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 revelation of the Bible—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 Emerging New Self
The prince represents a very specific psychological moment: the point at which you have turned to imagination as the creative power, but have not yet reached full mastery. He is not the King—symbol of complete dominion and full union with the imagination—but he is no longer among the “people”, who symbolise the ordinary, reactive, unawakened mind.
The prince is the new identity beginning to stabilise. It is the self that has stepped out of the old state but is still learning to occupy the new one. Psychologically, he is the incipient assumption—the version of you that has chosen a new direction and is now being shaped by it.
In Neville’s terms, the prince is the state of consciousness that appears after you have dared to assume, but before the outer world confirms it. He is the inner man in the process of becoming the outer fact.
The Prince as the Disciplined Imagination in Training
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.
This is symbolic of a consciousness in transition. The prince represents the imagination learning consistency. He is disciplined, structured, and governed by certain boundaries—just as a new assumption must be protected from falling back into old patterns.
He is not yet at the effortless freedom represented by kingship, but he is no longer wandering. He is being shaped by the inner temple—the structure of the new identity.
A Mediator Between Old States and the Inner Sanctuary
The “people” in these chapters symbolise your lingering old beliefs, reactions, and emotional reflexes. The “sanctuary” is the innermost awareness of “I AM that I AM”. The prince moves between them.
He symbolises the part of you that:
- takes responsibility for your new inner life,
- returns repeatedly to the assumed state,
- guides the subconscious into alignment,
- acts as bridge between what you once were and what you are becoming.
He brings offerings “on behalf of the people” because you offer up old states by consciously dwelling in the new one.
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 now internal. No “man” (no external effort, no external religion) can enter through that way again because God has already descended into you.
“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 the gate because he symbolises the individual who has recognised imagining as the indwelling God. He enters into the peyche—not to beg or worship, but to commune.
He is the personified bridge between assumption and manifestation—the state in which you know who you are, but are not yet enthroned in full mastery which the chapter on sin defines.
North and East: Movements of Consciousness
The prince moves between the north and the east in Ezekiel’s temple design. Psychologically, these directions reflect internal processes:
- East: origin, illumination, the dawning of awareness. The east symbolises the awakening of imagination—the inner sunrise.
- North: hiddenness, the subconscious, latent power. The prince enters from the north, drawing up desire from the depths, and moves toward the east—bringing what was latent into conscious feeling.
This mirrors Bible teaching: unfulfilled desires must be lifted out of the subconscious into conscious feeling to become reality.
Bread Before the Lord
The Bible revealed particularly through the stories of Joseph and his brothers, the feeding of the 5,000, and the last supper that bread symbolises assumption—the felt reality of the wish fulfilled. To eat bread before the Lord is to dwell in the state desired, to consume it, to become one with it.
“Man becomes what he imagines. He feeds upon his imagination.”
— Neville Goddard
The priest performs. The prince partakes. The priest points to truth. The prince embodies it.
So, Who Is the Prince?
He is you, when you:
- stop seeking externally and begin imagining internally;
- move from ritual into embodiment;
- stop begging for outcomes and start eating the bread of assumed fulfilment;
- draw hidden longing from the north into the illuminated east of awareness.
The prince is not a historical figure. He is the transitional self—the new consciousness forming between the old state and the fully awakened state. He is the self that has recognised imagination as God and is learning to live 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 predictive prophecy—it is psychological architecture.
- 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 feel worthy, but the moment you recognise that you already are.
Sit in the gate. Eat the bread. And govern—not others, but your own imagination. For he who governs imagination governs reality.