The Jordan Valley

The Promise Land is Near

The Watchman of Israel

8–12 minutes

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In the ancient Near East, a watchman was stationed on city walls or watchtowers with a singular responsibility: vigilance. He remained alert day and night, scanning the horizon for approaching enemies, messengers, or any sign of danger. When a threat appeared, he was expected to sound the trumpet or raise an alarm without delay.

The safety of the entire city rested on his attentiveness. If he failed to warn the people, the consequences could be catastrophic, not only for the city but also for the watchman himself, who would be held accountable for his silence. Silence, in the face of known danger, was itself a failure of duty.

…if the watchman sees the sword coming and does not blow the trumpet to warn the people and the sword comes and takes someone’s life, that person’s life will be taken because of their sin, but I will hold the watchman accountable for their blood.
Ezekiel 33:6 (NIV)

For a more relatable analogy, consider the lookout aboard the Titanic who first spotted the iceberg. His role was not to assess the impact, determine a corrective course, or doubt whether the crew or passengers might believe him, nor to speculate whether his warning would be taken seriously. His responsibility was simply to observe clearly and sound the alarm without delay. Had he recognised the danger and failed to react quickly, or chosen silence, the responsibility for the ship’s sinking and the loss of life would have rested on his hands.

Similarly, in the Bible the term watchman is used as a metaphor for spiritual responsibility, especially for prophets appointed by God to deliver a message of warning and issue a call for course correction to His people. God entrusts certain individuals with the task of warning others of impending judgement or danger, urging them toward repentance and obedience. The watchman is not accountable for how the people respond; acceptance or rejection rests with them. He is, however, fully accountable for proclaiming the warning clearly, and without alteration or omission.

Son of man, I have made you a watchman for the people of Israel; so hear the word I speak and give them warning from me.
Ezekiel 33:7 (NIV)

Why did God choose Ezekiel to be the watchman of Israel?

Ezekiel was already established as a prophet who heard the word of the LORD with clarity and precision, even while living among the exiles. God entrusted him with the role of watchman because he was willing to proclaim God’s message faithfully despite intense resistance. He was criticised by other prophets and false teachers, questioned and rejected by his contemporaries, and subjected to humiliating and demeaning acts designed to pierce the hearts of the people with God’s message. He bore these costs without compromise, even enduring the loss of his wife, which itself became a sign to the nation, illustrating the coming loss for which his countrymen would be unable to mourn. The watchman’s task demanded unwavering obedience rather than popularity, and Ezekiel proved ready to take on the role. God clearly defined the limits of his accountability. Ezekiel was not responsible for transforming the hearts of the people, but for delivering God’s warnings.

But if you do warn the wicked person to turn from their ways and they do not do so, they will die for their sin, though you yourself will be saved.
Ezekiel 33:9 (NIV)

Why do we try to control spiritual change in others instead of trusting God to work in their hearts?

We try to control spiritual change because we lack patience and seek visible, immediate results. We want transformation that can be seen and measured—something tangible that reassures our faith. When change is not outward or dramatic, we become restless and attempt to force what only God can accomplish.

Often, we expect another person’s growth to strengthen our spiritual confidence. As a result, we push for outcomes that fit our understanding, rather than trusting God to work in ways hidden from us. This leads to an emphasis on outward testimonies and observable behaviour, where credit subtly shifts from God to human effort. Paul reminds us that spiritual work unfolds in stages, not all of which we witness:

I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow.
1 Corinthians 3:6 (NIV)

Our role is obedience, not control. When we trust God, we learn to step back—allowing Him to work in hearts according to His wisdom and timing, even when the change is unseen. It is often difficult for people to let God work in another person’s life because of a deep-seated desire for control and visible results. We feel uneasy with slow, unseen transformation, so we intervene, believing that if we organise enough prayer meetings, mandate attendance at revival gatherings, or impose a strict culture of rules and regulations, we can accelerate change. This mindset assumes that external pressure can accomplish what only God can do—the renewal of the heart. In trying to manage outcomes, we confuse faithfulness with effectiveness and substitute trust in God’s work with confidence in our own methods.

At the root of this attitude of interference is a misunderstanding of our calling and responsibility. God has not called us to change hearts; that work belongs to Him alone. Scripture consistently shows that the role entrusted to God’s servants is to deliver His message clearly and truthfully, then step back and allow God to bring conviction and transformation in His time. When we go beyond that mandate—by coercing, manipulating, or controlling—we start becoming a stumbling block rather than a guide. What may appear as spiritual concern turns into spiritual pressure that burdens rather than restores.

