Following God When It Doesn’t Make Sense

Good morning church, my name is Ryan Reed and I am the student pastor here at Fannin and I am glad to be preaching here this morning. Today I am wrapping up a 5 week series on Old Testament Characters. Mark taught us about Josiah and Daniel, two weeks ago we looked at Joshua and kind of continued that talk last week as we addressed our graduating seniors, and today we are closing that series by looking at Ezekiel.

Have you ever felt called to do something difficult? Something that felt overwhelming or maybe even pointless? If so, you are in good company. Ezekiel knew that feeling well. Ezekiel was called by God to speak to His people during one of Israel’s darkest and most desperate seasons. The year was about 593 B.C., and the nation of Judah had been ravaged by Babylon. Ezekiel himself was a priest, taken into exile during the second Babylonian deportation, about 10 years before Jerusalem was fully destroyed. He was around 30 years old, which would have been the age when he officially stepped into the priesthood—yet instead of temple service, God gave him a prophetic ministry. His people were living as captives by the Kebar River in Babylon—disoriented, bitter, and hopeless.

His audience? A displaced people, discouraged and disobedient, far from their homeland and far from their God. These weren’t just people who had sinned—they had lost hope. And God says: "Ezekiel, I need you to speak to them."

Show a cracked, dried-up ground image or a desert wasteland on screen

This is the kind of place—physically and spiritually—that Ezekiel walked into. God’s people were disillusioned, far from home, and hard-hearted. But even in that moment, God was not done speaking. And He chose a man like Ezekiel to be His voice—not because Ezekiel was the strongest or loudest, but because he was willing to obey radically.

Today, I want us to explore Ezekiel’s life and learn what it means to follow God in radical obedience—even when it’s hard, even when it doesn’t make sense, and even when it costs us everything.

But before we dive into the strange visions and street-theater-style prophetic acts, let’s take a moment to understand the setting a bit more.

Ezekiel was not preaching in the temple in Jerusalem—he was in exile. He was ministering to people who had broken their covenant with God for generations. And yet, God doesn't give up on them. Instead, He sends Ezekiel with a message. But this message comes with a cost—and a calling.

Let’s pick up the story in Ezekiel 2:1–7, where Ezekiel first hears from God. Ezekiel 2:1-7

Ezekiel 2:1–7 ESV

And he said to me, “Son of man, stand on your feet, and I will speak with you.” And as he spoke to me, the Spirit entered into me and set me on my feet, and I heard him speaking to me. And he said to me, “Son of man, I send you to the people of Israel, to nations of rebels, who have rebelled against me. They and their fathers have transgressed against me to this very day. The descendants also are impudent and stubborn: I send you to them, and you shall say to them, ‘Thus says the Lord God.’ And whether they hear or refuse to hear (for they are a rebellious house) they will know that a prophet has been among them. And you, son of man, be not afraid of them, nor be afraid of their words, though briers and thorns are with you and you sit on scorpions. Be not afraid of their words, nor be dismayed at their looks, for they are a rebellious house. And you shall speak my words to them, whether they hear or refuse to hear, for they are a rebellious house.

So here we learn that Obedience Begins with Listening

Let’s go back to that moment when Ezekiel is called. He’s standing—well, actually, he's not standing. He’s overwhelmed, likely on his face after a stunning vision of God’s glory in chapter 1. And then God says, “Son of man, stand up, and I will speak to you.” But Ezekiel doesn’t even get up on his own—verse 2 says the Spirit entered him and set him on his feet. Right from the beginning, we’re shown that obedience starts not with strength or initiative, but with surrender and listening.

God then tells Ezekiel: “I am sending you to the people of Israel, to a nation of rebels.” Not a receptive audience. Not a hungry crowd. But a rebellious people who, for generations, have ignored God’s commands. And then God tells him something even more challenging—verse 5 says, “Whether they listen or fail to listen... they will know that a prophet has been among them.”

You can almost feel the tension here. God is calling Ezekiel not to success, but to faithfulness. He won’t be judged on how many people repent or respond. He’ll be judged on whether he speaks what God told him to say. His success is not measured by people’s response but by his faithfulness to speak.

Imagine a mail carrier choosing which letters to deliver based on how the recipients might react. It’s absurd, right? Their job isn’t to approve the message—just to deliver it. Ezekiel's calling is exactly that. He’s not a negotiator; he’s a messenger. Or imagine a firefighter. A firefighter doesn’t wait until the flames die down to go in. The risk is part of the call.

