What do you think?
Rate this book
Children of Ezekiel: Aliens, UFOs, the Crisis of Race, and the Advent of End Time
Are Milton’s Paradise Lost , Ronald Reagan’s “Star Wars” missile defense program, our culture’s fascination with UFOs and alien abductions, and Louis Farrakhan’s views on racial Armageddon somehow linked? In Children of Ezekiel Michael Lieb reveals the connections between these phenomena and the way culture has persistently related the divine to the technological. In a work of special interest at the approach of the millennium, Lieb traces these and other diverse cultural moments—all descended from the prophet Ezekiel’s vision of a fiery divine chariot in the sky—from antiquity to the present, across high and low culture, to reveal the pervasive impact of this visionary experience on the modern world.
Beginning with the merkabah chariot literature of Hebrew and Gnostic mysticism, Lieb shows how religiously inspired people concerned with annihilating their heretical enemies seized on Ezekiel’s vision as revealing the technologically superior instrument of God’s righteous anger. He describes how many who seek to know the unknowable that is the power of God conceive it in technological terms—and how that power is associated with political aims and a heralding of the end of time. For Milton, Ezekiel’s chariot becomes the vehicle in which the Son of God does battle with the rebellious angels. In the modern age, it may take the form of a locomotive, tank, airplane, missile, or UFO. Technology itself is seen as a divine gift and an embodiment of God in the temporal world. As Lieb demonstrates, the impetus to produce modern technology arises not merely from the desire for profit or military might but also from religious-spiritual motives.
Including discussions of conservative evangelical Christian movements, Reagan’s ballistic shooting gallery in the sky, and the Nation of Islam’s vision of the “mother plane” as the vehicle of retribution in the war against racial oppression, Children of Ezekiel will enthrall readers who have been captivated, either through religious belief or intellectual interests, by a common thread uniting millennial religious beliefs, racial conflict, and political and militaristic aspirations.
Beginning with the merkabah chariot literature of Hebrew and Gnostic mysticism, Lieb shows how religiously inspired people concerned with annihilating their heretical enemies seized on Ezekiel’s vision as revealing the technologically superior instrument of God’s righteous anger. He describes how many who seek to know the unknowable that is the power of God conceive it in technological terms—and how that power is associated with political aims and a heralding of the end of time. For Milton, Ezekiel’s chariot becomes the vehicle in which the Son of God does battle with the rebellious angels. In the modern age, it may take the form of a locomotive, tank, airplane, missile, or UFO. Technology itself is seen as a divine gift and an embodiment of God in the temporal world. As Lieb demonstrates, the impetus to produce modern technology arises not merely from the desire for profit or military might but also from religious-spiritual motives.
Including discussions of conservative evangelical Christian movements, Reagan’s ballistic shooting gallery in the sky, and the Nation of Islam’s vision of the “mother plane” as the vehicle of retribution in the war against racial oppression, Children of Ezekiel will enthrall readers who have been captivated, either through religious belief or intellectual interests, by a common thread uniting millennial religious beliefs, racial conflict, and political and militaristic aspirations.
- GenresReligionNonfiction
320 pages, Paperback
First published November 9, 1998
2 people are currently reading
28 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
February 6, 2014
Lieb came across an interesting intellectual tradition, but didn't really seem to know what to do with it--and so there is a lot of unnecessary jargon in place of argument.
The basic idea is that Ezekiel's vision, as describe din the Bible, has been taken up and used in different ways by subsequent groups. (There is a lot of Arthur Lovejoy's history of ideas here, although I suspect Lieb would not like the comparison). The first use that Lieb considers is Milton's appropriation of Ezekiel's vision in Paradise Lost. He then skips several centuries and across a number of countries to look at the way the vision was incorporated into theories of occult science--most notably by those who reinterpreted Ezekiel's vision as an early flying saucer.
Lieb needlessly complicates his argument, first by claiming that the vision is inherently ineffable, so that any interpretation represents a reification. Second, he points out that these interpretations all share the same tendency of imagining the chariot in the sky as an actual technology. Which is fair enough. But he wants this point to be more profound than it is, and so enlists Heidegger in offering a definition of technology--as a revealing--and implies that there is something like a will-to-technology working itself out in this constant turn to technology as an explanation for the vision. Maybe, but saying so doesn't really add anything to our understanding of the vision or its various appropriations.
He also traces the vision through the thought of Ronald Reagan, and connects it with his development of the SDI (so-called Star Wars). The point is a good one, and finally gets at some of the real-world consequences of these appropriations. Reagan had an apocalyptic eschatology and referred frequently to Ezekiel: these were the end times, and a new prophet would be rising. This vision influenced his geopolitical stances, including the development of the Star Wars missile defense system, which is kind of a chariot in the sky. Agin, though, he needlessly brings in jargon (the 'nuclearization' of the vision) and struggles to draw out connections--he wants to write about popular culture, but is clearly uncomfortable doing so, spending so much time justifying himself and so awkwardly setting up the relevant comparisons that they come off as stodgy rather than insightful. Like your grandpa trying to rap.
