to the end that none of all the trees by the waters exalt themselves in their stature, nor set their top amidst the thick boughs, and that none of them that drink water stand up in his height by himself; for they are all given over unto death in the lower parts of the earth, in the midst of the children of men, with them that go down to the pit.
Ezekiel 31 holds a fallen empire up in front of a proud one. God asks Pharaoh who he thinks he resembles, then points to Assyria — the cedar that once towered over every other tree. Verse 14 gives the reason for the felling: no well-watered tree should ever grow that tall again, because they all end in the same place.
God points Egypt to a power once greater than itself, now gone.
The prophet next gives us, in striking pictures, the ruin of Egypt. He applies to Pharaoh's kingdom the terrible warning of the Assyrian's downfall, the greatest of earth's monarchs in that day. It shows the principle Scripture uses so often with people: the Lord brings down the proud as He lifts up the lowly.
Every reader would rather believe the rule has one exception, and that he is it:
How gladly we would make ourselves the one exception, so that what applies to others should not apply to us!
The verse speaks of trees "by the waters" and trees "that drink water." Their size came from a supply they did not make. Assyria's greatness came the same way:
God controls and governs, not only in what belongs to Him but in the affairs of man. The cedar of Lebanon stood out among the trees for height, size, spread of shade and beauty. The Assyrian stood out in the same way among the nations. God withheld nothing that could adorn or enlarge Nineveh, or the people whose capital it was. He even gave it huge, far-reaching power and influence over the countries around it, so that all envied it.
God's gifts are not safe in human hands:
But God's fostering care had made him great, and he only repeated the old story. For what gift of God is there that man will not abuse?
The charge is not that the tree was tall. It is that the tree took the credit and wanted more.
But the Assyrian coveted for himself the glory of a king of kings. This lifting up of his heart in his height brought his doom upon him.
The felling was not a private judgment. It was public teaching, aimed at every other tree in the forest.
In the destruction of the Assyrian, God had shown that He would not allow a nation to exalt itself in this way. The self-will of man in Pharaoh did not alter His judgment.
This was not a one-off. It is a standing rule of how God runs the world:
This was no unexplainable disaster. It was a warning that the sure government of God preaches everywhere against pride. Were they not all following the same road? That could only press Sheol's claim on them — the claim of the unseen world, which gathers men in from every side. For the wheel surely turns, as Ezekiel has assured us over and over again. The one who is lifted up is exalted only for a moment. Then he must come down to the lower parts of the earth.
The verse ends by putting emperors "among the children of man," in the pit. Death erases the difference the tall tree spent its life building. But God does not stop at levelling.
Then He brings low the lofty and saves the humble. Death is the means by which God levels all the pride of man. Yet out of death itself He raises those who have accepted its sentence in a practical way. So we have the principle of resurrection. In it the power of God acts beyond the sentence — confirming the sentence, and yet showing His grace. And this is the way He has shown that grace in Christ, and shown it also to a people joined to Him in grace.
The same picture turns up elsewhere in the Bible. Each time it is a warning, not a compliment — and the warning reaches into Christian history too.
Other examples in the Bible confirm that a tree which becomes great is something negative. Daniel 4 pictures Nebuchadnezzar, the mighty king of Babylon, as a tree, but in a negative way. Ezekiel 31 is another example: it compares Assyria to a great tree. A mighty tree stands for great authority and political power. That power is easy to misuse, as the history of the Christian profession sadly shows.
- Gift — The cedar's height came from waters it did not make. God gave Assyria all that could enlarge it.
- Grab — The fall came when Assyria's heart rose with its height and coveted the glory of a king of kings.
- Ground — What goes up must come down. Whoever rises high is exalted for a moment, then goes to the lower parts of the earth.
- Gospel to the forest — God felled the cedar to preach against pride, so no other tree would try the same climb.
- Grace beyond — Death levels all human pride. But God raises out of death those who accept its sentence, and He has shown that grace in Christ.
