Prophets of Exile: Jeremiah and Ezekiel on God’s Covenant in the Ruins
Come Follow Me 2026 — Combined Lesson 22 — Synthesis of Weeks 43–44 (Jeremiah 31–38; Lamentations; Ezekiel 1–3; 33–34; 36–37; 47)
Two Prophets, One Catastrophe, One Promise
Jeremiah and Ezekiel are contemporaries — two prophets who minister in the shadow of the same catastrophe: the Babylonian destruction of Jerusalem in 586 BC. They never meet, as far as we know — Jeremiah remains in Jerusalem and then Egypt; Ezekiel is among the first group of exiles taken to Babylon a decade before the final destruction. Yet they receive what amounts to a single message from two different vantage points. Together they constitute the most theologically rich body of exilic prophecy in the entire canon.
Both prophets face the same pastoral crisis: a people who have lost everything they thought God had guaranteed — the holy city, the temple, the Davidic monarchy, the land promised to Abraham — and who are now asking the question that underlies every crisis of faith: Did God fail? Has He abandoned us? Was the covenant real?
Both prophets answer with extraordinary consistency: No, God has not abandoned you. Yes, the covenant is real. Yes, there is a future. And that future will be better than anything the past offered — because God will not merely restore what was broken but will create something entirely new.
Parallel Ministries: What Jeremiah and Ezekiel Share
The parallels between Jeremiah and Ezekiel are striking enough that they illuminate both books when read together:
Thematic Parallels
- The New Covenant — Jeremiah 31:31–34: law written on hearts; Ezekiel 36:26–27: “I will put a new spirit within you; and I will take away the stony heart”
- Individual Responsibility — Jeremiah 31:30: each shall die for his own iniquity; Ezekiel 33:20: the soul that sinneth, it shall die — both reject inherited guilt
- The Watchman/Prophet’s Burden — Jeremiah’s confessions of suffering; Ezekiel made a watchman and given bitter scrolls to eat
- The Promise of Restoration — Jeremiah buys a field in besieged Jerusalem; Ezekiel sees dry bones rise and the healing river flow
- God’s Presence Beyond the Temple — Jeremiah’s God can be found in exile (“seek me and ye shall find me”); Ezekiel’s chariot-throne God appears in Babylon
The convergence is not coincidental. Both prophets are receiving revelation from the same God about the same situation. The fact that their messages align so closely across two very different physical locations — Jerusalem in ruins and Babylon’s riverbanks — is itself a testimony to the unified authorship of their revelations.
The New Covenant and the New Heart: Two Ways of Saying the Same Thing
The most theologically significant convergence between the two prophets is their description of what God is going to do to the human heart. Jeremiah describes it as the law being written on the heart (Jer 31:33). Ezekiel describes it as the removal of the stony heart and the insertion of a heart of flesh, along with a new spirit:
Ezekiel 36:26–27
“A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh. And I will put my spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes, and ye shall keep my judgments, and do them.”
Notice what both passages say: God does the work. Jeremiah: “I will put my law in their inward parts.” Ezekiel: “I will give you a new heart... I will put my spirit within you.” This is not a matter of human spiritual effort gradually softening the heart through discipline. This is a divine surgical act — the stony heart removed, the heart of flesh given, the Spirit placed within.
The result, in Ezekiel, is that people “walk in my statutes and keep my judgments” — not because they have to but because the desire to do so has been implanted from within. This is the doctrine of grace in the Old Testament: not that God forgives reluctantly when humans meet a threshold of effort, but that God actively transforms the human person, making the covenant life both possible and desired.
In Latter-day Saint theology, this transformation is the work of the Holy Ghost received at baptism. The gift of the Holy Ghost is not merely prophetic ability or spiritual gifts — it is the ongoing agent of Ezekiel’s new-heart surgery and Jeremiah’s law-in-the-heart. This is why the eighth Article of Faith connects the gift of the Holy Ghost to sanctification, and why the baptismal covenant language parallels so closely what both prophets describe.
The Valley of Dry Bones and the New Covenant: Two Sides of One Promise
The valley of dry bones vision (Ezek 37) and the new covenant promise (Jer 31) can be read as two ways of describing the same eschatological reality. Jeremiah describes the interior dimension: the law written on the heart, the personal knowledge of God, the individual transformation of the covenant people. Ezekiel describes the corporate and even physical dimension: a whole valley of dried, dead, long-defeated people rising, receiving flesh, receiving breath, standing as a great army.
Both visions answer the same question the exiles were asking: Is it over? Is there any future for this people? And both answer with equal force: Not only is there a future — the future is better than anything the past contained. The new covenant is not the Sinai covenant patched up. It is a fundamentally new mode of relationship between God and humanity. The resurrection of the dry bones is not a restoration of the old Davidic monarchy. It is a transformation that makes the old kingdom look like a shadow.
The theological implication for us is profound: when our own personal “Jerusalem” has been destroyed — when a relationship, a testimony, a sense of identity, a community, a body, a hope has fallen — these two prophets together say: God is not finished. He is not merely repairing. He is creating something new. Can these bones live? O Lord God, thou knowest.