The second half of the book goes in a completely different direction. Lieb looks at the way that the Ezekiel vision has been central to the theology of the Nation of Islam. Rather than skipping across time and space, he drills down into that culture. There are a couple of nice points here--especially the way he shows that the Ezekiel vision came to the leaders of the Nation not just through Biblical scholarship, but also through folklore--which is a subject he really needed to interweave throughout the book, given its theme of the passing on of lore.
These chapters, though, are padded with lots of extraneous discussion of the Nation of Islam, so much so that the whole Ezekiel connection is lost. One gets the sense that at this point what Lieb really wanted to do was to investigate the Nation as a whole. It is fascinating to hear the science fictional doctrine behind the Nation--white people created by a rogue black scientist in the earliest times, experimenting with genetic engineering, for example. For all that the Nation of Islam is Muslim, it seems clear from Lieb's description that it really is another outgrowth of esoteric Christianity, like Christian Science, Mormonism, and New Thought. There are also connections with Dianetics, obviously, in their science fictional dramas. Eventually, Lieb does get back to his point, and shows how Ezekiel's vision was used by (certain sectors) of the Nation of Islam as a symbol of the coming extermination of the white race.
The whole thing would seem to have better made an article, and the second section its own book. (Lieb is clearly most comfortable writing about religion.)
Also, I think the book missed an opportunity by ending with the Nation of Islam. It's clear there was an influence--or at least an elective affinity--between the Nation's Theology and the development of funk music. The Nation's Mother Plane is clearly a precursor for George Clinton's Mother Ship. But that would have pushed Lieb, again, in directions that made him uneasy.
The basic idea is that Ezekiel's vision, as describe din the Bible, has been taken up and used in different ways by subsequent groups. (There is a lot of Arthur Lovejoy's history of ideas here, although I suspect Lieb would not like the comparison). The first use that Lieb considers is Milton's appropriation of Ezekiel's vision in Paradise Lost. He then skips several centuries and across a number of countries to look at the way the vision was incorporated into theories of occult science--most notably by those who reinterpreted Ezekiel's vision as an early flying saucer.
Lieb needlessly complicates his argument, first by claiming that the vision is inherently ineffable, so that any interpretation represents a reification. Second, he points out that these interpretations all share the same tendency of imagining the chariot in the sky as an actual technology. Which is fair enough. But he wants this point to be more profound than it is, and so enlists Heidegger in offering a definition of technology--as a revealing--and implies that there is something like a will-to-technology working itself out in this constant turn to technology as an explanation for the vision. Maybe, but saying so doesn't really add anything to our understanding of the vision or its various appropriations.
He also traces the vision through the thought of Ronald Reagan, and connects it with his development of the SDI (so-called Star Wars). The point is a good one, and finally gets at some of the real-world consequences of these appropriations. Reagan had an apocalyptic eschatology and referred frequently to Ezekiel: these were the end times, and a new prophet would be rising. This vision influenced his geopolitical stances, including the development of the Star Wars missile defense system, which is kind of a chariot in the sky. Agin, though, he needlessly brings in jargon (the 'nuclearization' of the vision) and struggles to draw out connections--he wants to write about popular culture, but is clearly uncomfortable doing so, spending so much time justifying himself and so awkwardly setting up the relevant comparisons that they come off as stodgy rather than insightful. Like your grandpa trying to rap.
The second half of the book goes in a completely different direction. Lieb looks at the way that the Ezekiel vision has been central to the theology of the Nation of Islam. Rather than skipping across time and space, he drills down into that culture. There are a couple of nice points here--especially the way he shows that the Ezekiel vision came to the leaders of the Nation not just through Biblical scholarship, but also through folklore--which is a subject he really needed to interweave throughout the book, given its theme of the passing on of lore.
These chapters, though, are padded with lots of extraneous discussion of the Nation of Islam, so much so that the whole Ezekiel connection is lost. One gets the sense that at this point what Lieb really wanted to do was to investigate the Nation as a whole. It is fascinating to hear the science fictional doctrine behind the Nation--white people created by a rogue black scientist in the earliest times, experimenting with genetic engineering, for example. For all that the Nation of Islam is Muslim, it seems clear from Lieb's description that it really is another outgrowth of esoteric Christianity, like Christian Science, Mormonism, and New Thought. There are also connections with Dianetics, obviously, in their science fictional dramas. Eventually, Lieb does get back to his point, and shows how Ezekiel's vision was used by (certain sectors) of the Nation of Islam as a symbol of the coming extermination of the white race.
The whole thing would seem to have better made an article, and the second section its own book. (Lieb is clearly most comfortable writing about religion.)
Also, I think the book missed an opportunity by ending with the Nation of Islam. It's clear there was an influence--or at least an elective affinity--between the Nation's Theology and the development of funk music. The Nation's Mother Plane is clearly a precursor for George Clinton's Mother Ship. But that would have pushed Lieb, again, in directions that made him uneasy.
December 13, 2025
Loved it
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews