As was often the case, the word of the LORD came to Ezekiel in the form of an allegory. He gave the example of two sisters who gave themselves over to the lust of the world, allowing the world to have its way with them. The elder sister was named Oholah, and the younger, Oholibah. From their youth they were involved in prostitution, and this pattern of unfaithfulness persisted throughout their lives—returning again and again, no matter how many times they were delivered from it.
They were mine and gave birth to sons and daughters. Oholah is Samaria, and Oholibah is Jerusalem.
Ezekiel 23:4 (NIV)
Samaria: The Elder Sister
Oholah, representing the Northern Kingdom with its capital in Samaria, was established first during the time of King Saul and had once pledged her allegiance to the LORD. Yet she pursued foreign alliances, which the LORD equates to prostitution, giving her loyalty and trust to the Assyrian Empire. Her attraction was not merely towards its political but she also adopted the idols and pagan practices of those nations.
“Therefore I delivered her into the hands of her lovers, the Assyrians, for whom she lusted.”
Ezekiel 23:9 (NIV)
Samaria fell in 722 BC to the Assyrians after years of political maneuvering. Israel’s kings repeatedly sought security through Assyria instead of trusting the LORD, even adopting Assyrian religious symbols and worship. The Assyrians, once courted as allies, became instruments of judgment—stripping the nation of its resources and exiling its people.
Why do nations turn to foreign powers for help in times of trouble?
Nations turn to foreign powers for help in times of trouble primarily out of necessity rather than trust. When disasters such as earthquakes or other calamities strike, a country may suddenly lack the resources, stability, or capacity to care for its own people. In such moments of weakness, neighbouring or powerful nations appear to offer immediate relief or protection.
However, this assistance is rarely without cost. Even in the modern world, when a nation seeks external help—whether to defend itself from an advancing neighbour or to remove an internal dictator—it often enters an unfair arrangement. The foreign power providing support typically demands something in return, frequently gaining access to and exploiting natural resources such as oil or rare earth minerals. What begins as help in a moment of crisis can therefore result in long-term dependency, loss of sovereignty, and the depletion of a nation’s wealth.
Is this pattern also reflected in our personal lives, when we look to the world for help rather than turning to God?
Turning to the world for help is very common because it is accessible, familiar, and feels like a viable, tangible option. People around us are visible, systems are immediate, and solutions appear practical and within reach. Yet, when we rely on people or worldly systems rather than turning to God, a hidden cost often follows. We may begin currying favour—adjusting our behaviour, softening our convictions, or placing ourselves in another’s debt. Once help is received, an obligation lingers, and we may not know when or how repayment will be demanded. What initially seemed like assistance can quietly turn into control, shaping our choices and limiting our freedom in ways we did not anticipate.
The same principle operates at a spiritual level. At times—out of desperation, impatience, or fear—we accept help that does not come from God. This may be unintentional, or at times knowingly chosen: adopting pagan practices, superstitions, or shortcuts in the hope of quick relief or immediate results. In these moments, satan exploits human desperation by offering what appears to be relief. What he gives temporarily, he later extracts at a far greater cost—draining faith, weakening conscience, and severing dependence on God. The end result is not freedom, but spiritual depletion: a life left dry, restless, and disconnected from the presence of the LORD.
Samaria’s fall should have served as a warning to the southern kingdom of Judah and its capital, Jerusalem, that reliance on worldly power does not lead to true security. That same warning stands for us today. Trust placed in anything outside of God—though it may appear effective for a time—ultimately leads to loss, enslaving us and leaving us open to manipulation. By contrast, God does not demand hidden repayment. He restores rather than exploits, sustains rather than drains, and graciously draws us back to the Tree of Life. Where worldly help binds, God’s help heals and gives life.
Jerusalem: The Younger Sister
The younger sister, representing Jerusalem, was established later, during the time of David. Though she witnessed her sister’s downfall, she failed to learn from it. Instead, her unfaithfulness surpassed that of the Northern Kingdom. She pursued the same foreign powers, first admiring Assyria and then extending her desire to Babylon, even being drawn by images and impressions before any direct alliance was formed. Though momentarily repelled by what defiled her, she did not repent. Instead, she became increasingly unrestrained, openly exposing herself and abandoning all restraint.
