The topic comes up whenever tensions run high over Iran and the surrounding region: the meaning of the prophecy in Ezekiel chapters 38 and 39. An enemy from the north marches out to destroy Israel. An unsuspecting people becomes caught up in a battle "on the mountains of Israel" and responds with overwhelming force. Though God permits it, he will ultimately deliver his people. The nature of these chapters invites readers to place the prophecy in a new era, time and again — and yet it also raises the question:
Can we keep applying Ezekiel 38 & 39 to our own time? Or are there limits to that as well?
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Ezekiel 38:1–6 (NIV)
As a starting point, let's look at the opening verses of Ezekiel 38.
[1] The word of the Lord came to me: [2] "Son of man, set your face against Gog, of the land of Magog, the chief prince of Meshek and Tubal; prophesy against him [3] and say: 'This is what the Sovereign Lord says: I am against you, Gog, chief prince of Meshek and Tubal. [4] I will turn you around, put hooks in your jaws and bring you out with your whole army — your horses, your horsemen fully armed, and a great horde with large and small shields, all of them brandishing their swords. [5] Persia, Cush and Put will be with them, all with shields and helmets, [6] also Gomer with all its troops, and Beth Togarmah from the far north with all its troops — the many nations with you.'"
"A Strange Passage": Ezekiel 38–39 in Context
One biblical scholar describes chapters 38 and 39 of Ezekiel as "a strange passage" (International Bible Commentary). It feels oddly placed between chapters 37 and 40, where the narrative of the earlier chapters seems simply to continue. Ezekiel's prophecy about an enemy from the north and Israel's victory stands out as something of an anomaly. But why exactly?
Prophecy: Prediction or Message?
First, this prophecy has a strongly universal character. By that I don't mean global in a geographic sense, but universal in its application. It is genuinely difficult to place the enemy Gog from the land of Magog in any specific historical period — and that is normally precisely what you try to do: understand the Bible, and prophecy in particular, within the context in which it arose. Prophecies are not, by definition, forward-looking in the sense of being predictive. We are not in the business of fortune-telling, but of theology. We listen to what God says about our lives in this time.
A prophecy is, first and foremost, a heavenly perspective on earthly reality. Prophets — whether court prophets or local ones — pass on a message they have received from God. Human distortion is possible, but the core remains: God has something to say about what happens on earth.
We are in the sixth century BC — a time of exile, a harrowing period for the people of Israel, far from home, in a foreign land with unfamiliar languages and customs.
Who Is Gog? Historical Background
It is quite possible that Gog represents the Babylonians themselves, who swept down from the north, laid waste to the land, and deported its people (587 BC). That seems the most straightforward reading, and Ezekiel 39 appears to confirm it. The final verses spell out the explicit reason for the exile. The name Gog, however, remains enigmatic: it calls to mind the Lydian ruler Gyges, the first of the Mermnad dynasty (ca. 685–644 BC), who conquered parts of Asia Minor. Gog or Gyges — the resemblance is there. By now, of course, Gog and Magog sound more like a duo from The Lord of the Rings, but that is beside the point. Gog remains a mystery, and it is precisely that mystery which makes him such a convenient placeholder — always ready to be filled in with whoever happens to be your enemy of the moment.
From Russia to Iran: Modern Readings of the Prophecy
And filled in he is, abundantly. Everyone inserts their own preferred adversary. Russia has long been a popular candidate, partly because the name Rosh appears in the same passage (the NIV translates it as "chief prince," but it can also be read as "prince of Rosh"). China gets a mention occasionally, though Iran more often. That is understandable: the region the prophet describes points directly to the ancient Persian territory we now call Iran. Magog, in that reading, would literally mean "the land from which Gog comes" (Keith W. Karley, 1974). Meshek and Tubal refer to areas around the Black Sea — present-day northern Turkey, Armenia, or Georgia.
The Iranian Revolution of 1979 already triggered a wave of end-times thinking, as have countless other dramatic events since. In times of upheaval and chaos, people reach for the Bible in search of answers. Ezekiel is a perennial candidate for that kind of reading, as is the book of Revelation — and not without reason, since the final book of the New Testament plays with themes remarkably similar to those in Ezekiel.