This is hard for us, especially in a culture that measures everything by results. Likes, shares, attendance, applause. But God's math is different. He measures faithfulness, not fruitfulness. Maybe God’s asking you to share truth with someone who doesn’t want to hear it. Maybe He’s calling you to forgive someone who doesn’t deserve it, to serve in a role that no one will applaud. Faithful obedience often begins with a quiet yes in the face of a very loud no from the world.

Let’s fast forward a bit. Ezekiel is now fully into his prophetic ministry. And this is where things start to get strange. Well even more strange. Let’s read Ezekiel 4:1-17

Ezekiel 4:1–17 ESV

“And you, son of man, take a brick and lay it before you, and engrave on it a city, even Jerusalem. And put siegeworks against it, and build a siege wall against it, and cast up a mound against it. Set camps also against it, and plant battering rams against it all around. And you, take an iron griddle, and place it as an iron wall between you and the city; and set your face toward it, and let it be in a state of siege, and press the siege against it. This is a sign for the house of Israel. “Then lie on your left side, and place the punishment of the house of Israel upon it. For the number of the days that you lie on it, you shall bear their punishment. For I assign to you a number of days, 390 days, equal to the number of the years of their punishment. So long shall you bear the punishment of the house of Israel. And when you have completed these, you shall lie down a second time, but on your right side, and bear the punishment of the house of Judah. Forty days I assign you, a day for each year. And you shall set your face toward the siege of Jerusalem, with your arm bared, and you shall prophesy against the city. And behold, I will place cords upon you, so that you cannot turn from one side to the other, till you have completed the days of your siege. “And you, take wheat and barley, beans and lentils, millet and emmer, and put them into a single vessel and make your bread from them. During the number of days that you lie on your side, 390 days, you shall eat it. And your food that you eat shall be by weight, twenty shekels a day; from day to day you shall eat it. And water you shall drink by measure, the sixth part of a hin; from day to day you shall drink. And you shall eat it as a barley cake, baking it in their sight on human dung.” And the Lord said, “Thus shall the people of Israel eat their bread unclean, among the nations where I will drive them.” Then I said, “Ah, Lord God! Behold, I have never defiled myself. From my youth up till now I have never eaten what died of itself or was torn by beasts, nor has tainted meat come into my mouth.” Then he said to me, “See, I assign to you cow’s dung instead of human dung, on which you may prepare your bread.” Moreover, he said to me, “Son of man, behold, I will break the supply of bread in Jerusalem. They shall eat bread by weight and with anxiety, and they shall drink water by measure and in dismay. I will do this that they may lack bread and water, and look at one another in dismay, and rot away because of their punishment.

So here in chapter 4, God gives Ezekiel one of the most bizarre assignments in all of Scripture. He tells him to build a clay model of Jerusalem, like a little prophetic diorama, and then pretend to lay siege to it. That’s weird enough. But then it gets weirder—God tells him to lie on his left side for 390 days, one day for each year of Israel’s sin, and then on his right side for 40 more days, for Judah’s sin. That’s over a year of lying on the ground as a sign to the people.

And that’s not all—he’s told to cook his food over cow dung (originally human dung, but Ezekiel protests, and God relents) as a symbol of the defiled food the people would eat in exile.

Now let’s just be honest—if you saw me building a Lego model of our city in the back of the worship center and lying beside it for a year, you’d assume I lost his mind. But that’s what God asked Ezekiel to do. His obedience looked ridiculous on the outside, but it was a powerful message to a people who had stopped listening to words.

The prophets often communicated with symbolic acts (Jeremiah wore a yoke, Isaiah walked barefoot), but Ezekiel’s acts are extreme. They show us that God isn’t just interested in comfort or appearance—He’s interested in truth being made known in whatever way will reach the people. Ezekiel’s willingness to obey, no matter how odd the task, was a testimony to his complete surrender. Because let’s be honest. Obedience may look crazy to the world.

God’s commands may not always be “comfortable” or logical to us. Much like I preached about two weeks ago with Joshua, the why isn’t what’s important. It’s the obedience and the trust. We often want clarity, but God just wants trust.

Think of Noah building the ark. Genesis 5:32 tells us that at the age of 500 he became the father of Shem, Ham and Japheth. When the floodwaters came in Genesis 7:6, Noah was 600 years old. We don’t know if the instructions to build the ark came before or after he had kids, so we don’t know exactly how long it took to build the ark. Doing research on this sermon, I saw anywhere from 75-120 years to build. Either of those two numbers is a long time. He looked insane building this huge boat in modern day Iraq. That is until it started raining. Sometimes faithfulness means looking foolish—until people see what you’ve been preparing for.

