“As the appearance of the bow that is in the cloud in the day of rain, so was the appearance of the brightness round about. This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the LORD. And when I saw it, I fell upon my face, and I heard a voice of one that spoke.”
(Ezekiel 1:28)
In this first chapter of Ezekiel, the prophet describes his vision of God’s overwhelming glory—a breathtaking display that transcends language and comprehension. The prophet attempts to share what he experiences using such images as a whirlwind, a great cloud with raging fire engulfing itself, and a brightness around it that mirrors the appearance of a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day. This scene, marking the likeness of the glory of the Lord, leaves Ezekiel utterly astounded, compelling him to fall on his face in reverence and awe.[1]
Ezekiel’s encounter with God serves as a poignant reminder of the only position we can take in the presence of the Almighty. Ezekiel’s immediate response—to fall on his face—represents the natural posture of every soul who truly catches a glimpse of God’s infinite greatness, holiness, majesty, and sovereignty.
True humility embodies both a submissive spirit and a modesty of mind that extends to how we perceive and interact with our world. And it rewards those who embrace it with blessing and honor (Matt. 5:5, 23:12). Humility invites a recognition of our own limitations and a genuine openness to learn and grow from experiences and the people around us. Authentic biblical humility is not to be confused with weakness in any sense. Rather it is a strength of soul that allows us to live a life marked by compassion, empathy, selflessness, and a readiness to serve rather than be served.
Humility begins in the heart but is then manifested through one’s circumstances, as noted in the biblical examples of Ezekiel, the Virgin Mary, Christ, Paul and the other Apostles. For despite their significant spiritual roles, they embraced lives of simplicity and service. This dual humility—of both heart and condition—underscores the essence of true humility: a voluntary lowering of oneself for the benefit of others.
If we are to answer the call to biblical humility, we must consciously reject any presence of pride and ego that lurk in the corners of our heart and, instead, with full joy embrace a path of service and self-sacrifice. For the secret to true greatness lies in our ability to remain humble in spirit, attitude, and behavior, no matter the circumstance, and to live in such a way that demonstrates love, service, and respect to our great God and for those He has put in our world.
Contemplations:
- A Vision of the Almighty: Reflecting on Ezekiel 1:28, I am reminded of the awe-inspiring nature of God’s presence. Whenever and wherever I may encounter His glory I am compelled to acknowledge His supremacy as well as my own deficiencies.
- The Humility of Recognition: Ezekiel’s vision teaches me that heartfelt humility arises from recognizing God’s infinite glory and, consequently, my own human frailties. This humility helps me understand my rightful place in the universe and before God, its Creator. At the same time, it also elevates my appreciation of His great love for me.
- Responding to God’s Majesty: Ezekiel’s response to his vision—fear, awe, and surrender—mirrors my own reactions to encounters with God, whether through His Word, creation, or moments of spiritual insight. In every such instance I learn the importance of bowing my heart in humility, fully aware that every glimpse of God’s glory is a gift of divine grace.
- The Path to Spiritual Uplift: Ezekiel’s experience also reveals one of those paradoxes of faith: that in humbling ourselves before God, we find true exaltation. It is in the act of lowering ourselves that we are spiritually lifted by the Spirit to stand in God’s presence. This reality assures me that humility is the path to experiencing God’s presence more fully.
Further References for Ezekiel 1:28:
Gen. 9:13; Ezek. 3:23; Exod. 24:16; Rev. 1:17
[1] Timothy Armitage, A Trial of Faith, (London: M.S. for Henry Cripps, 1661), 396.
