Let’s Become Repairers of Seams
Ezekiel 27 portrays the downfall of Tyre, a city emblematic of worldly wealth and arrogance. Because Scripture elsewhere presents the king of Tyre as a proud ruler who exalted himself as a god, interpreters often view him as a type of Satan, the adversary of God.
Today’s focus narrows to one phrase in Ezekiel 27:27—“repairers of seams.” The Hebrew for “seam,” “bedeq”, means a crack, breach, gap, or leak; used verbally (badaq), it can mean to split or to repair. The term rendered “repairers,” “chazaq”, means to strengthen or restore.
Together they depict gaps that must be conscientiously sealed. Everyone grasps the picture: if a ship leaks, you seal it. Through this simple image God calls us to mend the breaches in our lives and community.
The first breach to repair is pride. Consider Noah’s ark, Scripture’s most famous vessel. God gave precise dimensions and, crucially, commanded that it be coated inside and out with pitch (kaphar)—a tar that sealed every crack against the floodwaters. Literally, the ark was protected from deluge; spiritually, it was guarded from the sins of a generation swollen with violence and self-will.
Genesis says human wickedness had become great, the thoughts of the heart continually evil. The narrative distinguishes “sons of God” and “daughters of men,” portraying a mingling in which those called to guard God’s word and purposes drifted into worldly desires. Instead of occupying their God-given place, they followed appetite and appearance.
The faithful remnant shrank until only Noah’s family of eight remained. Ezekiel 28 gives the inner logic of such corruption: the leader of Tyre boasts, “I am a god,” enthroned “in the heart of the seas.” To “sit in the seat of God” is to enthrone self—substituting personal preference for divine will. That posture is the essence of pride.
The question, then, is whether we still care about God’s plan—His redemptive history to save fallen people, grant eternal life, and bring them into His kingdom—or whether we live orbiting our own concerns. The call is to seal every inner crack with the pitch of God’s Word, expelling unbelieving thoughts and fixing our eyes on the Father who is steadily fulfilling His will.
The second breach to repair is in the temple—that is, in the church. The paired words “bedeq” and “chazaq” reappear in accounts of temple restoration under Judah’s kings. In Jehoash’s reign (2 Kings 12) and in Josiah’s (2 Chronicles 34), offerings were gathered so the priests could “repair the damages” wherever breaches were found. Under Athaliah’s Baal-driven regime, the temple had suffered neglect and desecration; sacred spaces cracked, and fixtures broke.
Repairs were not only architectural—they signalled a spiritual return to proper worship. Today, the “temple” can have literal cracks—worn facilities and broken equipment—but the deeper breach is when people are not in their God-appointed place. Jesus warned that when an unclean spirit leaves a person and finds the “house” empty, it returns with worse company, leaving the person in a graver state. Emptiness invites occupation.
Our founding pastor warned similarly: if we absent ourselves from worship, Satan will occupy our seat and rob us of grace prepared for us. God’s call is never merely individualistic. He saves us in order to use us in saving others. It is not the Father’s will that any of His little ones perish; the Son’s will is to lose none the Father gives Him, but to raise them up at the last day. And the way this saving mission advances is through the church obeying Christ’s Great Commission—to go, make disciples of all nations, baptize, and teach.
This makes presence and participation more than optional extras; they are repairs that keep the ark seaworthy. Our community presently gathers for Sunday worship, Wednesday Bible study, and Saturday dawn service. But if just a few stop coming—if midweek attendance dwindles to one or two—the study cannot continue. Over time the church can shrink into a Sunday-only gathering. A Sunday-only model is not inherently wrong, but is it our desire? Or do we long for a church that meets through the week, receives steady nourishment from the Word, grows in unity, and labors together? The shape of the church mirrors the participation of its people. Ownership is the attitude that says, “This is my Father’s house; I will be in my place so grace is not left unreceived and work is not left undone.”
The image of Noah’s ark returns as a final exhortation. The church is the ark of salvation in a storm-tossed world. As the ark carried pairs of creatures, so we are to bring in many souls and present them to God.
If leaks appear—cracks in faith, neglect of the Word, prayerlessness, division, cynicism, or simple absence—those breaches must be sealed. In practice this means personal repentance from pride, re-centered on God’s will rather than our own, and corporate commitment to show up, serve, and strengthen what is weak.
It means letting Scripture be the pitch that closes gaps in belief and practice, and letting obedience be the hammer that fastens the planks together.
This coming week’s Annual General Meeting is therefore more than budgets and accounts; it is a moment of calling. We will recognize and appoint those who will shoulder God’s work for the next two years—people willing to see the cracks and step in to mend them.
To look away from the breaches is escapism; to follow at a distance and disappear when things get hard is opportunism. The church needs neither of these. It needs servants who first repair the seams of their own hearts and then help repair the seams of the house of God, people whose faithfulness refreshes God’s heart like cold water on a scorching day.
May we hear the call, answer “Amen,” and become repairers of the breach—sealed by the Word, strengthened by grace, and set to labor until the ark carries many safely home. I bless you in the name of the Lord. Amen.
The Lord's Covenant Church Malaysia 