The Suffering Prophet and the Watchman: Ministry That Costs Something
Both Jeremiah and Ezekiel model a vision of prophetic ministry that is costly, embodied, and deeply personal. Jeremiah is thrown in cisterns, mocked, imprisoned, forced to rewrite his burned scroll, and compelled to live the covenant he preaches through the parable of his own celibacy (a sign of coming desolation). His famous “confessions” — private complaints to God about the burden of his calling — are among the most raw and honest expressions of prophetic suffering in the canon.
Ezekiel is commanded to eat a scroll, to lie on his side for extended periods as a sign of judgment, to be silent when commanded, and most devastatingly — when his wife dies, God forbids him from mourning publicly, making his private grief a sign to the community of what they cannot yet permit themselves to feel. These are not comfortable assignments. They are prophetic ministries that use the body and life of the prophet as the message itself.
The watchman image (Ezek 33) and the image of the prophet as the one responsible for delivering the divine word regardless of reception (Jer 36) both point to the same truth: genuine ministry is accountability-bearing. The prophet does not get to choose what to say based on what will be well received. The servant of God is responsible for speaking truth, and bears responsibility for failing to do so. That is a high calling — and both Jeremiah and Ezekiel lived it at great personal cost.
The Good Shepherd: Where Jeremiah and Ezekiel Lead
The most important convergence point between the two prophets is their common witness that God Himself will become the Shepherd of Israel. Jeremiah 23:1–6 condemns the shepherds who scatter the flock and promises a coming Righteous Branch who will reign wisely and execute justice. Ezekiel 34 develops this more fully: God condemns the false shepherds and declares that He Himself will seek the lost, bring back the strayed, bind up the injured, and strengthen the weak.
Both prophecies find their fulfillment in the same person. When Jesus says “I am the good shepherd” (John 10), He is claiming the identity both Jeremiah and Ezekiel prophesied. The Righteous Branch of Jeremiah 23 — whose name is “The LORD Our Righteousness” (23:6) — and the Davidic shepherd of Ezekiel 34 (“my servant David shall be king over them”, 34:24) are the same person. Jesus is the fulfillment of both prophets’ deepest hope.
Jeremiah 23:5–6
“Behold, the days come, saith the LORD, that I will raise unto David a righteous Branch, and a King shall reign and prosper, and shall execute judgment and justice in the earth. In his days Judah shall be saved, and Israel shall dwell safely: and this is his name whereby he shall be called, THE LORD OUR RIGHTEOUSNESS.”
THE LORD OUR RIGHTEOUSNESS — in Hebrew, YHWH Tsidkenu. This is the new name of the Davidic king who fulfills both Jeremiah’s new covenant and Ezekiel’s gathered flock. It is a name that attributes to the Davidic king the divine name itself. The king is not merely righteous — he is the LORD’s righteousness made available to others. This is the Atonement, anticipated seven centuries before Gethsemane.
Lamentations and Ezekiel: The Theology of Exile
Lamentations’ theology of honest grief within covenant faith parallels Ezekiel’s embodied suffering. Both insist that spiritual maturity does not mean the absence of suffering — it means the capacity to hold suffering within a framework of covenant trust. The author of Lamentations sits in the ruins and says “great is thy faithfulness.” Ezekiel loses his wife and serves as a silent sign of communal grief. Neither spiritually bypasses the pain. Both hold the pain within the larger reality of who God is and what He has promised.
This is a model for the disciple in every age. The gospel does not promise immunity from loss, grief, or catastrophe. What it promises — what Jeremiah and Ezekiel together insist upon — is that God’s faithfulness survives every catastrophe and that He is making something new from the ruins. The dry bones rise. The healing river flows. The morning brings new mercies. The stony heart is replaced.
The Restoration and the Exilic Prophets
Joseph Smith’s restoration of the gospel in the nineteenth century has deep structural parallels with the exilic prophetic tradition. Like Jeremiah and Ezekiel, Joseph ministered to a people who had “lost” what they believed God had promised — in the LDS theological reading, the Great Apostasy had resulted in the loss of the fullness of the priesthood and the gifts of the Spirit. The Restoration, like the new covenant prophecies, was not a repair of what was broken but the establishment of something new and more complete.
The two sticks of Ezekiel 37 coming together — the Bible and the Book of Mormon as joint witnesses of Christ — is the most specific Latter-day Saint connection to these two weeks of reading. But the deeper connection is the theological pattern: God does His most transformative work not in times of prosperity and institutional stability but in times of exile, loss, and apparent defeat. He is most clearly a God of creation from nothing, a God who raises dry bones, a God who writes on hearts — precisely when everything external has been stripped away.
Conclusion: What Exile Teaches
The lesson of Jeremiah and Ezekiel together is that exile — the loss of the structures, institutions, and certainties that previously mediated the presence of God — is not the end of the covenant. It may, in fact, be its deepest intensification. When the temple is gone, God writes His law directly on hearts. When the city is rubble, God asks “can these bones live?” and answers His own question. When the exile begins, God’s chariot follows His people to Babylon.
The question Jeremiah and Ezekiel ask us to bring to our own lives is this: What exiles am I in? What structures, communities, certainties, or institutions that previously mediated God’s presence have been lost or disrupted — and what is God doing in the ruins? Is He writing something on my heart that could only be written here? Is He moving His chariot-throne to where I actually am?
The answer these prophets give is always the same: yes. He is here. The law is being written. The bones are being gathered. The river is beginning to flow. Can these bones live? O Lord God, thou knowest — and He does.