Thus saith the Lord Jehovah In the day when he went down to Sheol, I caused a mourning I covered the deep for him, and I restrained the floods thereof, and the great waters were stayed; and I made Lebanon black for him, and all the trees of the field fainted for him.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
I made the nations to shake at the sound of his fall, when I cast him down to Sheol, with them that go down into the pit; and all the trees of Eden, the choice and best of Lebanon, all that drink water, were comforted in the lower parts of the earth.
This is a funeral heard across the world. God points Pharaoh to Assyria, the towering cedar He Himself cut down. Two questions press. Whose hand brought the tree down? And why do the dead kings below take comfort when it arrives?
Throughout this chapter, the trees are not scenery. A reference work on Bible terms explains both the image and the strange "comfort" this verse describes:
The fall of Pharaoh, pictured as a tall tree, is said to comfort the trees of Eden, which is called the 'garden of God' (Isaiah 51:3; Ezekiel 28:13; Ezekiel 31:9, 16, 18). God planted the trees of Eden, so in this last passage they stand for the various nations God placed in the earth, with Israel at the centre (Deuteronomy 32:8).
The verse does not say the cedar fell. It says God cast it down. Greatness is a loan, and God calls it in:
God controls and governs, not only in the things that belong to Him but in the things of man. As the cedar of Lebanon stood among the trees for height, size, spread of shade and beauty, so had the Assyrian stood among the nations. God had withheld nothing that could adorn or enlarge Nineveh, or the people whose capital it was. He even gave it enormous far-reaching power and influence over the countries around, so that all envied it. But the Assyrian wanted for himself the glory of a king of kings, and this lifting up of his heart in his height brought his doom on him.
The falling tree preaches. One commentator asks what the watching nations were meant to learn:
All the peoples of the earth had gone down from his shadow and had left him. This was no disaster without explanation. It was a warning against pride, one that God's sure government preaches everywhere, and all around felt it, if only for the moment. In fact, were they not all following in the same path? That could only press home Sheol's claim on them — the claim of the unseen world that gathers men on every side. For the wheel surely turns, as Ezekiel has told us again and again, and the one who is lifted up is exalted only for a moment, then must come down to the lower parts of the earth.
This chapter speaks to Egypt, not to Assyria. Assyria is only the exhibit:
The prophet next shows us the ruin of Egypt in striking pictures. The downfall of the Assyrian, the greatest of earth's kings in that day, is an awful warning, and it applies to Pharaoh's kingdom. It shows the principle Scripture uses so often with people: the Lord brings down the proud as He lifts up the lowly.
The verse names two places — Sheol and the pit. One writer describes the same scene in the next chapter:
We look here into Sheol and see the nations gathered there, stripped of their glory, in the deepest humiliation and shame. Their bodies are in the pit, the grave, and their souls in Sheol, the unseen regions. God's patience with them ran out. The measure of their wickedness became full. Then judgments swept them off the earth, and they passed away and went down into Sheol.
He also notes a reversal. Here the dead nations take comfort when Pharaoh comes down; in chapter 32 Pharaoh takes comfort when he finds them there.
What kind of comfort is this? Company in ruin, nothing more:
The once mighty ruler and his crowds are now weak and pitiful in the lower parts of the earth, yes, in Sheol like all who had fallen before him. He has no better comfort than this: that he and his people share the doom that princes and peoples cannot escape.
One commentator looks past the grave to what lasts:
True, if we follow this out, we shall find that in God's thought there is a resurrection also, and that whatever is permanent in blessing lies in this for us. But man's view in general does not reach that far, and where the lesson is not accepted, the blessing itself is not reached.
- Planted. The cedar was no self-made power. God gave Assyria everything that made it envied. The trees of Eden stand for nations God Himself placed on the earth.
- Lifted. Height brought the axe, not weakness. The Assyrian's heart was lifted up in his own greatness, and that brought his doom.
