverges from the traditional account in the book of Exodus, where God’s revelation is exclusively associated with Moses (e.g., Exod. 3.13; 4.1, 12, 30–31; 5.1, 23; 6.13). ⁸ Loewenstamm (1992) denies the possibility that the text contradicts the Exodus tradition. ⁹ However, Ezekiel’s review indicates that God’s direct revelation marked the sole and final unmediated interaction with Israel, acknowledged even by other nations (Ezek. 20.9). This tradition not only diverges from the narrative of God’s exclusive revelation to Moses, but also challenges the tradition of divine revelation at Sinai (cf. Exod. 19.18–20; 20.18; Deut. 5.3–5).

According to the Ezekiel review, soon after the revelation in Egypt, the people violated the instructions given to them there, instructions aimed at deterring them from worshipping the idols of Egypt: ‘“and do not defile yourselves with the idols of Egypt; I am the Lord your God”. But they rebelled against me and would not listen to me; not one of them cast away the detestable things on which their eyes feasted, nor did they forsake the idols of Egypt’ (Ezek. 20.7–8a). Consequently, the people’s disobedience put them at risk of destruction even while they were still in Egypt: ‘Then I thought I would pour out my wrath upon them and spend my anger against them in the midst of the land of Egypt’ (v. 8b). However, God ultimately refrained from this course of action in order to safeguard his name: ‘But I acted for the sake of my name, that it should not be profaned in the sight of the nations among whom they lived, in whose sight I made myself known to them in bringing them out of the land of Egypt’ (v. 9). ¹⁰ Nonetheless, as a result of their disobedience, a direct encounter with the people did not recur thereafter.

Henceforth, as emphasized in the Ezekiel review, the concept of ‘the sake of my name’ (למען שמי‎) became a pivotal consideration in upholding the relationship between the people and God, thus ensuring the survival of the community (vv. 14, 22, 44). However, with the cessation of direct encounters and the absence of subsequent revelations, God sought alternative means to secure recognition from his subjects—both his people and others. Consequently, history unfolds as a series of efforts aimed at securing such recognition in the absence of direct revelation.

The primary method for acquiring knowledge of God, as outlined in the Ezekiel 20 review, was through the laws provided for the people. God introduced ordinances and statutes for them to ‘live’ by (וחי בהם‎, Ezek. 20.11), as a means to foster awareness of his role in their lives: ‘so that they might know that I the Lord sanctify them’ (v. 12b; cf. v. 20). In the absence of seeing God, awareness of him now depended on the people’s ‘sanctification’ through laws and Sabbaths. However, despite God’s efforts, ‘the house of Israel’ continued to violate divine instructions (v. 13a), indicating that the dissemination of God’s presence through laws had not achieved its intended effect. Consequently, God concluded that further action was necessary ‘for the sake of [his] name’ (v. 14). As we shall see, the subsequent actions of God in response to the behavior of the people reflect his steady and ongoing willingness to amend his plans and adjust his intentions.

3. Inconsistency and changeability

In a monograph on the divine kingship motif in Ezekiel, Clark (2014) points out that Ezekiel’s review attests to ‘Yhwh’s consistency’, portraying a pattern of divine sovereignty and grace that stands in contrast to the rebellion of his subjects: ‘One of the key rhetorical strategies in this unit is to contrast Yahweh’s consistently faithful and honorable character with Israel’s consistently unfaithful and dishonorable character’. ¹¹ However, one can argue for a completely opposite conclusion regarding the character of the deity which emerges from Ezekiel 20’s retrospective review. In the absence of any obvious intention by God to assist or protect his subjects, the evolving considerations and changes of mind seem to be ultimately driven by God’s concern for his name. His tendency toward ad hoc reactions leads to changing strategies and updated expectations. Joyce (2007) hints at this tendency in his commentary, stating that ‘a wide range of permutations is to be found, the consistent factor being that the formula is always associated with the account of an action of YHWH’, ¹² connecting God’s activity to his pursuit of recognition.

