If the event here described really happened, and if the death of the prophet's wife was a fact and not a mere vision or parable, at all events there is no reason to suppose that this death took place from other than natural causes. Foreseeing what would happen, the God of men and of nations used the affliction of his servant and turned it to account, making it the occasion and the means of spiritual instruction and impression for the benefit of the Hebrew community. The decease of Ezekiel's wife symbolized the fate of the guilty Jerusalem. It was -

I. SUDDEN AND UNEXPECTED. The Lord took away from the prophet the desire of his eyes "with a stroke." How touching is the prophet's record! - "At even my wife died." It is the simplicity of truth, the simplicity of submission, which speaks in this language. The terms Ezekiel employs show how great was his love and attachment to his wife; all the more was this sudden bereavement a shock of distress and anguish to him. Similarly swift was the stroke of retribution and ruin which came upon the Jewish metropolis. Notwithstanding repeated warnings and threatenings, the Israelites would not believe that their beloved Jerusalem, "the joy of the whole earth," could fall before the mighty conqueror from the east. But their confidence was misplaced, and their pride was destined to humiliation. The death stroke came, and it came with the sharpness and suddenness which corresponded with the prophet's bereavement.

II. SEVERE. No affliction which could befall Ezekiel could be so distressing and so crushing as the loss of his beloved wife. In this it was emblematical of the blow which was about to descend upon Jerusalem. "Behold," said the Lord, "I will profane my sanctuary, the pride of your power, the desire of your eyes, and that which your soul pitieth." Patriotism, historical associations, religious pride, and other elements of feeling conspired to render their metropolis dear to the sons of Abraham; and its destruction and the dispersion of its citizens could not be contemplated by them without the liveliest emotions of anguish and anxiety. No heavier blow could fall up. on them than this. Distress, as of the bereaved and desolate, must needs take possession of every true Hebrew heart, when predictions of Divine wrath were fulfilled, when the heathen entered and possessed the sanctuary of Jehovah.

III. INEVITABLE AND IRREPARABLE. Life is in the hands of the Lord and Giver of life. When he recalls his gift, his creatures can do nothing but submit. So Ezekiel himself acknowledged and felt; it was God who deprived him of the desire of his eyes. The dead return not to their place, which knows them no more. This fact gives keenness to the sorrow, whilst it aids submission. Ezekiel's fellow-countrymen were to learn that it was the Divine purpose to inflict upon Jerusalem the last indignity. No human power could avert, and no human power could repair, this evil, any more than such power could save or restore the life which the Creator resumed. A new career might indeed open up before the people of Israel, but the old career was closed peremptorily and irrecoverably.

IV. CRUSHING EVEN TO SILENCE. Ezekiel was bidden, when his bereavement came upon him, to refrain from weeping and mourning, and from all the outward signs of grief. Distressing and difficult as the command certainly was, it was obeyed. And the prophet's obedience to it was significant. When the day of Judah's trouble came, it came in such a manner and with such circumstances accompanying it that the survivors and spectators of the national calamity were rendered speechless through grief. Their experience reminds us of the memorable language of the psalmist, "I was dumb, I opened not my mouth, because thou didst it." There is a time to be silent. When the hand of God is heavy upon those who have resisted his laws and rebelled against his authority, they have nothing wherewith to answer their righteous Lord whom they have offended. It is for them to refrain from complaint, which in such a case would be merely blasphemy; it is for them to bow beneath the rod; it is for them, in silence and in speechless bitterness of heart, to repent of all their sins. It is the Lord: "Behold, here am I; let him do to me as seemeth good unto him." - T.

Just as Ezekiel, at his Lord's command, did many strange things entirely with a view to other people, we must remember that many things that we do have some relation to others. As long as we are here we can never so isolate ourselves as to become absolutely independent of our surroundings; and it is often well, when we note the behaviour of other people, to say to somebody, if not to them, as the people did to Ezekiel, "Wilt thou not tell us what these things are to us?"

