Thus saith the Lord Jehovah I will also take of the highest branch of the lofty cedar, and will set it; I will crop off from the top of its young shoots a tender one, and I will plant it upon a high and eminent mountain
Ezekiel's parable has just ended in ruin: a king who broke his oath, a vine torn up, a nation carried off. Then God speaks in the first person and plants the tree Himself — so who is this tender shoot, and what future does a broken royal line have?
The chapter has been full of what other hands did. A great eagle cropped the cedar; a king made and broke covenants. Now the same verbs return with a new subject. God says "I will take," "I will set it out," "I will plant it." One writer sets this against the eagle, which was only the instrument of discipline.
While avenging their breaking of the covenant, God will surely not forget His own. While the rod is on David's house for its unfaithfulness, God gives the assurance at once. He is not like man, that He should change His mind. He will be to Israel at last what the Babylonian eagle could only be by contrast. That eagle stood for God's tender hand in their present discipline.
The cedar in the parable stood for something, and so does the sprig taken from it. Commentators name the mountain too: Zion, the hill of Jerusalem.
The cedar is the royal house of David. God in His sovereignty promises to take "from the topmost of its young twigs a tender one, and I myself will plant it on a high and lofty mountain." This tender one is the Messiah, the Son of David. It is the same promise given in the book of Isaiah: "There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit" (Isa. 11:1). "He grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground" (Isa. 53:2). The high and lofty mountain pictures Mount Zion, and the kingdom of Messiah is described in the closing verses of the chapter.
The word "tender" is not decoration. It marks the lowliness the King accepted before any planting on a mountain top. One writer traces that lowliness into the details of Jesus' life.
He could not have been broken in conscience, as we must be. He was stainless and spotless, with no corruption within and no blemish without... But He was broken in circumstances. For the ends of God's glory and the blessing of His people, the Lord Jesus was, by His own will, broken in circumstances. The heir of the throne was a carpenter. The Lord of the earth and everything in it had nowhere to lay His head. He was "a tender twig," a "low tree," a "dry tree."
The same writer holds the two halves of the picture together as one Person at two moments:
The "tender twig" of our prophet is the Nazarene Jesus; the "goodly cedar" with its boughs and fruit is the millennial Jesus. But it is the same Jesus who vindicates and displays and glorifies all the thoughts and principles and truth of God.
Nothing in the verse is conditional. Israel has no terms to meet and no covenant to repair first — only what God says He will do.
Here there is no question of legal conditions at all. Nor does the breach of covenant we see all through Israel's history affect the Lord's promise in grace when He takes up her cause. It is a new beginning, as we see. It is the branch cropped off by the Lord which now becomes a noble cedar, and all birds of every wing shall dwell in the shadow of its branches. Here at last comes the universal refuge from the oppressor.
The planting ends in a throne.
It is Messiah in His kingdom. He is not suffering on earth, nor coming from heaven, but reigning as the rightful king of Israel. He is later called David, the true Beloved. Under His rule the whole people will come together once more, never again divided by folly, never again falling by idolatrous sin or anything else.
One writer traces the same pattern in another king's story, and then in ours.
After the king of Babylon is broken and humbled under God's mighty hand, God blesses him and lifts him up in His own way at the end. So we learn God's way again: He makes us "tender twigs" before we become "goodly cedars."
- Cropped — the shoot does not climb; God takes it. After the eagles have done their work, the Lord makes Himself the actor in His own parable.
- Tender — the shoot is the promised King from David's line, and He begins low: a carpenter with nowhere to lay His head.
- Planted — the mountain is Zion, and the planting is free grace: no conditions, no covenant terms to repair.
- Goodly — the tender twig becomes the noble cedar. The same Person reigns over a people that folly will never divide again.
- Sheltering — birds of every wing rest in its shade. The tree God plants becomes the world's refuge, and He still works this way: twigs before cedars.
upon the mountain of the height of Israel will I plant it; and it shall bring forth branches, and bear fruit, and become a noble cedar; and under it shall dwell all birds of every wing; in the shadow of the branches thereof shall they dwell.