Jesus Himself provides the clearest pattern. He taught with authority, lived with integrity, and invited people to follow Him, but He did not force or impose change through compulsion. He spoke truth, embodied it, and allowed individuals to respond freely, even when that response was rejection. His leadership was marked by invitation rather than coercion, example rather than enforcement. When we attempt to force transformation instead of modelling obedience and speaking truth in love, we step out of God’s lead and into His place.

Ultimately, interference often stems from impatience and fear—impatience with God’s timing and fear that inaction means failure. Yet true faithfulness lies in obedience, not control. When we deliver God’s message faithfully and leave the work of the heart to Him, we honour both God’s sovereignty and the dignity of the person. In doing so, we reflect the way of Christ: leading by example, speaking truth with clarity, and trusting God to accomplish what only He can do.

“Son of man, say to the Israelites, ‘This is what you are saying: “Our offenses and sins weigh us down, and we are wasting away because of them. How then can we live? ”’
Ezekiel 33:10 (NIV)

Do we recognise our sin and return to God, or ignore it and drift further from His presence?

For the first time in Ezekiel’s ministry—or at least for the first time recorded—the Israelites begin to grasp the seriousness of their offence and its consequences. The most difficult part is recognising how our sins weigh us down and prevent us from enjoying fellowship with God; over time, they gradually separate us from His presence altogether. This realisation is the first step on the journey back, yet we are often distracted by the weight of the world and fail to act on what we have recognised.

This is illustrated in the parable of the lost son: his realisation leads him to return home and restore fellowship with his father. Yet in the very next parable, the parable of the shrewd manager, the manager never truly recognises his sin and instead continues further down a destructive path. These two responses reflect the choices before us as well—either we understand the problem and take corrective steps back towards God, or we ignore it and continue to follow our own desires, walking further away from His presence.

Often, we settle for the minimum, using our own structures of edification to feel satisfied without fully coming to God. When confronted with sin, our first response is usually to justify ourselves rather than repent. Yet falling is not the issue. If we truly understand God, we will not remain where we are. Even after failure, we will rise and begin walking back toward Him. The real question is not whether we fall, but whether we turn and return.

Say to them, ‘As surely as I live, declares the Sovereign LORD, I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn from their ways and live. Turn! Turn from your evil ways! Why will you die, people of Israel?’
Ezekiel 33:11 (NIV)

God assure the people that He does not delight in the death of the wicked, but desires repentance and life. Each person is judged by their present response, not by past status: former righteousness does not excuse sin, and former wickedness does not condemn one who truly turns and does what is right. Though Israel accuses the Lord of injustice, He affirms that His judgement is fair, for He judges everyone according to their own ways.

Yet you Israelites say, ‘The way of the Lord is not just.’ But I will judge each of you according to your own ways.
Ezekiel 33:20 (NIV)

Why do we perceive that God’s ways as unjust?

The people accuse the LORD of being unfair because they judge His actions through the lens of their past status rather than their present conduct. They want former righteousness to excuse present sin and former wickedness to guarantee judgement, yet God judges each person according to their current ways. What appears unfair is, in truth, a refusal to accept personal responsibility and repentance.

A similar attitude is seen in Jonah, where Jonah criticises the LORD for sparing Nineveh. Jonah calls God “unfair” not because He is unjust, but because He is merciful—showing compassion to repentant sinners rather than punishing them as Jonah expected. In both cases, God’s justice is consistent and righteous, but it clashes with human expectations that seek entitlement, revenge, or exemption rather than repentance and obedience.

We often perceive God’s ways as unjust because of our possessive nature and spiritual ignorance. We tend to assume that God exists for us rather than recognising that we exist under Him. In doing so, we shrink the Lord of the universe into something manageable and familiar—treating Him as though He belongs to one religion, one region, or one group of people. Instead of acknowledging God as sovereign over all mankind, we reduce Him to a kind of regional politician, expecting Him to prioritise our interests, endorse our causes, and “pass laws” that benefit us. When God does not act according to our timetable or preferences, we interpret His restraint or patience as unfairness.

Yet God works in the lives of people in His own time and according to His own purposes. His concern is not limited to our immediate comfort or agenda, but to a far greater redemptive plan that often unfolds beyond our understanding. Our struggle arises when we attempt to interfere—when we try to control outcomes, hasten change, or force transformation where God is already at work.

In such moments, we may become stumbling blocks rather than instruments of grace. We must step back, trust in God’s timing, and allow Him to work as per His plans. We are called not to direct how God should work, but to become watchmen who observe and testify of God’s glory.

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