You’ve probably seen the Sunday school version. It’s usually a guy in a robe looking up at some glowing clouds and maybe a couple of winged men floating around. It looks peaceful. It looks "holy" in that traditional, stained-glass sort of way. But if you actually sit down and read the text of the Hebrew Bible, the real picture of Ezekiel's vision in chapter 1 is terrifying. It’s psychedelic. It’s honestly more like a scene from a high-budget sci-fi horror movie than a religious greeting card.
Ezekiel was a priest living in exile by the Chebar Canal in Babylon around 593 BCE. He was thirty years old, the age he should have been starting his service in the Temple in Jerusalem. Instead, he was a refugee. Then, the sky literally cracked open. What he saw wasn’t just a "vision." It was a sensory assault.
The Storm and the Bronze Monsters
The whole thing starts with a massive windstorm blowing in from the north. There's this huge cloud with fire flashing back and forth through it. Ezekiel describes the center of the fire as looking like "gleaming amber" or chashmal in the original Hebrew. This word is tricky. Modern Hebrew uses it for "electricity," and while that’s a bit of an anachronism, it gets the vibe right. It was a high-energy, metallic glow that didn't look natural.
Out of that fire, four "living creatures" appeared. This is where the picture of Ezekiel's vision in chapter 1 starts to break the human brain. These weren't just angels. They had human forms, sure, but each one had four faces: a human, a lion, an ox, and an eagle. Imagine four bodies fused together, each with four wings. Two wings covered their bodies for modesty, and two wings stretched out to touch the wings of the creature next to them.
They didn't turn when they moved. They just shifted instantly in any direction. Their legs were straight, but their feet? Their feet were like the hooves of a calf, sparking like burnished bronze. They moved like lightning. If you try to draw this, it looks like a glitch in the matrix. It’s meant to look like that. The complexity of the design reflects the complexity of the divine presence—something that doesn't fit into our three-dimensional box.
Wheels Within Wheels: The Merkavah
Most people remember the "wheels." You’ve likely heard the old spiritual song "Ezekiel Saw the Wheel." But the actual description is way more intense. Beside each of the four creatures was a wheel on the earth. These wheels didn't look like wood or stone; they looked like beryl (a sea-green gemstone).
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The weirdest part? The construction was a "wheel within a wheel." Scholars like Moshe Greenberg have wrestled with this for decades. Does it mean one wheel inside another like a gimbal? Or two wheels intersecting at right angles so the "chariot" could roll in any direction without turning?
And then there are the eyes. The rims of these massive wheels were "full of eyes round about." This wasn't just a vehicle. It was a sentient, biological machine. When the creatures moved, the wheels moved. When the creatures rose, the wheels rose. The "spirit of the living creatures" was in the wheels themselves. It’s an image of total, effortless sovereignty. It tells the reader that God isn't stuck in a temple in Jerusalem. He’s mobile. He’s got "eyes" everywhere. He’s in Babylon with the exiles, and he’s moved there on a high-tech throne of light.
The Crystal Platform and the Voice of Waters
Above the heads of these creatures was something Ezekiel calls an "expanse." It looked like awesome, terrifying crystal. It wasn't a ceiling; it was a floor. Above this crystal platform was the sound of "many waters." It was loud—like the roar of an army or the voice of the Almighty Himself.
When the creatures stood still, they lowered their wings, and a voice came from above the expanse. This is the buildup. This is the cinematic reveal.
The Man on the Sapphire Throne
At the very top of this chaotic, spinning, multi-faced, eye-covered machinery was a throne. Ezekiel says it looked like it was made of sapphire stone. And sitting on the throne was a figure with "the appearance of a man."
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But he wasn't a man.
From the waist up, he looked like glowing metal, like fire encased in a frame. From the waist down, he was just pure fire. Surrounding him was a brightness that looked like a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day. This is the climax of the picture of Ezekiel's vision in chapter 1. It’s the "appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord."
Notice how many "filters" Ezekiel uses: "the appearance of the likeness of..." He’s struggling. He isn't saying he saw God directly. He’s saying he saw a representation of a representation. It’s a way of protecting the holiness of the divine while still describing the sheer weight of the experience. When Ezekiel saw it, he didn't take notes. He fell face-first onto the ground.
Why This Image Matters Today
Why does this specific imagery still haunt us? Why do we keep trying to paint it?
For one, it’s a direct challenge to the art of the time. In Babylon, the gods were often depicted as statues or hybrid creatures (like the lamassu—winged bulls with human heads). Ezekiel’s vision takes those Babylonian symbols and turns them into footstools for his God. It’s a massive theological "flex." It says that the gods of the empire are just a tiny fraction of the reality of the God of Israel.
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Secondly, it speaks to the feeling of being "out of place." Ezekiel was in a foreign land. He thought he was far from God. This vision proved that God is not tied to a geography. The "wheels" mean he can go anywhere. The "eyes" mean he sees everything, even in the heart of a pagan empire.
Practical Ways to Engage with the Vision
If you're trying to study this or even create your own picture of Ezekiel's vision in chapter 1, you have to stop trying to make it "pretty." It’s supposed to be overwhelming. Here is how you can actually wrap your head around it:
- Read the text without looking at art first. Grab a solid translation (like the ESV or the JPS Tanakh). Write down every physical descriptor. You'll notice that the more you list, the harder it is to visualize as a single, static object.
- Look at ancient Near Eastern archaeology. Check out the "Lamassu" from the Palace of Sargon II. Seeing what Ezekiel saw in his daily life in Babylon helps you understand why the "four-faced creatures" were so significant. He was subverting the local culture.
- Embrace the "un-drawability." Most artists who successfully capture the vibe of Ezekiel 1 use abstraction. Don't try to draw a literal ox face on a human body. Try to capture the "gleam" and the "storm."
- Focus on the sound. Ezekiel mentions the noise as much as the sight. If you're a musician or a filmmaker, think about the "roar of many waters." This vision was an immersive, 4D experience.
The biggest mistake people make is thinking this vision is just about "the future" or "aliens." (Yes, there are plenty of theories about ancient astronauts, but those usually ignore the deep 6th-century BCE priestly context). This vision was about the present. It was about a God who refuses to stay in a box and who shows up when his people are at their lowest point.
When you look at a picture of Ezekiel's vision in chapter 1, you aren't just looking at a weird dream. You're looking at a claim of total universal authority. It’s messy, it’s loud, and it’s complicated. Just like the world Ezekiel was living in.
To truly understand the depth of this chapter, compare Ezekiel’s description with the "living creatures" mentioned in the Book of Revelation, chapter 4. You'll see how the imagery evolved from Ezekiel’s terrifying "wheels" into the liturgical worship of the heavenly throne room. Studying these two side-by-side provides a clearer map of how biblical writers visualized the intersection of the human and the divine.