Central to her corruption was a distorted remembrance of Egypt. The past was not recalled as a place of bondage, but reimagined as something desirable. Generation after generation clung to an idealised memory of Egypt, almost as a fantasy—longing for what once enslaved them. This nostalgic fixation on Egypt fed her continued rebellion, as she looked backward for identity and satisfaction rather than forward in faithfulness to the LORD. Jerusalem’s sin was not merely political or moral, but a refusal to let go of the past and turning away from the God who had called her to be separate and faithful.
Why do we idealise the past instead of moving forward with God?
We idealise the past because of the attachment and passion we have developed toward it, and because the present path with God often feels uncertain and demanding. When the same level of comfort, success, or stability is not immediately available, the past begins to appear more attractive. At its root, this reveals a lack of faith—faith that God is able to lead us into something better, even when the way forward is unknown.
For Israel, priorities had shifted toward worldly wealth and convenience rather than closeness to God. Egypt, though a place of slavery, was remembered selectively. Hunger, hardship, and oppression were forgotten, while familiarity and provision were magnified. When memories are stored, they often become rosy, edited by emotion rather than truth. Trusting God in the present requires surrender, patience, and daily dependence, whereas the past asks nothing of us. It allows us to remain rooted in what is known rather than step forward on the path God sets before us. Ultimately, idealising the past distorts reality and hinders spiritual growth. God calls His people not to look back in longing, but to move forward in faith—choosing trust over nostalgia.
“You have gone the way of your sister; so I will put her cup into your hand.”
Ezekiel 23:31 (NIV)
The Sovereign LORD declares that Jerusalem will be handed over to the very nations she once pursued and later despised. These powers will act in hatred, stripping her of all she has gained and exposing the shame of her unfaithfulness. Her suffering is presented not as injustice, but as the direct consequence of her own choices—following the path of her sister Samaria and defiling herself with foreign nations and their idols. By placing Samaria’s cup in her hand, the LORD affirms that Jerusalem will share the same fate: a full measure of sorrow, disgrace, and desolation.
Complacency Leads to Our Spiritual Decline
The LORD commands Ezekiel to confront Oholah and Oholibah with their crimes. Their guilt is twofold: spiritual adultery through idolatry and bloodshed through the sacrifice of their own children. At the same time, they defiled the LORD’s sanctuary and desecrated His Sabbaths, treating sacred worship as compatible with grave sin. They actively sought foreign lovers, adorning themselves and using what belonged to the LORD to entice them. Surrounded by corruption and excess, they reduced themselves to objects of exploitation. As a result, righteous judgment is pronounced against them as adulterous and violent women deserving punishment.
“So I will put an end to lewdness in the land, that all women may take warning and not imitate you. You will suffer the penalty for your lewdness and bear the consequences of your sins of idolatry. Then you will know that I am the Sovereign LORD.”
Ezekiel 23:48–49 (NIV)
Why do we struggle to recognise the Sovereign LORD in times of blessing, but acknowledge Him through punishment?
We struggle to recognise the Sovereign LORD in times of blessing because contentment creates the illusion of control, while punishment exposes our dependence. In times of prosperity, life feels manageable and God is easily pushed to the background. Success is credited to planning, effort, or favourable circumstances, and the need for God seems less urgent. How deeply we acknowledge Him often depends on how much fear or uncertainty we feel about the future. Blessing is also frequently misread as approval. People may continue in sin while claiming that God is blessing them, or argue that living according to the world is what God desires.
This was true of Samaria and Jerusalem. Long periods of stability led them to trust political alliances, human strategies, and religious routines rather than the LORD Himself. Blessing was mistaken for security, and faithfulness slowly gave way to confidence in worldly power. Punishment removed those false supports. When judgment came and alliances failed, the people were left alone with the reality they had ignored: the LORD alone governs their rise and fall.
Loss revealed what prosperity had hidden—misplaced trust and divided loyalty. It restores dependence on God and exposes the emptiness of every substitute. Ezekiel’s warning still stands: blessing should draw us closer to the LORD, not cause us to forget Him.
The Jordan Valley 
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