- Felled. The verse gives God as the actor: He made the nations quake, He cast it down. History's loudest collapses are His sermons against pride.
- Heard. All around felt the crash as a warning, and Egypt hears the same warning. The wheel turns, and the exalted come down.
- Comforted. The comfort in Sheol is the poorest kind: not rescue, only company in a shared doom. Lasting blessing lies in resurrection, and those who refuse the lesson never reach it.
They also went down into Sheol with him unto them that were slain with the sword, and [that were] his arm, that dwelt under his shadow in the midst of the nations.
Ezekiel 31 is a message for Pharaoh, and it works by showing him somebody else's grave: Assyria, once the tallest tree in the garden, now fallen. Verse 17 follows the nations that lived in that tree's shade, and asks whether shared power means shared ruin.
Egypt is not addressed directly at first. God asks Pharaoh who he resembles, then answers by describing a rival empire, so that the comparison does the work.
How gladly would we make ourselves the one exception, so that what applies to others should not apply to us! God therefore points them to Assyria, a power as strong as Egypt itself.
The picture is not decoration. Across Scripture the spreading tree stands for something specific, and it is rarely a compliment.
A mighty tree symbolizes great authority and political power, which can easily be misused.
Assyria, like Egypt, owed everything to its rivers. That dependence should have produced humility; it produced the opposite.
It was self-exaltation and not the sense of dependence that grew out of it. So in the end abasement had to follow, for God's law is: whoever exalts himself will be humbled.
Verse 17 names those who were the tree's "arm" and lived in its shadow. Their story runs in two stages: first they leave the falling tree, then they follow it down.
All the peoples of the earth had gone down from his shadow and had left him. This was no unexplainable disaster. It was a warning which the sure government of God preaches everywhere against pride... In fact, were they not all following in the same path? That could only underline Sheol's claim upon them — the claim of the unseen world which gathers men on every side. For the wheel turns, as Ezekiel has told us again and again. The man lifted high stays up only a moment, then must come down to the lower parts of the earth.
"Sheol" is the Old Testament name for the unseen world. Where the name comes from is disputed:
after_note: none
The word sheol seems to come from shaal, "to ask." Most take its meaning from the way death never stops "demanding" its victims. Others have suggested something that seems just as likely: that it comes instead from the "questioning" about the dead, as in Job 14:10: "man breathes his last, and where is he?"
Another commentator describes what Ezekiel shows of that place:
We look here into sheol and see the nations gathered there, stripped of their glory, in deepest humiliation and shame. Their bodies are in the pit, the grave, and their souls in sheol, the unseen regions. God's patience with them ran out. The measure of their wickedness became full. Then judgments swept them off the earth, and they passed away and went down into sheol.
Egypt's whole hope lay in being the exception — better resourced, better governed, longer-lasting. The chapter closes that door.
To the lower parts of the earth Egypt must go with the rest. The power and the policy of nature can give no exemption. In God alone is continuance.
Yet the downward road is not the last word, even here.
It is true that if we follow this out, we find that in God's thought there is a resurrection too, and that whatever is permanent in blessing lies in that for us. But most people do not see this far, and where people will not accept the lesson, they never reach the blessing.
- Height — The tree stands for authority and political power, and its size is a warning, not a compliment.
- Lifting — Assyria owed everything to its two rivers. It answered that gift with self-exaltation, and God's law is that whoever exalts himself will be humbled.
- Leaving — Those who lived in its shade first left the falling tree. Then they followed it down the same road.
- Lowering — Sheol is the unseen world that keeps demanding its victims. There the nations lie, stripped of their glory.
- Living — No power or policy buys an exemption. Continuance is in God alone, and permanent blessing lies in resurrection.
To whom art thou thus like in glory and in greatness among the trees of Eden? Yet shalt thou be brought down with the trees of Eden, unto the lower parts of the earth; thou shalt lie in the midst of the uncircumcised, with them that are slain by the sword. This is Pharaoh and all his multitude, saith the Lord Jehovah.