Eschatological Overtones: The End of All Things?
This brings us to the second reason these chapters feel somewhat different from the rest of the book: they are heavily eschatological in tone, oriented toward a future final judgment. In this case, the moment when all nations will acknowledge that "I am the Lord their God." God does not let Gog get away with it, and he invites Israel to the table — though for a meal made from the enemy. The central theme is God's deliverance of Israel from her enemies. And that remains a compelling theme when you are at war and feel loyalty toward that people.
An Uncomfortable Truth: God Permits It
What is often overlooked is that in Ezekiel's words, God does not merely permit the enemy — he virtually summons him to punish Israel for her own wrongdoing. That makes this passage extraordinarily complex. God puts hooks in the jaws of the enemies, defeats them, but also uses them to teach Israel a lesson. Can you imagine it? In the middle of exile, a prophet appears and tells you it's your own fault.
You're already down on the ground, and he kicks you again.
And yet this is also meant to be a comfort: nothing happens without God's knowledge. Nothing escapes him. In fact, he seems to be the great director of events. If he permits it, he can also stop it. God remains sovereign, even when despair runs deepest. But then we must be consistent: if that holds true for then, it holds true for now as well. If we treat the Bible as a blueprint for the future, we need to include this part of the picture too. God does not only rescue — he also permits a great deal.
Can We Apply Then to Now?
Can prophecies like this one — written first and foremost for the people of that time — be laid alongside our own current events? Yes and no. Let me start with no.
No, not without serious caution. Ezekiel did not write this, together with his followers and editors, for our generation. We matter, but we are not quite that important. The Bible is not Google Maps with a route to the end times. If only it were — then we would know everything and could explain everything.
Beware the trap of using the Bible to explain everything. Why would you even want to? I consider it dangerous, because it can be used to justify all manner of wars. "It's written there, so it must be allowed." Even if the text is genuinely predictive, that does not mean what it describes is willed or intended. When we make that mistake, we hide behind these words and ignore the wrongdoing of the state of Israel — and worse, we step over the tens of thousands of lives lost to weapons of destruction.
God Fights, Not Us: A Note on Hegseth and Psalm 144
If we take the text literally: in Ezekiel, it is God — not Israel — who fights. The prayer of Pete Hegseth, the U.S. Secretary of Defense, asking God to give "complete victory over those who wish to do them harm," falls rather flat in that light. I also question his reading of Psalm 144: "Praise be to the Lord my Rock, who trains my hands for war, my fingers for battle." What kind of battle are we talking about? You cannot simply enlist God on your side in military conflicts. The age of the Crusades is over.
And Yet, Also Yes: The Enduring Message
But also yes: the message that resonates through this text is one that deserves to be heard again and again. For after God declares that he is the Lord their God, he adds that he handed them over to their enemies because they "were unfaithful to me" (Ezekiel 39:22–23). The warning embedded in this text is far more important than the historical precision of the prophecy itself. That warning reads: "Israel, stop what you are doing. End the injustice — or else..." God is holy and calls his people — and all of humanity — to holiness. That is the central theme of the entire book (Keith W. Karley, 1974). And holiness is mercy. We must keep listening to what is good and right to do.
In Closing: In the Light of Jesus
And that is where I want to end this post — with the words of Jesus, around whom this text ultimately revolves. Everything we do and everything we read, including in the Old Testament, must be seen in the light of his person and his life. So what is my calling as his follower, as someone who bears his name? To do what he says we must do. That surpasses all prophecies, and it is also the decision each one of us faces. What carries more weight: an Old Testament prophecy, or the words of Jesus? The comfortable feeling of knowing what is going to happen, or faithfulness to the way he lived? That is a life in the sign of service.
As followers of Jesus, we certainly have a political presence — but it is shaped by the power of love: loving your enemies and turning the other cheek. That is our political strength, a gentle strength, and not everyone finds that particularly impressive or forceful. But it would already help if we stopped playing political analysts, because we do not have all the answers. Let us simply do what the Lord of lords asks of us. And that, if we are honest, is already hard enough.
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