Would you obey God if it made you look crazy? If He called you to step into a ministry that no one understood? If He asked you to take a stand that cost you friends or status? Radical obedience will almost always go against the grain of culture—but that’s where God often does His deepest work.

Let’s continue on in the life of Ezekiel and read Ezekiel 24:15-27

Ezekiel 24:15–27 ESV

The word of the Lord came to me: “Son of man, behold, I am about to take the delight of your eyes away from you at a stroke; yet you shall not mourn or weep, nor shall your tears run down. Sigh, but not aloud; make no mourning for the dead. Bind on your turban, and put your shoes on your feet; do not cover your lips, nor eat the bread of men.” So I spoke to the people in the morning, and at evening my wife died. And on the next morning I did as I was commanded. And the people said to me, “Will you not tell us what these things mean for us, that you are acting thus?” Then I said to them, “The word of the Lord came to me: ‘Say to the house of Israel, Thus says the Lord God: Behold, I will profane my sanctuary, the pride of your power, the delight of your eyes, and the yearning of your soul, and your sons and your daughters whom you left behind shall fall by the sword. And you shall do as I have done; you shall not cover your lips, nor eat the bread of men. Your turbans shall be on your heads and your shoes on your feet; you shall not mourn or weep, but you shall rot away in your iniquities and groan to one another. Thus shall Ezekiel be to you a sign; according to all that he has done you shall do. When this comes, then you will know that I am the Lord God.’ “As for you, son of man, surely on the day when I take from them their stronghold, their joy and glory, the delight of their eyes and their soul’s desire, and also their sons and daughters, on that day a fugitive will come to you to report to you the news. On that day your mouth will be opened to the fugitive, and you shall speak and be no longer mute. So you will be a sign to them, and they will know that I am the Lord.”

Now, I know some of you in the room are Star Wars fans, and if you’ve seen the Disney+ series Andor, you know that it’s not your typical Star Wars story. There aren’t any lightsaber duels or Jedi mind tricks—it’s a gritty, slow-burning story about rebellion, resistance, and the cost of doing what’s right in the face of overwhelming darkness.

Cassian Andor isn’t a flashy hero. He doesn’t want to be a symbol. In fact, for much of the show, he’s just trying to survive. But gradually, he’s pulled into something bigger than himself—a rebellion that will one day challenge the full might of the Empire. And what’s striking about Andor is that the show doesn't romanticize the cost of resistance. It shows you what it really costs. People lose everything—their freedom, their homes, their families, their lives.

There’s a line in the show where one of the characters says, “We’ve all done terrible things on behalf of the Rebellion. Spies. Saboteurs. Assassins. We’ve all done what we had to do to survive. But eventually, you realize: it's all for something greater.” It’s a powerful moment—because it shows that purpose can sustain you, even when the sacrifice feels unbearable. I don’t want to spoil anything for you, but the things he goes through are incredibly painful. And I get it, it’s just a tv show. It’s not real.

But that brings us back to Ezekiel. Where these things were real.

God tells him in chapter 24 that the “delight of his eyes”—his beloved wife—is going to die. And not only that, but he isn’t allowed to mourn her publicly. This is, without a doubt, one of the most gut-wrenching moments in the book. Her death was to be a symbol of the destruction of Jerusalem, the temple, the heart of the people. Ezekiel’s pain was going to speak prophetically to a nation that had turned a deaf ear to God.

Can you imagine that? Losing the person you love most in the world, and then being asked to keep preaching—without breaking, without grieving in the way you long to, all so that others might see and understand the truth? That’s not just obedience. That’s sacrificial obedience. That’s giving up everything for the sake of the message. Just like Andor, Ezekiel didn’t sign up for a life of spotlight or glory. But he stayed on mission, even when it cost him dearly.

You see, deep obedience to God will always be costly. It’s going to require that we give up things we love, things we thought we needed, things that feel like part of who we are. But the mission—God’s glory, His truth, His call on your life—is worth it. Ezekiel didn’t get applause. He didn’t get a platform. What he got was the presence of God—and a legacy of faithfulness that would echo through the centuries.

So let me ask you today: What’s your “delight of the eyes”? What’s that thing—or that person—that you’re holding onto tighter than you’re holding onto the mission God has given you? Would you still follow Him if it meant letting that go? If it meant walking through grief and still proclaiming the truth?

Like Andor in the rebellion, like Ezekiel in exile, obedience sometimes feels like loss. But in God’s kingdom, nothing is ever wasted. Not even your pain.