The parable of the towering cedar has been describing Assyria. Now God turns back to Pharaoh, asks him who his equal is among the trees of Eden, and tells him where he will lie.
The chapter opened with God asking Pharaoh who he was like in his greatness. It closes by asking again. Egypt cannot claim to be a special case.
How we would love to make ourselves the one exception, so that what applies to others would not apply to us! God therefore points them to Assyria, a power as strong as Egypt itself.
Egypt had watched Assyria fall and learned nothing from it.
Had Egypt learned the moral lesson? On the contrary, did it not hurry to follow in the same steps? And if Pharaoh copied the Assyrian's glory and claimed as much or more, should he not rightly face the same destruction? … Egypt must go down to the lower parts of the earth with the rest. Natural power and political skill give no exemption.
The "trees of Eden" here are nations, not plants. Ezekiel is using a picture that appears again and again in Scripture.
The tree is the constant symbol of the great ones and powers of the world. Take Ezekiel 31, the Assyrian, or Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel 4.
And the height of that tree was God's doing, not the nation's.
The cedar of Lebanon stood out among the trees for height, size, shade, and beauty. The Assyrian had stood out like that among the nations. God withheld nothing that could adorn or enlarge Nineveh and the nation whose capital it was. He even gave it enormous far-reaching power and influence over the countries around it, so that all envied it.
Both Assyria and Egypt drew their strength from rivers they did not make. The failure was not in the gift but in the response to it.
Assyria, like Egypt, was an oasis in the desert belt that runs across nearly the whole breadth of Africa and Asia. For Assyria the two rivers made that oasis, and it owed everything to them, as Egypt did to the Nile. Anyone could see it was dependent at its very core. Yet what grew out of that was self-exaltation, not a sense of dependence. In the end humiliation had to follow, for God's law is: everyone who exalts himself will be humbled.
Being brought down is not an accident of history. Sheol, the unseen world of the dead, collects what it is owed — and it stands over every nation that watches another fall.
Were they not all following the same path, which could only underline Sheol's claim upon them? — the claim of the unseen world that gathers men from every side. For the wheel turns, as Ezekiel has told us over and over. The man lifted up is exalted only for a moment. Then he must come down to the lower parts of the earth. Follow this out, and you find that in God's thought there is a resurrection too, and that whatever lasts in blessing lies there for us. But most people never look that far, and where the lesson is not accepted, the blessing itself is not reached. So God challenges Pharaoh here. Sheol had its rights over him also, rights which in God's judgment were already granted.
Why would lying among "the uncircumcised" be a disgrace? The answer lies in what circumcision meant.
It signified the separation of a people from the world to God… Circumcision became another word for Israel. People called them 'the circumcised,' and the other nations 'the uncircumcised.'
So lying "among the uncircumcised" means lying with those God has disowned.
The great powers had already fallen like the uncircumcised — people God did not own, and so did not uphold. All must give place to this new power in the hands of Nebuchadnezzar. What marked Egypt out was the pride of nature. It followed its own will and acknowledged no God.
The word "uncircumcised" can land on the very people who carry the mark.
Only in God is there permanence. He will show it in His people on earth, as in heaven, once they have bowed to learn both themselves and Him. Until then, Israel's circumcision counts as uncircumcision, and they are even more guilty than the nations they despise.
- Gift — God gave the cedar its height. He withheld nothing that could adorn or enlarge Assyria among the nations.
- Grasp — a land that owed everything to its rivers produced self-exaltation, not dependence. God's law answers it: everyone who exalts himself will be humbled.
- Grave — the one lifted up is exalted for a moment, then must come down. God had already granted Sheol's claim on Pharaoh.
- Group — he lies "among the uncircumcised": among people God did not own, and so did not uphold.
- Genuine — no one gets an exception, not even the marked people. Where pride rules, Israel's circumcision counts as uncircumcision, and its guilt is greater than that of the nations it looks down on.