Ezekiel 17 has been a chapter of judgment: a broken covenant, and a royal house cut down. Then God Himself takes a shoot from that cedar and plants it. Verse 23 tells what grows from it. Who is the twig? Where is the mountain? And who are the birds that shelter in its shade?
One writer names what each image stands for:
The cedar is the royal house of David. In His sovereignty God promises to take "from the topmost of its young twigs a tender one" and "plant it on a high and lofty mountain." This tender one is the Messiah, the Son of David. It is the same promise as given in the book of Isaiah. "There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit" (Isa. 11:1). The high and lofty mountain represents Mount Zion.
The shoot is small and weak before it becomes a tree. One writer says the Lord Jesus lived both parts of that picture.
For the sake of God's glory, and the blessing of His people, the Lord Jesus was, by His own will, broken in circumstances. The heir of the throne was a carpenter. The Lord of the earth and its fullness had nowhere to lay His head. He was "a tender twig," a "low tree," a "dry tree." This is the Jesus of Isaiah 53. That chapter says of Him, "he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him." But in due season God will plant this "tender twig" on a high and lofty mountain.
The whole chapter has been about a covenant broken by man. The promise at its end runs on a different footing, and one writer ties its certainty to the resurrection.
In the resurrection of Him who went down to death for man is the assurance that every promise will be fulfilled... No legal conditions come into it at all. Nor does a broken covenant — the thing we see all through Israel's history. Nothing like that can affect Jehovah's promise in grace when He takes up her cause. It is a new beginning. It is the branch cropped off by Jehovah which now becomes a noble cedar, and all birds of every wing shall dwell in the shadow of its branches. Here comes at last the universal refuge from the oppressor, the beneficent power in which the weakest shall rejoice.
The shade of this tree is open to whoever comes for shelter.
His grace would take the little forgotten branch of the house of David and raise it up in Israel on the mountain of His power. There He would make it a noble cedar, bearing fruit and sheltering all who would come for the protection of its shade. All the powers of the earth should know the word and the works of Jehovah.
The other trees around it stand for something too. One writer places the scene in the millennium — the coming age when Christ reigns on earth:
The trees mentioned here are the earth's great men and powers. They stand alongside the tree of the Lord's planting. This is evidence that the prophecy looks forward to the millennium, when every power and Gentile dynasty will recognise that the kingdom of the Son of David stands above them all.
Is this promise about the church today? One writer says no, and keeps it where Ezekiel sets it — the land, the throne, and the nations.
This is in no way the mystery of the kingdom that we know now. It is in no way the present day, when He and His people are rejected and God works in grace. It is a day of power — a power that judges, yet also does good on earth. It is not the calling of souls out of the world to a glorified Christ on high. It is the land and all the earth blessed under the reign of Him who places the sanctuary of Jehovah among Israel forever.
- Planted — God takes the shoot Himself. The cedar is David's royal house, the tender shoot is the Messiah, and the high mountain is Zion.
- Lowered — that Messiah came first as the tender twig, the low tree, the dry tree. The heir of the throne was a carpenter with nowhere to lay His head.
- Raised — His resurrection secures the promise. It rests on grace, not on conditions Israel failed to keep. It is a new beginning.
- Sheltering — the noble cedar bears fruit and shades birds of every wing. It is a refuge from the oppressor, where the weakest rejoice.
- Acknowledged — the powers of the earth come to own that the Son of David's kingdom is greater. Writers read this as a future reign on earth, not the present call of souls to Christ on high.
And all the trees of the field shall know that I Jehovah have brought down the high tree, have exalted the low tree, have dried up the green tree, and made the dry tree to flourish I Jehovah have spoken, and will do [it].