The next section in the retrospective review recounts that when the provision of statutes and ordinances to the people in the desert does not prove effective (Ezek. 20.10–13), on their way to the ‘land’ (v. 6), God makes an oath to keep the people in the wilderness, thereby preventing their arrival in the intended land: ‘I swore to them in the wilderness that I would not bring them into the land that I had given them, a land flowing with milk and honey, the most glorious of all lands’ (v. 15). This decision constitutes a striking reversal of his previous oath, using the same oath language, נשא יד‎, which appears earlier in his decision to locate the people in their own land (נשאתי ידי להם… אל ארץ אשר תרתי להם‎, v. 6). Intriguingly, such a dramatic change was already presaged during the time in Egypt when God contemplated annihilating the very people he had recently established (v. 8), almost renouncing his oath to be their God (ואשא ידי לזרע בית יעקב… ואשא ידי להם לאמר אני יהוה אלהיכם‎, v. 5).

During their stay in the wilderness, following another disappointment with the second generation of the people, God swears another oath to the people, looking ahead to future times. God withholds his hand and does not destroy Israel in the wilderness (והשבתי את ידי‎, v. 22), but swears that he will scatter and disperse the people among the nations in the future (v. 23). This, once again, reveals God’s alternating plans and strategies. Moreover, the new oath signifies a fundamental shift in the method of divine punishment. Whereas earlier God acted against the noncompliant subjects themselves, the new response involves subjects who do not yet exist. These future generations will suffer as a consequence of the strained relationship of their ancestors.

Indeed, this delayed punishment of future generations contradicts another theological principle conveyed in the prophecies of Ezekiel, which emphasize retribution against sinners rather than their descendants (cf. 3.17–21; 14.12–20; 18.2–24; 33.7–20). This potential discrepancy between the two concepts is resolved in the Ezekiel 20 review through the introduction of a complex means of vengeance: the provision of ‘statutes that were not good and ordinances by which they could not live’ (חקים לא טובים ומשפטים לא יחיו בהם‎, Ezek. 20.25). These laws are designed to perpetuate transgressions in future generations, ensuring that subsequent offspring also fall under the same judgment. ¹³ Among these laws that lead to transgressions lies the infamous commandment to sacrifice the firstborn (v. 26). This command contrasts starkly with the original livable laws outlined earlier, ‘by whose observance everyone shall live’ (vv. 11–12; cf. the identical phrasing in the Holiness Code in Lev. 18.5). The transition to new ‘not good’ and unlivable laws (v. 25) signals a profound shift and another change in God’s expectations and disposition. This transformation is driven by the overriding concern to establish his name among his subjects, indicating the central role of recognition and obedience in the divine-human relations.

The same rationale is applied in subsequent phases, particularly after the return from exile, which is justified as a means to preserve acknowledgment of Yhwh (vv. 35–44; cf. 28.25; 29.6; 36.20–23, 33–38). During this period, individuals of the nation will be judged, and the rebellious will be left in the wilderness (20.38), echoing the fate of their ancestors during the previous exodus (v. 15). Upon returning to the land, the congregation will witness the display of God’s ‘mighty hand and outstretched arm’ and experience the ‘out-pouring’ of his wrath (vv. 33–34). These manifestations are intended to perpetuate God’s name, as emphasized in the verse: ‘And you shall know that I am the Lord when I deal with you for my name’s sake…’ (v. 44; cf. v. 41). Through this replication of the ancient exodus from Egypt, the contemporary return from Babylon prioritizes the exaltation of God’s name over his stability and consistency.

The variability in God’s verdicts and decisions in the retrospective review of Ezekiel aligns with the persona of the deity as illustrated in the narrative framework of the book of Ezekiel, particularly through the chariot-throne imagery. This imagery suggests an entity which dynamically undergoes shapeshifting and transformations, adapting forms and approaches in response to circumstances (e.g., Ezek. 1:4, 5–18, 19–21, 28; 3:12–13; 8:2, 4; 9:3; 10:1, 4, 18–19; 11:22–23; cf. 43:2–5). A similar portrayal of the deity is found in the allegorical narratives of chapters 16 and 23, where God is vividly depicted as transitioning from a nurturing and adoptive figure, demonstrating care and affection, to one driven by disappointment and vengeance, displaying wrath and retribution through abandonment (e.g., 16:6–7, 8–14, 37–41; 23:4, 9, 18, 36–37, 46). The visions and metaphors highlight the inherent power of the deity to transform himself, primarily prompted by his concerns regarding self-image, name, and sovereignty. Amid these transformations, there remains a glimmer of hope for the people’s restoration (e.g., 16:60–63; 23:48); however, this restoration is facilitated through penalization and does not demonstrate care and affection for them. This dynamic is also evident in the accounts of God’s confrontations with Israel’s enemies.

