The River from the Temple

A thin line of water slips out from under a doorway. Just a trickle, glinting in the sun. You could step over it. But follow it. Because a little way on, it is up to your ankles. And then your knees.

It is the twenty-fifth year of the exile. The prophet Ezekiel is living far away in Babylonia, and Jerusalem's temple has lain in ruins for fourteen years. But God has given Ezekiel a vision of a new temple, and has shown him the glory of the Lord returning to fill it. A man who shines like bronze, holding a measuring line, has been guiding Ezekiel through every court and gate. Now the guide brings him back to the entrance of the temple. And Ezekiel notices something. Water. To understand why that matters, you need to know the land east of Jerusalem. The hills drop steeply down into the dry Judean wilderness, and at the bottom lies the Dead Sea, so salty that nothing can live in it.

The water is coming out from under the threshold of the temple, flowing east, past the south side of the altar. The guide leads Ezekiel out through the north gate and around the outside to the east gate, and there it is, trickling out on the south side. Then the man with the measuring line walks east and measures a thousand cubits, about half a kilometre, and leads Ezekiel through the water. It is up to his ankles. Another thousand: up to his knees. Another thousand: up to his waist. Another thousand, and now it is a river he cannot cross. The water has risen so deep you would have to swim. And no other streams have joined it. It just keeps growing. Then the guide asks him, “Son of man, hast thou seen this?”

They walk back along the bank, and now Ezekiel sees trees, lots of trees, on both sides of the river. And the guide explains. This water flows east, down into the desert valley, and into the sea. And when it reaches the sea, the salty water will be healed and made fresh. Wherever the river goes, every living creature that swarms will live. There will be great numbers of fish. Fishermen will stand along the shore, from En-gedi to En-eglaim, spreading out their nets to dry. The Dead Sea, full of fish like the Great Sea, the Mediterranean. Only the swamps and marshes will be left salty, so that people still have salt.

And then the most beautiful part. Along both banks of the river, every kind of fruit tree will grow. Their leaves will not wither, and their fruit will never fail. Every month they will bear fresh fruit, because the water that feeds them flows from the sanctuary, from the place where God lives. “And the fruit thereof shall be for meat, and the leaf thereof for medicine.” Food and healing. Life where there was death. And remember who heard this first: people living in exile, whose city was in ruins, who must have felt as dry and lifeless as that salty sea. God's message was that life flows out from where he is, and it grows deeper the further it goes, and it heals everything it touches.

The Dead Sea is the lowest place on land anywhere on earth, more than four hundred metres below sea level. Its water is about ten times saltier than the ocean, so salty that people float on it easily. No fish can live there, only tiny microbes. En-gedi, which Ezekiel names, is a real spring on its western shore, an oasis where David once hid from King Saul.

You'll find this vision in Ezekiel chapter forty-seven, verses one to twelve. A trickle from God's house that becomes a river of life. And at the very end of the Bible, in Revelation, John sees a river and a tree of life too, with leaves for healing. So here is a question to carry with you. Where in the world, or in your own life, would you love to see God's river bring new life?