The chapter ends not with Zedekiah's ruin but with a promise, and this last verse is its moral. It warns every power on earth. Heights and depths are not fixed. The God who speaks here can reverse them, and He plants what He Himself has cut down.
The chapter tells of a king who broke a sworn oath and brought the final blow on Jerusalem. That collapse did not end the story. It cleared the ground for God to act.
This filled up the full measure of sin, and brought on the final judgment. But it left room for the sovereignty of God. He would bring down the high tree and lift up the low tree. He would dry up the green tree and make the dry tree flourish. His grace would take the little forgotten branch of the house of David.
The verse addresses "all the trees of the field." In this kind of prophecy a tree stands for a power in the world.
The trees are mentioned here — that is, the earth's great men and powers — together with the tree of the Lord's planting. This is evidence that the prophecy looks forward to the millennium, when every power and Gentile dynasty will recognise that the kingdom of the Son of David is greater than theirs.
The four trees form two pairs, and the pairs trade places. Writers read the falling side as the Gentile powers — the nations outside Israel — and the rising side as the people who look finished.
The high tree brought low, and the green tree dried up, are the symbol of Gentile world-power. The low tree lifted up and the dry tree made to flourish stand for the restoration of the kingdom to Israel, when the Son of David, our Lord, comes again. Then the Gentile power that flourishes now will dry up. God will lift up Israel, the low tree, and the long dry and barren nation will bring its blessed fruit.
The reversal is not only about nations. One writer reads the humbled trees as a picture of Christ Himself. The rightful heir lived in obscurity.
For the glory of God and the blessing of His people, the Lord Jesus was, by His own will, broken in circumstances. The heir of the throne was a carpenter. The Lord of the earth and everything in it had nowhere to lay His head. He was "a tender twig," a "low tree," a "dry tree." This is the Jesus of Isaiah 53: "He grew up before Him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; He had no form or majesty that we should look at Him, and no beauty that we should desire Him."
The one brought low and the one made to flourish are not two figures. They are the same person.
The "tender twig" of our prophet is the Nazarene Jesus; the "goodly cedar" with its boughs and fruit is the millennial Jesus. But it is the same Jesus who in this way vindicates, illustrates, and glorifies all the thoughts, principles, and truth of God.
The chapter earlier condemned a broken covenant. The promise attached to it rests on something else entirely.
No legal conditions come into it at all. No breaking of the covenant — and we see that all through Israel's history — can touch Jehovah's promise in grace when He takes up her cause. It is a new beginning, as we see. It is the branch cropped off by Jehovah which now becomes a noble cedar, and all birds of every wing will live in the shade of its branches.
Commentators differ on how far this reaches. Some read it of the church's present life; others insist it belongs to a coming reign on earth:
This is in no way the mystery of the kingdom that we know now... It is not the calling out of souls from the world to a glorified Christ on high, but the land and all the earth blessed under the reign of Him.
God lowers the high and raises the low. That pattern shapes how He treats His own people now.
This is very much the common moral of all God's dealings with us in this scene of proud revolt. His discipline preserves us for future blessing and exaltation, but it does not make us great in this present world.
One writer names the purpose behind both halves of the reversal:
God brings man's pride down so that, humbled, he may be rightly lifted up. The tree that once looked so green to man is dried up, so that it may flourish again as God intends... God has set His seal on this: "I am the LORD; I have spoken, and I will do it."
- Ruin makes room. Zedekiah's broken oath ended the old order. It did not end the story. It cleared the ground for God.
- Trees are powers. The trees of the field are the great men and ruling houses of earth. They are the audience, and they will learn who does the planting.
- Low before high. The same Jesus is the tender twig and the goodly cedar — first the carpenter with nowhere to lay His head, then the reigning King.
- Grace, not terms. No legal condition hangs on the promise. The branch God Himself cropped off becomes the noble cedar.
- Spoken and done. God still deals this way with us. Discipline keeps us for later exaltation, not for greatness now — and what He has spoken, He will do.