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The first volume, By the River Chebar: Historical, Literary, and Theological Studies in the Book of Ezekiel, deals with broad issues of introduction and theology, including the ancient Near Eastern context of the book and the prophet. It also treats “specific texts that frame the first half of the book” (p. xi): Ezekiel’s call vision (“Text and Emotion: A Study in the ‘Corruptions’ in Ezekiel’s Inaugural Vision [Ezekiel 1:4–28]”) and the parable of the red-hot cauldron (“Ezekiel’s Boiling Cauldron: A Form-Critical Solution to Ezekiel 24:1–14”). For thematic reasons, though, Block places his treatment of the kingship parables of Ezekiel 17 and 19 (“The Tender Cedar Sprig: Ezekiel on Jehoiachin”) in his second volume, Beyond the River Chebar: Studies in Kingship and Eschatology in the Book of Ezekiel. That collection deals both with the end of the book (by and large, the essays concern material from the later chapters of Ezekiel), and with the end of time: Ezekiel’s view of kingship and of the place of the Davidic ruler in Israel’s future, the Gog apocalypse in Ezekiel 38–39, and the prophet’s final vision in Ezekiel 40–48. These volumes demonstrate the masterful combination of scholarly erudition and deep personal faith that characterize Block’s work. Each volume features helpful charts and illustrations, as well as subject, text, and author indices and a bibliography, which make this collection particularly accessible and reader-friendly.
The first volume concludes with a tribute to the ground-breaking Jewish scholar Moshe Greenberg, who died in 2010. But even without those words of praise, and the explicit acknowledgement of Greenberg’s work both in the prefaces and in the notes throughout these two volumes, his influence would be evident. Unlike much continental scholarship, which tends to break up the text of Ezekiel into multiple levels and layers of redaction, Block follows Greenberg in attempting, as much as possible, to find meaning and coherence in the text’s final form. Further, like Greenberg, Block makes this move because he is persuaded that the book as a whole derives, nearly in its entirety, from the prophet. So, for example, rather than resolving the many confusions and difficulties in Ezekiel’s initial vision report (ch. 1) through appeal to multiple redactions and scribal errors, Block convincingly attributes these features to the shattering nature of the prophet’s overwhelming experience of call. Similarly, Block reads the prophet’s final vision complex (chs. 40–48) as a unified “theological constitution for the new Israel” (Beyond the River, p. 172). But while Ezekiel 40–48 does read in its final form like a unified polity, the overall shift in mood from its descriptive, visionary sections (40:1–43:7a; 44:1–2; 47:1–12; 48:30–35) to its legislative portions (43:7b–27; 44:3–46:24; 47:13–48:29), as well as the overall grammatical shift from first person in the vision to second person in the legislation, suggest that an earlier temple vision has undergone editorial expansion. Qualifications of statements in Ezekiel’s vision (compare 43:7a with 43:7b–9; or 44:2 with 44:3) and outright contradictions (compare 40:44–46 with 44:6–14) further support the conclusion that these final chapters in particular cannot be read as a simple unit from the pen of the prophet.
A common conclusion of scholars engaged in the study of Ezekiel is that this prophet was not only literate, but also a literatus: a person of letters and learning who drew upon a range of ancient literary traditions to enrich his own literary work. Block’s mastery of the ancient Near Eastern literature that likely influenced Ezekiel is evident. A fine example is Block’s treatment of one of the more disturbing elements in Ezekiel’s prophecy: God’s rejection of Jerusalem and the departure of God’s glory from both the temple and the city (“Divine Abandonment: Ezekiel’s Adaptation of an Ancient Near Eastern Motif”). Block examines this motif against the backdrop of a broad range of texts, extending in date from the third millennium (BCE) “Curse of Agade” to the mid-sixth century BCE Cyrus Cylinder, and in form from poetic laments to royal autobiographical inscriptions. He uncovers a persistent understanding of divine abandonment as a judgment upon rebellious peoples, linked to the ancient practice of victors despoiling or taking into captivity the images of the gods of the vanquished. This background not only provides a cultural context for understanding Ezekiel’s visions, but also demonstrates the distinctiveness of the prophet’s message: “The God of Israel remained sovereign, not only over the fate of his people, but over his own destiny as well. . . . He would leave of his own will, under his own power, and for his own reasons” (By the River, p. 99).
Block’s evangelical Christian convictions are evident in this collection. Ezekiel’s final vision, for example, “prepares for the Messiah/Christ, who in his own person will replace both temple and altar. . . . In Christ, the ultimate sacrifice, heaven comes down and glory fills our souls. To God be the glory!” (Beyond the River, p. 196). Yet Block’s approach is not simplistically christological: he consistently strives to read this ancient book in its historical and cultural context. He is, however, also frank about approaching Ezekiel as Christian Scripture. So, for example, Block rightly observes that the temple vision in Ezekiel 40–43 resists being read either as a building program for Judah’s restoration after exile or as an eschatological vision of Israel’s final destiny. He concludes that these chapters present a spiritualized temple and introduce a theological affirmation regarding “the establishment of permanent, healthy deity-nation-land relationships” (Beyond the River, p. 172). Then, while realizing that this is a move that Ezekiel does not make, Block goes on to observe, “Ezekiel hereby lays the foundation for the Pauline spiritualization of the temple” (Beyond the River, p. 174).
On occasion, however, Block’s Christian faith seems to compel him to soft-peddle Ezekiel’s grim view of the divine. Although acknowledging that the book of Ezekiel never says that God loves Israel, Block insists that “The God Ezekiel Wants Us to Meet” (By the River, pp. 44–72) nonetheless does desire Israel’s redemption and liberation. Certainly, as Block states, Ezekiel’s God “suspends the rule of justice and restores his people despite their undeservedness” (By the River, p. 72). Yet for Ezekiel, God does what God does, not for Israel’s sake, but solely because of who God is, “that [they/you] might know that I am the L
