I had made him fair by the multitude of his branches; and all the trees of Eden, that were in the garden of God, envied him.
In this verse God speaks in the first person about the great cedar. The tree did not make itself beautiful; He did. The verse also names the onlookers — the trees of Eden in the garden of God — and tells us what they felt: envy.
The chapter speaks to Egypt, and God holds up Assyria as the mirror. One writer notes how we assume the lesson is meant for someone else:
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.
So who are these other trees, and what is this garden?
Scripture pictures the fall of Pharaoh as the fall of a tall tree, and this comforts the trees of Eden, which is called the "garden of God." God planted the trees of Eden. In this passage they stand for the various nations God placed in the earth, with Israel at the centre.
The neighbouring powers were like Eden's trees too. Yet all of them lived in Assyria's shade:
In Assyria and the neighbouring powers, the trees of the Garden of God might seem to have appeared again in another form. But all alike lived under the shadow of the one supreme power, which was the envy of them all.
The verses around it fill in the picture. Birds nest in the boughs, animals rest under the branches, and nations sit in the shade. Scripture itself supplies the key to what those creatures stand for:
It is evident here that Assyria is a vast power, for great nations dwelt under his shadow. The picture is a tree. The birds that nested in his branches, and the animals that looked for protection and shelter under them, are, according to the word of God, the surrounding nations. All we need to notice now is that the tree pictures a towering earthly power.
The same picture returns in a dream of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon. Daniel had to interpret it:
The prophets often use a tree as a figure for men in their earthly greatness. This close match helps us understand the symbolism of Nebuchadnezzar's dreams. It shows how fitting the picture is for being raised high in the government of the earth, with the far-reaching, wide-spreading, sheltering protection such power gives to people of every rank and condition.
God takes the credit for everything Assyria had — its beauty, its size, and its power over its neighbours:
The Assyrian stood among the nations as the cedar of Lebanon stands among the trees — in height, size, and spread of shade, as well as beauty. God grudged nothing that could adorn Nineveh and make it great, or the people whose capital it was. Yes, He let it exercise enormous, far-reaching power and influence over the countries around it, so that all envied it.
The verse credits God with the greatness. The question that follows is what man does with a gift like that:
But God's fostering care made it great, and it only repeated the old story. Is there any gift of God that man will not abuse?
The very stature God gave became the thing the Assyrian claimed for himself:
But the Assyrian wanted the glory of a king of kings for himself. His heart was lifted up because of his height, and that brought his doom on him.
The ruin was not a random misfortune. It carried a message for every watching nation:
All the peoples of the earth had gone down from his shadow and left him. This was no disaster without explanation. It was a warning against pride, one that God's sure government preaches everywhere.
- Gift. Every branch of that beauty came from God's hand; He "grudged nothing" that could make Assyria great.
- Garden. The trees of Eden are nations God Himself planted, with Israel at the centre. So the envy here is one nation eyeing another's God-given place.
- Shade. The tree pictures a towering earthly power, with nations sheltering under it. Daniel read the same image in Nebuchadnezzar's dream.
- Grasp. Assyria claimed the height God gave as its own glory. That lifting up of the heart brought its doom.
- Warning. God shows Egypt the fall of Assyria, because we all want to be the one exception. The fallen cedar warns everyone against pride.
Therefore thus saith the Lord Jehovah Because thou hast lifted up thyself in stature, ... and he hath set his top amidst the thick boughs, and his heart is lifted up in his height,
God has Ezekiel ask Pharaoh who he resembles in his greatness, and the answer is a portrait of Assyria as a towering cedar. Verse 10 is the turn: the description becomes a verdict, and it names the exact fault that brought the great tree down.
God answers Egypt by pointing to a power just as strong. One writer notes how we like to think the rule applies to everyone but us:
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 cedar is not a random image. In Scripture it always carries the same sense:
As a symbol in Scripture, the cedar always stands for power or exaltation, if not pride… When judgment comes on the great of the earth, the prophet Isaiah says it is the day of the LORD upon the cedars of Lebanon (Isaiah 2:13). Such passages mark the cedar as the symbol of dignity and power.
