What does it mean to be just? Across the pages of Scripture, this question is not merely ethical; it is existential. It touches the very core of how humanity stands before God and how divine justice and mercy meet in human life. The prophet Ezekiel and the apostle Paul, separated by centuries and covenants, both speak about “the just man.” Yet their portrayals emerge from different dispensations — one under the weight of the Law, the other under the grace of the Gospel. To read them together is to see the moral and spiritual journey from human righteousness to divine justification, from the stone tablets of Sinai to the Spirit-written law of the heart.
In Ezekiel 18:5–9, the prophet sketches a vivid portrait of the just man: “But if a man is just and does what is lawful and right; if he has not eaten on the mountains, nor lifted up his eyes to idols of the house of Israel, nor defiled his neighbor’s wife, nor approached a woman during her impurity; if he has not oppressed anyone, but has given his bread to the hungry and covered the naked with clothing; if he has walked in My statutes and kept My judgments faithfully—he is just; he shall surely live, says the Lord God.” Here, righteousness is practical, not theoretical.
It is defined by doing what is right. The just man is a covenant-keeper — one whose life mirrors divine standards in both worship and conduct. He honors God, practices sexual purity, treats others fairly, and extends compassion to the needy. He is fair in judgment and faithful in devotion. In Ezekiel’s theology, justice is not an abstract principle; it is a lifestyle of obedience that keeps covenant with both God and community.
The just man in Ezekiel’s world is a living embodiment of holiness and humanity intertwined. He does not separate piety from ethics — his devotion to God manifests in how he treats people. “He shall surely live,” God says — for in the covenant economy, obedience was the pathway to life.
To be just was to be whole: to live in alignment with God’s statutes, to shun idols, to act righteously toward one’s neighbor, and to maintain purity within one’s home. Such a man was not merely religious; he was relationally upright. His righteousness was visible — expressed in fairness, generosity, and integrity. The emphasis was behavioral — righteousness was something to be done, a way of life to be maintained. Ezekiel’s audience, the exiled house of Israel, needed this reminder. They were suffering the consequences of generations of disobedience, and Ezekiel’s message was clear: the righteous man lives by doing righteousness, while the soul that sins shall die. The standard was exacting, yet it was the moral foundation of the covenant community.
Centuries later, Paul, the apostle of grace, writes in Romans 1:17: “For in the gospel the righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith; as it is written, ‘The just shall live by faith.’” Paul quotes the prophet Habakkuk but unfolds its meaning in the light of Christ’s redemptive work. For him, the just is not one who achieves righteousness by works of the law but one who receives righteousness by faith in Jesus Christ. “To him who does not work but believes on Him who justifies the ungodly,” Paul writes, “his faith is accounted for righteousness” (Romans 4:5). Ezekiel’s just man lives right to be accepted by God; Paul’s just man believes right and is accepted — and then lives right. One begins with performance; the other with faith. One climbs toward righteousness; the other begins from it and walks it out.
Paul’s revelation does not cancel Ezekiel’s moral vision; instead, it provides the inner power to fulfill it. The law could command righteousness but could not produce it. Grace, through faith, writes that same law upon the heart, as Romans 8:4 declares: “That the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us who walk not after the flesh but after the Spirit.” Thus, the just man of Romans is not morally indifferent; he is morally empowered. His obedience is no longer a burden but a response to mercy. His holiness is not self-manufactured but Spirit-enabled. Where Ezekiel’s just man strives to live up to God’s law, Paul’s just man lives out of God’s life within him.
To bring both together, we might say: the just man in Ezekiel represents the ethics of the just, while the just man in Romans reveals the essence of the just. Ezekiel defines righteousness by what a man does; Paul defines it by what God has done in Christ. Ezekiel’s man obeys to live; Paul’s man lives to obey. Yet both share a moral core — they walk uprightly, they honor God, and they do not wrong their neighbor. The continuity is striking: in both dispensations, righteousness is relational. It begins vertically with God and extends horizontally toward people.
The just man of Ezekiel and the just man of Paul, then, are not adversaries but allies in revelation. They represent two sides of a divine progression — from the law that defines righteousness to the grace that imparts it. In Ezekiel, righteousness is earned by conduct and expressed through ethical living; in Paul, righteousness is imputed by grace and expressed through spiritual transformation. Ezekiel’s just man acts rightly because the law commands him; Paul’s just man acts rightly because the Spirit compels him. In Ezekiel, righteousness is motivated by the fear of judgment; in Paul, it is motivated by the love of Christ. Yet both arrive at the same outcome — life. “He shall surely live,” says Ezekiel; “He has eternal life,” says Paul.
It would be a mistake to put Ezekiel’s moral code against Paul’s message of faith. They are not in competition but in completion. Ezekiel speaks to man’s responsibility; Paul speaks to man’s inability — and God’s gracious provision in Christ. Where Ezekiel commands, “Do and live,” Paul proclaims, “Believe and live.” The Gospel does not lower the bar of righteousness; it lifts the man to where he can live it. Grace fulfills what the law began, for in Christ, justice and mercy kiss. God does not abandon justice to show mercy; He satisfies justice through the blood of Christ so that mercy might flow righteously. The just man in Romans stands not on moral achievement but on divine acquittal — a sinner made saint by grace, now living out what the law once demanded.
In our time, the tension between ethics and faith remains. Some insist that righteousness is all about morality; others claim it is all about belief. Yet the biblical balance holds: faith without works is dead; works without faith are hollow. The just man today must, therefore, be both Ezekiel’s and Paul’s man — one whose faith births obedience and whose obedience bears witness to faith. He believes deeply and lives cleanly. He walks humbly with God and acts justly with men. His life is not legalistic but lawful; not self-righteous but Spirit-led. He understands that justification and sanctification are not opposites but companions — one declares him righteous, the other develops him in righteousness.
Ezekiel’s just man shows us what righteousness looks like; Paul’s just man shows us where it comes from. In the end, both point to Christ — the perfectly Just One — who lived righteously under the Law and died graciously under sin, that we might live justly under grace. In Him, the moral law finds its fulfillment, and the covenant of grace finds its expression. The Gospel thus restores what the Law required. The just man today is one who has been made right with God and lives right before men, whose faith is not idle but active, whose worship is not mechanical but merciful. He carries within him both the conscience of Ezekiel’s justice and the confidence of Paul’s faith.
The ancient prophet and the apostle of grace, though separated by centuries, meet at the same altar — the altar of divine righteousness. One declares the law of God; the other unveils the life of God. Together they testify that true righteousness is both gift and responsibility, both grace received and goodness lived. The just shall live by faith, but that faith must still make a man just. And so the just man stands like a tree beside living waters — rooted in faith, clothed in grace, and bearing the fruit of obedience in every season. His leaves do not wither because mercy is his moisture, and truth is his trunk. The winds of culture may blow, the floods of moral confusion may rise, but he remains — upright, balanced, and deeply anchored in God. For to be just is not merely to stand right before men, but to stand still before God, steady as a mountain that bows only to the wind of the Spirit.
• Sunday Ogidigbo, Senior Pastor, Holyhill Church, Abuja. He writes on faith, leadership, and the intersection of spirituality and culture. Twitter/Instagram/Facebook: @SOgidigbo. Email: [email protected]
