Ezekiel 2:6 - Homiletics.

Dwelling among scorpions.

I. THE DISTRESS . Ezekiel lay on no bed of roses. His messages of stern denunciation raised up enemies who gave him worse than a thorny couch—a very house of scorpions to dwell in. No more hideous picture of distress can well be conceived than that of the faithful prophet thrust into a thicket of briers, which turns out to be a scorpions' nest. The thorns are bad enough, yet fierce stinging creatures are added. This is a prophet's Inferno. Captives who only suffered from the grief of exile would hang their harps on the willows in heart-broken despair. Ezekiel's is a far worse case—to be tormented by his fellow captives in return for his faithful words.

1 . A great mission may bring a great distress. The common people are spared; the prophet is tormented. Ezekiel has his scorpion-neighbours; St. Paul, exalted to the third heaven, receives his thorn in the flesh; Christ, the Holy One, is crowned with thorns, pierced with nails, and more terribly wounded with cruel hatred.

2 . A man ' s worst enemies may be those of his own household. The scorpions are not pagan Babylonians, but Jews. No rancour is so bad as that of one whose milk of natural affection is turned to the venom of a brother's hatred. This is the murder spirit of Cain the fratricide, the devilry of Judas the traitor.

3 . A guilty conscience is a dangerous sting. If it does not wound its owner, it is likely to turn on its accuser. Ezekiel had to accuse the Jews of sin. We may often take the very ferocity of the attack made upon the gospel as a sign that its opponents are not at ease in their own hearts.

4 . A spiteful tongue stings like a scorpion. Ezekiel was cruelly hurt when no bodily harm was done to him. Possibly his enemies were scarcely conscious of the keenness of their words. But the rankling wound which comes from venomous speech is more painful than the fiery swelling of the worst scorpion sting. Spiteful slanderers are more mischievous than the most repulsive insects.

II. THE DUTY . Though scorpions infest the sphere of his labours, still the faithful prophet must toil on, braving their threatening stings. The people at Banias build leafy booths on the tops of poles, for residence during the hot season, in order to escape the attacks of scorpions, which are very abundant in their neighbourhood. No, such escape is permitted to the prophet of God.

1 . Unpopularity may be a sign of fidelity. This is a shamefully forgotten doctrine in our day of easy living. Now the popular preacher is regarded as the great preacher, and the unpopular servant of God is regarded, even by his brethren, as a "failure." If so, then Ezekiel and Jeremiah were "failures," while their now-forgotten comrades, who prophesied smooth things, were great "successes." Such a doctrine would have given us no Hebrew prophets to stand in the first rank of God's heroes. But time is a great avenger. Frederick Robertson of Brighton, whose sensitive spirit was assailed by a scorpion press during his lifetime, is now recognized as a prince of Divine teachers; while the very names of his enemies—happily for them—are forgotten.

2 . The duty of fidelity in the midst of persecution is blessed with heavenly rewards. The rewards begin on earth in the soul's culture. Mediaeval monks would roll in thorns for self-chastisement. Persecuted prophets needed to invent no such fantastic devices. The thorns were thrust upon them; their path was beset by scorpions. There is danger in the path of ease. It is better to be stung by the vicious scorpion than bitten by the deadly cobra. The thorn bush of persecution has its venomous insects, but in the flower beds of pleasure lies the serpent whose bite is death.