Reputation Management, Divine Edition
In Ezekiel 36, there's a moment where the tone shifts from judgment to restoration. But the reason for this shift caught me off guard. It wasn’t because the people had changed or repented. Instead, in verse 22, it says, "I am bringing you back, but not because you deserve it. I am doing it to protect my holy name."
That sentence stopped me.
Branding 101: Heaven’s PR Strategy
The idea that a god would act not out of mercy or justice, but to protect a reputation, feels surprisingly relatable. Not because I think of divinity in human terms, but because the concept of reputation is so central to how we operate as people. Countries protect their image on the world stage. Companies make decisions to preserve their brand. Even individuals sometimes do good things not because they want to, but because they want to be seen in a certain light.
The Grand Gesture, Audience Included
The text goes on to say, "Then the nations will know that I am the Lord," almost as if the restoration of Israel is a way of making a statement to everyone else watching. It turns the return from exile into a public demonstration, not just a private healing. And I find myself wondering—is that troubling? Comforting? Cynical? Strategic? Maybe it's all of those.
It also raises questions about motivation. If good things happen for reasons other than goodness itself, does that diminish their value? Or is the outcome more important than the intention? In this case, the people benefit regardless. They are brought home, their land is restored, and later, they are promised "a new heart" and "a new spirit" (Ezekiel 36:26). But none of that is framed as a reward. It's more like a course correction, for the sake of a name that had been publicly tied to them.
Saving Face by Saving People
There’s a certain logic to that. If Israel was supposed to represent their god and they had failed, then their suffering wasn’t just personal—it was reputational. Restoring them restores the name, the image, the brand, so to speak.
It makes me think about how much we do for appearance's sake. Whether it's a nation rebuilding its image, or a person repairing a relationship, the why behind the action matters. Or does it? Maybe sometimes outcomes speak louder than motivations.
Ezekiel 36 does offer a glimpse into a worldview where even divine actions are strategic, public, and concerned with legacy. Not just what happens, but what it means to everyone watching.