4. Divine recognition and lack of care for the people

Block’s analysis (1997) suggests interpreting God’s apparently self-centered motivation in the prophecies of Ezekiel within the context of the outcomes of God’s actions, ultimately for the sake of Israel. While acknowledging that God’s main concern is indeed the preservation of his honor and reputation, ¹⁴ Block asserts that God’s actions nonetheless result in grace being bestowed upon the people, as evident in the facilitation of restoration (e.g., Ezek. 34.11–16; 36.24–28; 37.1–14, 15–28; 39.25–29). ¹⁵ This assertion is elaborated upon in Block’s later work (2015), where he points out that the rare instances of God’s ‘pity’ for Israel serve as ‘a gracious divine act from start to finish’, illustrating the intention to redeem the people. ¹⁶ According to Block, since Yhwh does not wait for a positive response from the people, his conduct toward restoration offers ‘a working definition of grace’. ¹⁷

In a similar vein, Ganzel (2010) highlights the positive aspects found in the prophecies following the fall of Jerusalem. She identifies a profound sense of ‘mercy’ in Yhwh’s self-characterization in 39.25: ‘Now I will restore the fortunes of Jacob and have mercy on the whole house of Israel, and I will be jealous for my holy name’. According to Ganzel, this provides ‘a promise of restoration and compassion to a people ravaged by exile and despair’. ¹⁸

Similarly, Carvalho (2015) identifies a positive attitude toward Israel within the broader context of the citation mentioned above, detailing God’s eschatological defeat of the enigmatic Gog of Magog. ¹⁹ Yahweh’s decision to engage in battle with Gog is in response to Gog’s mistreatment of Israel, demonstrating, according to Carvalho, divine intervention motivated by concerns for justice and righteousness. This represents a positive turn that fulfills the promised ‘covenant of peace’ mentioned in 34.25 and 37.26. God’s display of pity toward Israel in 39.25 serves as a further instance of a favorable divine emotion being expressed toward the nation, especially as God’s violence is solely directed toward Gog the enemy, without inflicting harm on Israel. This portrayal of God in the Gog narrative is, according to Carvalho, one of the more encouraging depictions in the book of Ezekiel, without undermining the overall portrayal of Yhwh throughout the text. Through this point, Carvalho too addresses the question regarding the extent of God’s consistency, asserting that the arrival of God’s final solution ‘is not because of a change in God’. ²⁰ Instead, as she argues, God maintains consistency throughout, while the context indicates an explicit ‘change’ of the victim.

It is notable, however, that like the narratives elaborating on God’s treatment of Israel as his nation, the depiction of God’s defeat of Israel’s enemy is also overshadowed by the recurring theme of concern for God’s name. While it is true that the text mentions ‘mercy on the whole house of Israel’ (39.25a), the action is ultimately driven by God’s zeal for the sanctity of his name: ‘and I will be jealous for my holy name’ (39.25b; cf. 36.21, 22; 43.7, 8). This underscores the driving force behind God’s action, as stated earlier in the chapter: ‘I will send fire on Magog and on those who live securely in the coastlands, and they shall know that I am the Lord’ (39.6). Moreover, the impact of this action extends to both Israel and ‘the nations’, as affirmed in the following verse: ‘My holy name I will make known among my people Israel, and I will not let my holy name be profaned any more, and the nations shall know that I am the Lord, the Holy One in Israel’ (v. 7). The battle thus serves as an opportunity to demonstrate God’s presence and ensure his acknowledgment, appreciation, and protection from sacrilege. ²¹