Why? Because this was going to be a sign to the people of what was coming. Just as Ezekiel would lose the one he loved, so Israel would lose the temple—the place they cherished most. And just as Ezekiel was not allowed to mourn, the people would be so stunned by grief they would be speechless.

We can’t gloss over this. Ezekiel’s obedience cost him everything. And he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t run. Verse 18 says simply, “So I spoke to the people in the morning, and in the evening my wife died. And the next morning I did as I had been commanded.” Obedience Sometimes Requires Deep Personal Sacrifice

But friends, it is so worth it. Paul says in Philippians 3:8-9

Philippians 3:8–9 ESV

Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith—

Obedience That Honors God Is Costly but Worth It

Ezekiel was never promised comfort or applause—only the presence of God and the assurance of His truth. His obedience left a legacy, even if he didn’t see the results in his lifetime.

So as we wrap up, let me ask you some questions and think through some things:

Are you more focused on outcomes or obedience? What hard truth has God asked you to live or share, regardless of how people respond? We live in a results-driven world. Success is measured by likes, shares, numbers, influence. But in God’s economy, faithfulness outweighs fruitfulness. When Ezekiel was called, God warned him up front: “They probably won’t listen to you.” In other words, you might not see the outcome you’re hoping for—but speak anyway. Some of you are holding back from speaking truth because you’re afraid of how it will land. But God doesn’t call us to control results—He calls us to obey. Whether it's confronting sin with grace and truth, standing up for what’s right when it’s unpopular, or living differently in a world that calls compromise “normal”—your job is not to manage outcomes. It’s to be faithful with the truth He’s given you.

Has God called you to do something hard? To speak truth, forgive someone, serve somewhere thankless? Sometimes God calls us into places where it feels like no one will notice, no one will care, and no one will thank us. That’s exactly where Ezekiel was sent. Maybe He’s asked you to forgive someone who hasn’t even apologized—or to keep serving faithfully in a ministry where no one claps or celebrates you. Maybe it’s speaking truth in a family that rolls their eyes when you bring up God. Hard doesn’t mean wrong. In fact, more often than not, hard is exactly where God does His best work in us. When we lean into the difficult, we discover that we’re not doing it for people—we’re doing it for the God who called us.

Obedience often starts with a yes when everything in you wants to say no. Let’s be honest—sometimes obedience feels like the last thing we want to do. Everything in you wants to avoid the conversation, to walk away from the calling, to choose the easier path. But God doesn’t wait for your comfort—He waits for your yes. Ezekiel didn’t just say yes to a message—he said yes to a life of strange, costly, radical obedience. And maybe that’s what God is looking for from you too. You don’t need to have all the answers. You just need to be willing to say, “God, I trust You more than I trust my feelings. So even if I want to say no—I’ll say yes.”

Would you obey God if it cost your comfort or reputation? What’s one step of obedience you’re hesitating on because it “feels weird”? Let’s be real—some of God’s commands don’t just feel hard, they feel weird. Lying on your side for 390 days? Cooking food over cow dung? That was Ezekiel’s assignment. And while your calling may not look that extreme, it might feel just as uncomfortable. Maybe it’s praying with a co-worker. Sharing your faith with a family member. Stepping into a ministry that no one else wants. The question is: Are you willing to look strange for the sake of being faithful? Comfort and obedience rarely travel together. But when you let go of what people think, you make space to step fully into what God thinks—and that’s the only opinion that matters in the end.

Where is God asking me to obey, even when it’s hard, uncomfortable, or costly? You might already know the answer to this question. That thing God’s been nudging you about in your spirit. That quiet conviction you keep brushing off. That conversation you’ve been avoiding. God’s call to obedience doesn’t always come with neon signs—it often comes in whispers, in repeated promptings, in doors He keeps gently pushing you through. It might cost you relationships, plans, security, or pride. But if God is asking, then it’s not about what you’re losing—it’s about who you’re becoming. Obedience transforms you, even when it doesn’t change your circumstances.

And lastly: What would radical obedience look like in this season of my life? Radical obedience isn’t about doing something big and flashy. It’s about doing the next faithful thing, even when it’s hard. For a student, it might mean resisting peer pressure or refusing to cut corners. For a parent, it might mean setting the spiritual tone in your home when everyone’s exhausted. For a leader, it might mean taking a stand that costs influence. Whatever your season, radical obedience always starts with asking: God, what’s the next yes You’re asking of me? And then actually doing it—no matter what it costs. Because in the end, the reward is not in what you gain—but in who you follow.

Let’s pray, and I want you to ask God to give you courage for radical obedience, even when it doesn’t make sense.