The verse speaks of height. The chapter first says who gave that height:
As the cedar of Lebanon stands among the trees for height, size, spread of shade and beauty, so the Assyrian stood among the nations. God had held back nothing that could adorn or make great 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.
What Assyria did with the gift was nothing new:
But after being made great like this by God's fostering care, it only repeated the old story. Is there any gift of God that man will not abuse?
The verse does not condemn size. It condemns what the size did to the heart.
But the Assyrian wanted for himself the glory of a king of kings. This lifting up of his heart in his height brought his doom on him.
Dependence can be plain to see and still not be felt:
Assyria owed everything to its two rivers, as Egypt did to the Nile. It was completely dependent, as anyone could see. Yet what grew out of that was self-exaltation, not a sense of dependence. So in the end it had to be brought low, for God's law is: everyone who exalts himself will be humbled.
The word therefore points to what God does next. He has a use for a proud power, and a sentence for it as well:
God uses the pride and wickedness of the wicked to discipline His people. Afterwards He destroys the instrument. The Assyrian was God's rod to strike Israel, but he glorifies himself against God — and God breaks the rod.
The fallen cedar had a message in it, and the message was not for Egypt alone:
All the peoples of the earth had gone down from his shadow and left him. This was no unexplainable disaster. It was a warning against pride, one that the sure government of God preaches everywhere.
Assyria is not the only tree of this kind in the Bible:
Other examples in the Bible confirm that a tree becoming great is something negative. In Daniel 4, Nebuchadnezzar, the mighty king of Babylon, is pictured as a tree, but in a negative way. Another example is Ezekiel 31, where Assyria is compared to a great tree. A mighty tree stands for great authority and political power, and such power is easy to misuse.
- Given. Assyria's size, its shade and the nations that sheltered in it all came from God. He held back nothing that could make Nineveh great.
- Grasped. The height was not the sin; the heart raised by the height was. Assyria wanted for itself the glory of a king of kings.
- Groundless. Assyria did not make its own rivers, so it had no ground for self-exaltation. A dependence that is never felt ends in being brought low.
- Given up. Because the heart rose, doom followed. God uses a proud power as His rod, then breaks the rod.
- Gone public. Assyria's ruin was no mystery. God's government preaches the same warning against pride to every nation — and to every reader since.
I have given him into the hand of the mighty one of the nations; he shall surely deal with him I have driven him out for his wickedness.
Ezekiel 31 points Pharaoh to an empire that had already fallen — Assyria, a cedar so tall that every nation sheltered under it. Verse 11 is the hinge: God Himself hands the tree over, and the reason He gives is its own wickedness.
The cedar's height was never its own achievement. One writer traces the fall back to what God first gave, and to what man does with any gift:
But, made great in this way by the fostering care of God, it was only to repeat the old story; for what gift of God is there that man will not abuse? And what hope is there for a person who turns God's mercies to evil instead of good?
The same writer shows how little ground Assyria had for pride:
Assyria, like Egypt, was an oasis in the desert. Its two rivers made it what it was, and it owed everything to them, as Egypt owed everything to the Nile. So it was completely dependent, as anyone could see. Yet what grew out of that was self-exaltation, not a sense of dependence. So in the end humiliation had to follow, for God's law is: Whoever exalts himself will be humbled.
Verse 11 is God's answer to something earlier in the chapter. William Kelly names the ambition that provoked it:
But the Assyrian coveted for himself the glory of a king of kings; and this lifting up of his heart in his height brought his doom upon him.
Assyria's fall was not an accident of power politics. J. N. Darby sets it beside Pharaoh's own case:
The mighty empire of Assyria had already fallen. Pharaoh, whatever his claims and his ambition, was no better. We see this judgment of the Assyrian in Ezekiel 31:10-11. He was the chief of all the nations in power. There the "mighty one of the nations" stands out clearly, falling before this decree of God.