This tendency is further exemplified in the case of God’s battle against an opposite type of rival—the familiar earthly entity, the neighboring Seir. In Ezek. 35, the core of the speech attributes the need for the divine battle against Seir to their longstanding hostility and harm toward Israel. This ‘ancient enmity’ (איבת עולם‎, 35.5) is God’s motivation for punishing Seir, as they caused Israel to fall ‘to the power of the sword at the time of their calamity’ (35.5). Additionally, God’s confrontation with Seir is due to their arrogant intention to take possession of Israel’s land and incorporate it into their own territory (את שני הגוים ושתי הארצות לי תהיינה‎, v. 10).

However, as the land is first and foremost considered the location of God’s presence (ויהוה שם היה‎, ‘although the Lord was there’, v. 10), Seir’s acquisitive ambition appears primarily as an affront to the dignity of Yhwh. Accordingly, Seir’s ‘abusive speech’ (נאצותיך‎, v. 12) against the mountains of Israel is interpreted as highly contemptuous and injurious toward God: ‘You shall know that I, the Lord, have heard all the abusive speech that you uttered against the mountains of Israel, saying, “They are laid desolate; they are given us to devour”. And you magnified yourselves against me with your mouth and multiplied your words against me; I heard it’ (vv. 12–13). While the judgment underscores vengeance as the basis for the battle, the primary motivation is to make God great again, by ensuring he is ‘known’ among this people: ‘and I will make myself known among you [MT: among them, בם‎] when I judge you’ (v. 11b). ²² Indeed, when God confronts this adversary due to the latter’s anger and envy (v. 11a), there is no proclaimed intention to improve the condition of Israel. Nowhere in the discourse is it suggested that the battle aims to assist or restore God’s people, either physically or morally. Despite the justification for revenge, the battle remains disconnected from Israel’s fate. ²³

The ultimate purpose of the battle against Seir is encapsulated in the chapter’s final note: ‘Then they shall know that I am the Lord’ (v. 15). The LXX version of this passage emphasizes that the required knowledge pertains not only to the deity’s name but also to his commitment to the nation, by implication, Israel: καὶ γνώσῃ ὅτι ἐγώ εἰμι κύριος ὁ θεὸς αὐτῶν (‘Then they shall know that I am the Lord their God’, v. 15). This redirects the focus to God’s special connection with Israel, yet it does not explain how these actions yield any advantage for the nation. Moreover, elsewhere in Ezekiel’s prophecies, it is suggested that Israel can attain peace and redemption without the need to engage in additional conflicts. This is expressed in the preceding literary context:

I will make with them a covenant of peace and banish wild animals from the land, so that they may live in the wild and sleep in the woods securely. I will make them and the region around my hill a blessing, and I will send down the showers in their season; they shall be showers of blessing. The trees of the field shall yield their fruit, and the earth shall yield its increase. They shall be secure on their soil, and they shall know that I am the Lord when I break the bars of their yoke and save them from the hands of those who enslaved them. They shall no more be plunder for the nations, nor shall the animals of the land devour them; they shall live in safety, and no one shall make them afraid (34.25–28; cf. Lev. 26.6).

Accordingly, the battles against Seir and Gog of Magog are not aimed at Israel’s restoration. Their primary purpose lies in preserving God’s renowned name through a demonstration of his power, establishing his name in the hearts and minds of people and nations. ²⁴ The pursuit to be known justifies any kind of performance by God in the world, as there is no such thing as bad publicity for God. This includes destruction, which is deemed an effective method to instill acknowledgment and recognition of God’s authority (Ezek. 35.4, 9, 11, 12, 15; 39.6–9, 21).