I. THIS SHOULD BE YOUR QUESTION TO THE LORD JESUS. Very reverently, though, let us approach our Divine Master, and looking at Him in His wondrous passion, let us earnestly ask Him, "Wilt Thou not tell us what these things are to us, that Thou doest so?" His answer is, "Sin is an exceedingly bitter thing; and to remove it costs Me the agony of My soul." But do you see through the trees the lanterns twinkling? Men are coming, evil men, with rough voices, with torches, and lanterns, and staves, to take the blessed pleading One. Dear Master, while the traitor's kiss is still wet upon Thee, and Thou art being led away bound to Caiaphas, tell me, I pray Thee, what meanest Thou by all this? What has this to do with us? He answers, "I go willingly; I must be bound, for sin has bound you; sin has bound your hands, sin has hampered and crippled you, and made you prisoners. You are the bond slaves of Satan, and I must be bound to set you free." But now they have taken Him before His judges. He stands before Annas, and Caiaphas, and Pilate. Blessed Sufferer, like a lamb in the midst of wolves, tell us, if Thou wilt speak a word, why this silence? And He whispers into the hearts of His beloved, "I was silent, for there was nothing to say; willing to be your Advocate, what could I say? You had sinned, though I had not. I might have pleaded for Myself; but I stood there for you, in your room, and place, and stead; and what could I say, what excuse, what apology, what extenuation could I urge?" But now they are scourging Him, they are crowning Him with thorns, they are mocking Him, blindfolding Him, and then smiting Him with the palms of their hands. What scorn, what shame they poured on Him: Blessed One, blessed One, wilt Thou not tell us what these things are to us? But now, you see, they take Him out through the streets of Jerusalem; along the Via Dolorosa He pursues His weary walk, blood drops falling on the pavement, Himself staggering beneath the load of the Cross. Tell me, Jesus, why goest Thou out there, to the place of public execution, the Old Bailey, the Tyburn of Jerusalem? And He answers, "I suffer without the gate because God will not tolerate sin in His city. Sin is an unclean thing; and I, though not Myself unclean, yet standing in the stead of the unclean, must die outside the city gates." And He answers, "That I may draw all men unto Me. Earth refuses Me, and heaven denies Me shelter. I hang here, the Just for the unjust, that I may bring men to God." They take Him down from the Cross, for He is dead; but before they take Him down they pierce His heart, and even after death that heart for us its tribute pours. But they have buried Him, and He lies in His cell alone through the long, dark night of death; but the third morning sees Him rise. Or ever the sun is up, the Sun of Righteousness has arisen, with healing in His wings. Jesus has quitted the tomb, and I invite all sinners to say to the risen Redeemer, "Wilt Thou not fell us what these things are to us, that Thou doest so?" This is what I understand that His Resurrection means to us, He is able to save to the uttermost them that come unto God by Him, seeing He ever liveth to make intercession for them. He not only rises from the dead; but He ascends to His Father. Ask Him what He means by that, and He will tell you that He has led captivity captive, and "received gifts for men, yea, for the rebellious also."

II. THIS MAY BE YOUR QUESTION TO THE CHURCH. We are coming here, to keep Christ's death in remembrance. Every first day of the week, if you can, come to the table as a part of your Sabbath worship. This service is intended to be a memorial of Christ's death. The best memorial of any event is to associate with it the observance of some rite, or some ceremony frequently repeated; this will cause it to be a perpetual memorial. Now, as long as half a dozen Christians meet together for the breaking of bread, Christ's death can never be forgotten. We are not, however, coming to the table merely to look at the bread and the wine. We are coming there to eat and to drink, to show our personal benefit by Jesus Christ's death. We wish all who see us to know that we enjoy the result of Christ's death. We have a life that feeds upon His sacrifice; we have a hope that makes Christ to be its very meat and drink. But we not only come to the table to eat and to drink, but there is this point about the communion, that we come together to declare our unity in Jesus Christ. If I went home, and broke bread, and drank of the juice of the vine by myself alone, it would not be the observance of the Lord's Supper. It is a united participation. It is a festival. It is a token and display of brotherhood. Once more, when this communion is over, if we live, we shall meet again next Lord's day, and when that is over, if we are spared, we shall meet again the following Lord's day. We meet continually, to show our belief in Jesus Christ's coming again. Perhaps you still inquire, "Wilt thou not tell us what these things are to us, that thou doest so?" Well, they are this to you, that, whether you remember Jesus Christ's coming or not, He is coming; He is coming quickly. Let Him come when He may, His coming will be full of love and joy to all who have trusted Him.

III. THIS IS OUR QUESTION TO YOU, "Wilt thou not tell us what these things are to us, that thou doest so?" First, there are some of you who are here who do not often go to a place of worship; I know you. By seldom coming to the Lord's house you teach us your utter indifference. Your carelessness seems to say to me, "God is nobody, put Him in a corner. Get on in business; mind the main chance. Gospel? Salvation? Oh, they are trifles, not worth anybody's consideration!" There are others of you who are not indifferent; you come to the services, and you are attentive listeners; but just observe what you are going to do. The Lord's table is spread, Christ is to be remembered, fellowship is to be had with Him, and you are going home! I hear another say, "I am not going home; I shall remain at the ordinance as a spectator." I always like to see you look on. You are getting into a place of happy danger. Get where the shots fly, and one of them may make a target of you. Oh, that it might be so! But tonight you are going to be only a spectator. Will you tell me what that means — only a spectator? In Paris, during the siege, when it was straitly shut up, there were meals given at certain times in appointed places; but what would you have thought if you had been there, and had been allowed to come to the window and see the feeding, and yourself remain only a spectator? Do not be merely spectators; but if you mean to be so, then I say this to you, there will be no spectators in heaven. They will all partake of the feast above, or they will not be there. And, I grieve to add, there will be no spectators in hell. You will have to participate in the award of vengeance, or else in the gift of mercy. Therefore have done with being spectators.

( C. H. Spurgeon.).