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In Ezekiel, Who Is the Prince?

The book of Ezekiel is rich with visions—wheels within wheels, cherubim, dry bones, and precise architectural blueprints. But nestled within its symbolic layers is a figure simply referred to as “the prince.” He is not the high priest. He is not Ezekiel. He is not God. He appears again and again in the final chapters—present, honoured, but curiously undefined.

So who is this prince?

According to Neville Goddard’s symbolic method of interpretation—where every biblical figure represents a state of consciousness—this mysterious prince takes on profound meaning. He is not a man, but a principle.


The Prince as the Awakened Individual

In Ezekiel 44–46, the prince is granted privileges others are denied. He may enter by the eastern gate—a gate otherwise shut to all. He may eat bread before the Lord. He does not offer sacrifices like a priest. He does not stand as prophet. He sits in stillness. He dines in presence.

According to Neville, this prince symbolises the individual who has awakened to their divine inheritance—the power of imagination. He is not yet the full embodiment of God, but he no longer sees God as separate.

“The mystery hid from the ages... Christ in you, the hope of glory.”
Neville Goddard

The prince is you, the moment you begin to identify with your inner world as the source of all creation.


Why He Is Not a Priest

In Neville’s teachings, the priesthood represents religious form—rituals, shadows, traditions. These point to truth but are not the truth itself.

The prince, however, does not officiate. He participates. He eats. He sits. He is at home.

He no longer performs for God—he abides with God.

Where the priest serves at the altar, the prince is allowed to commune. The shift is subtle but radical. The prince lives from imagination, not in homage to it. He knows the altar is within.


The Shut Gate and the Secret Within

“Then said the Lord unto me; This gate shall be shut, it shall not be opened, and no man shall enter in by it; because the Lord, the God of Israel, hath entered in by it, therefore it shall be shut.”
Ezekiel 44:2

The gate is shut because God has entered into man through imagination. The path is no longer external—it is internal. And no “man” can enter in that way again because God has already descended into you.

But then:

“It is for the prince. The prince shall sit in it to eat bread before the Lord.”
Ezekiel 44:3

Only the prince may sit at that gate—because he is the individual who has recognised the indwelling God. He enters within, not to beg, not to worship—but to commune, to eat, to dwell.

He is the bridge between humanity and divinity. He is man, made aware.


North and East: The Movements of Consciousness

Ezekiel’s temple design places the prince moving between the north and the east. In symbolic terms, these directions are more than mere geography—they speak to movements within consciousness.

  • East represents the place of origin, the dawning of light, and the emergence of awareness. It is from the east that the glory of God returns, and it is through the eastern gate that the prince enters. Spiritually, this speaks of awakening from within—a realisation of the self as divine imagination. The east is the gate of beginnings, of illumination, of inner sunrise.

  • North, by contrast, often symbolises reserve, mystery, hidden potential, or the unconscious. It is cold, hidden from the sun—like latent power waiting to be claimed. In Isaiah, destruction is said to come from the north, but in Ezekiel, the north is where the prince enters and exits the inner court. This suggests the prince moves between the unconscious (north) and the conscious (east) realms—drawing forth desire from the hidden depths, and manifesting it through assumed awareness.

Neville repeatedly emphasised the importance of lifting subconscious impressions into conscious feeling. The movement from north to east, then, mirrors the journey from unfelt desire to felt reality—from latent to lived.


Bread Before the Lord

Neville taught that bread represents the assumption—the substance of things hoped for. To eat bread before the Lord is to dwell in the feeling of the wish fulfilled, to consume the reality of your imagined state, and to become one with it.

“Man becomes what he imagines. He feeds upon his imagination.”
Neville Goddard

The prince eats. The priest performs. One points to truth. The other becomes it.


So, Who Is the Prince?

He is you, when you:

  • Stop seeking externally, and start imagining internally.

  • Stop obeying ritual, and start embodying the truth.

  • Stop begging for bread, and start eating the bread of life—the felt reality of your desire, assumed and accepted.

  • Move from the north of hidden longing to the east of creative awakening.

The prince is not a historic figure. He is the awakened state of consciousness—the soul who knows imagination creates reality and lives accordingly.


Conclusion: A Blueprint for Inner Royalty

To ask “Who is the prince in Ezekiel?” is really to ask:
Who am I, once I know the truth?

Ezekiel’s vision is not prophecy in the predictive sense—it is blueprint.

  • The temple is your consciousness.

  • The gate is your inner awareness.

  • The bread is your assumption.

  • The north is your hidden potential.

  • The east is your moment of awakening.

  • And the prince… is you.

Not when you try to become worthy, but the moment you realise you already are.

So sit in the gate. Eat the bread. And rule—not over others, but over your own inner world. For he who governs imagination governs reality.


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