Did God Contradict Himself? Harmonizing Egyptian Firstborn Deaths with Ezekiel 18:23

Did God Contradict Himself? Harmonizing Egyptian Firstborn Deaths with Ezekiel 18:23

One of the hardest tensions in Scripture is this:

In Exodus, God strikes down the Egyptian firstborn—including children—in judgment.

But in Ezekiel 18:23, God says He has no pleasure in the death of the wicked, and explicitly says children will not die for their parents’ sins.

So how do we make sense of this?

Did God change? Was He contradicting Himself? Or is there a deeper, covenantal and relational logic at work?

To answer this, we must leave behind rigid, static theology and enter the world of open theism, divine regret, and relational justice.

1. Ezekiel 18: God’s Covenant Justice and Moral Clarity

"The soul who sins shall die. The son shall not bear the guilt of the father… Have I any pleasure in the death of the wicked? declares the Lord God, and not rather that he should turn from his way and live?" (Ezekiel 18:20, 23)

This is a clear rejection of intergenerational guilt as a moral principle. God is not pleased with death, and He desires repentance. No one is held guilty for someone else’s sin just because they are related.

This passage is rooted in individual moral responsibility. It was given during the exile, when Israelites were accusing God of injustice for punishing them “for their fathers' sins.” God answers: No. I judge each person according to their own heart.

But Ezekiel is speaking of God’s covenantal dealings with His own people, under prophetic warning and relationship. The Egyptians were not part of that covenant.

2. Exodus: A National Judgment, Not Individual Condemnation

In Exodus, the death of the firstborn was not a verdict of personal guilt on each child. It was a national act of judgment against an empire that had oppressed, enslaved, and murdered God’s people for generations.

The Egyptians had thrown Hebrew babies into the Nile (Exodus 1:22). They had crushed Israel under hard labor. The firstborns represented the strength and future of Egypt—its legacy, security, and divine favor. By striking the firstborn, God wasn't saying each child was guilty—but rather that the nation’s system was being dismantled in judgment.

This is similar to the way cities were destroyed in divine judgment—not because every person inside was equally guilty, but because the whole system had become defiled, and judgment had to fall to bring an end to oppression.

In this light, God was not violating Ezekiel 18. He was judging an entire national structure that had been given years of opportunity to repent—and refused.

3. Open Theism: A God Who Engages, Warns, and Regrets

Open Theism teaches that God is not frozen in a blueprint of timeless decrees. Instead, He is relational, responsive, and dynamic. He gives people real choices. He warns, He waits, and sometimes, He even regrets the outcome (Genesis 6:6; 1 Samuel 15:11).

The plagues of Egypt were not sudden. God gave nine escalating signs—each one a chance to turn, to soften, to choose life. Pharaoh hardened his heart. The people followed. The entire system resisted God's call to let His people go.

By the time of the tenth plague, it wasn’t God "changing His mind"—it was God following through on a warning Pharaoh had been given from the very beginning:

“Israel is my firstborn… Let him go, or I will kill your firstborn.” (Exodus 4:22–23)

This is not cold determinism. This is relational justice. God was open to Pharaoh's repentance. But Pharaoh refused, and Egypt paid the price—not because of divine bloodlust, but because of national defiance.

4. Divine Regret: God Does Not Enjoy Judgment

Ezekiel 18:23 comes back into focus here.

"Do I take pleasure in the death of the wicked? declares the Lord."

Even when judgment falls, God grieves. We see this in Genesis 6:6—“It grieved Him to His heart.” God is not unmoved. He is not robotic. Even when He acts in justice, He does not do so with cold pleasure. The death of Egyptian firstborns was real judgment—but also real tragedy. That’s why God protected Israel’s firstborn with the blood of the lamb. Judgment had to fall somewhere. The Passover story shows that God always provides a way of mercy in the midst of wrath.

5. The Bigger Picture: From Judgment to Redemption

Ironically, the death of the Egyptian firstborn leads directly to freedom, Passover, and the Exodus—a pattern that echoes forward to Jesus.

In Egypt: the firstborn died to break chains.

In Christ: God's Firstborn died to set us free eternally.

6. A New Rule: God Shifts the Framework Under Open Theism

The tension between Exodus and Ezekiel isn't just about timing—it's about transition. What we see across the storyline of Scripture is not a static legal code, but a developing covenantal relationship between God and humanity.

Open theism allows us to see that God adapts His governance in response to human history, choices, and covenant maturity. In Exodus, God was dealing with the nations as whole entities—using national acts of judgment to confront empires, establish Israel, and advance redemptive history. But by the time of Ezekiel, God reveals a new ethical standard for how He will relate to individuals under a maturing covenant. This was not a contradiction, but a development. God was establishing a new rule for how justice would operate among His covenant people going forward—a shift from national judgment to personal responsibility.

Under open theism, this makes sense. God is not bound by timeless decrees. He responds to how people grow, how covenants unfold, and how moral understanding deepens. Like a wise parent, He sets rules appropriate to each stage of development. What was once necessary under a theocratic nation-state (Exodus) gives way to a more individualized, relational justice under exile and return (Ezekiel), and ultimately to full reconciliation in Christ. God is not arbitrary—He is responsive. And that responsiveness reaches its climax in Jesus, where God no longer requires judgment to fall on nations or even guilty individuals.

Conclusion 

God does not contradict Himself. He does not rejoice in death, and He does not punish children for their parents’ sins as a moral principle. But in Exodus, we see a God who reluctantly brings judgment on a corrupt and violent empire after patiently offering chance after chance. The firstborn died not because they were guilty, but because Egypt’s system had become incurably hardened, and the entire structure had to fall. Ezekiel reminds us of God's heart. Open theism reminds us of God’s patience. And the cross reminds us that in Christ, God's own son had to take the judgment so we don't have to.