The motivation for recognition surpasses any concern for the well-being of the protégé. Regarding the theme of Israel’s restoration according to Ezekiel, Tiemeyer (2010) asserts that it is ‘entirely loveless. As there is no love, there is very little in terms of forgiveness, consolation, or comfort in Ezekiel. In the rare cases where these words are used, the intention is sarcasm’. ²⁵ Similarly, Evans (2019) stresses that as the focus is on God’s vindication and the potential injury to his honor, ‘the note of grace is missing’. ²⁶

This supposition contradicts the interpretation suggested in the Brown-Driver-Briggs lexicon (BDB) of the phrase ‘for the sake of my name’ (למען שמי‎), as discussed under the entry שם‎ (name). The lexicon suggests understanding the phrase in light of statements in other prophecies, such as Jer. 14.7, 21; Amos 2.7; and Mal. 1.11–12, regarding the profanation of God’s ‘name’, interpreting it as an expression of hope that God acts in alignment with his attributes of compassion and salvation. ²⁷ However, the examination above points toward a different interpretation altogether. The declarations in Ezekiel are exclusively articulated by God and predominantly focus on God’s self-image and reputation, necessitating the people’s acceptance and recognition, rather than prioritizing their well-being and interests through compassion and salvation.

This tendency contrasts intriguingly with the dynamic depicted in other prophecies of the time, particularly in those of Jeremiah, who sees Yhwh’s judgments as intimately tied to the actions of human beings. Jeremiah portrays a pedagogical process where God’s conduct is shaped by the behavior of nations or kingdoms, following a thorough examination of their actions:

At one moment I may declare concerning a nation or a kingdom that I will pluck up and break down and destroy it, but if that nation, concerning which I have spoken, turns from its evil, I will change my mind about the disaster that I intended to bring on it. And at another moment I may declare concerning a nation or a kingdom that I will build and plant it, but if it does evil in my sight, not listening to my voice, then I will change my mind about the good that I had intended to do to it (Jer. 18:7–10)

This contrasts with the view in Ezekiel’s prophecies, according to which God’s actions and reactions are inherently inconsistent and capricious due to his singular and ultimate purpose: to introduce and foster recognition. Moreover, as the object of knowledge, the god of Ezekiel is profoundly influenced by the extent to which he is acknowledged and understood, and his plans and intentions are therefore always subject to review and revision.

5. Conclusions: The imperative of recognition

Scholars have often described the recognition formula in Ezekiel’s prophecies as monotonous or stereotyped due to its frequent occurrence in the prophet’s discourse. ²⁸ However, it should also be viewed as revealing important aspects of the deity’s essence, perceived by both the prophet and the potential recipients of these prophecies.

Rather than serving as an anthropomorphic device with symbolic functions, ²⁹ the recognition formula in Ezekiel portrays Yhwh as a concrete entity—a protagonist who reacts in response to the perceptions of people. This portrayal depicts Yhwh as possessing self-awareness and a sense of self-worth, both of which are influenced by how his subjects and others perceive him. These perceptions have the power to sway Yhwh’s plans and intentions, prompting him to reconsider his actions ad hoc. Contrary to the concept of an unchanging deity, it becomes evident that the plans and considerations of the deity in the book of Ezekiel primarily demonstrate a tendency to be influenced and changeable.

This image of the deity in the book of Ezekiel stands in stark contrast to the concept of the unmoved deity as defined in Aristotle’s cosmology (ὃ οὐ κινούμενον κινεῖ). Aristotle’s unmoved mover is posited as the cause of all processes in the cosmos, setting the universe in motion, while remaining unaffected by these changes. ³⁰ In contrast, according to Ezekiel, Yhwh is far from indifferent to events in his ‘cosmos’ or world. He is profoundly influenced by the behavior of those around him, particularly by the extent to which they recognize his presence and acknowledge his actions. This recognition is paramount to his choices and actions. As such, Yhwh can be seen as the moved mover, whose plans and strategies are in constant flux, driven by an insatiable yearning for validation and reverence.

From the distress of the congregation in exile to the cosmic battles against enigmatic foes, God’s primary pursuit is not the welfare of his people, but rather the establishment and preservation of his esteemed name. This orientation reveals vulnerability and indecision regarding the methods to ensure respect and acknowledgment from those around him. This intensive engagement with the notion of acknowledgment not only reflects the authors’ concern that people’s perceptions might impact God’s actions, but also reveals their fear that confidence in the divine role and presence could be undermined in an ever-changing world.