"He shall surely deal with it" carries a grim thoroughness. The work handed to Babylon would be finished:
God had given him too into the hand of Babylon, one who would make thorough work with him — for when God has work to do, He will see that it is done.
God's use of a nation is no guarantee of its safety. J. T. Mawson draws the rule out of the Old Testament's record:
In God's governmental ways with nations He may use one as His rod with which to punish another; this we constantly see in Old Testament Scriptures. But woe to the nation so used if she becomes lifted up with pride because of it. As surely as God rules with justice, so surely will she be humbled in her turn, and justly.
The whole chapter speaks to Egypt, not to Assyria. Kelly explains why God holds up a dead empire in front of a living one:
The Assyrian was the greatest of earth's kings in that day. His downfall is a terrible warning, and that warning now falls on Pharaoh's kingdom. It shows the principle Scripture uses so often with people: the Lord brings the proud low as He lifts up the lowly.
Kelly measures Egypt's ambition against Assyria's example:
Assyria had gone beyond every power known until then in magnificence, but as a kingdom, not as an imperial system. Egypt might want to take an imperial place, but it must fall the same way. Political wisdom might be proud, but it could not secure that goal of ambition any more than force of numbers or size of territory. God controls and governs, not only in what pertains to His things but in those of man.
The towering tree is not a one-off image. Scripture uses it in a fixed way:
The tree is the constant symbol of the great ones and powers of the world — as, for instance, Ezekiel 31, the Assyrian, and Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel 4.
- Given. The cedar's height came from God's care. Assyria lived off its two rivers as Egypt lived off the Nile. It owned nothing God had not given it.
- Grasped. Dependence should have followed; self-exaltation did. The Assyrian wanted the glory of a king of kings, and that lifting up of heart brought his doom.
- Given up. God hands the tree to "a mighty one of the nations." That is a decree, not an accident of history, and the one given the work will do it thoroughly.
- Government. God may use one nation as a rod against another. But when the rod grows proud, He humbles it in its turn, and justly.
- Guidance. God holds the dead empire up in front of the living one. He brings the proud low and lifts up the lowly. No political skill, numbers or territory buys an exception.
And strangers, the terrible of the nations, have cut him off and have left him; upon the mountains and in all the valleys his branches are fallen, and his boughs are broken in all the watercourses of the land; and all the peoples of the earth are gone down from his shadow, and have left him.
God tells Ezekiel to speak to Pharaoh, but the prophet describes Assyria instead of Egypt: a cedar so tall that every nation sheltered under it. Verse 12 is the moment the axe falls — so who swung it, and why did everyone in that shade walk away?
The image is not unique to this chapter.
The tree is the constant symbol of the great ones and powers of the world, as for instance, Ezekiel 31 — the Assyrian — and Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel 4.
So the felling in verse 12 is the collapse of an empire. Kelly traces the cedar's height back to God Himself:
God controls and governs, not only in what concerns His own things but in the things of man. As the cedar of Lebanon stands among the trees for height, size, spread of shade, and beauty, so the Assyrian had stood among the nations. God 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 round about, so that all envied it.
The chapter gives the reason before the ruin. Assyria received its greatness, then claimed it as its own.
But the Assyrian coveted for himself the glory of a king of kings, and this lifting up of his heart in his height brought his doom upon him.
Another writer widens it from Assyria to man in general:
But, made great in this way by the fostering care of God, it was only to repeat the old story. For what gift of God is there that man will not abuse?
The verse names no nation. It only calls the woodcutters foreigners, the most ruthless of nations. The verse before has already named the hand behind them.
Ezekiel 31:10-11 shows this judgment of the Assyrian, the chief of all the nations in power. There the "mighty one of the nations" stands out clearly, falling before this decree of God. Pharaoh would find comfort in seeing all the great ones of the earth overthrown like himself.
Ezekiel uses the same description one chapter earlier. Kelly's comment there answers an obvious question: does God's use of cruel men mean He shares their cruelty?
God had not the smallest sympathy with the most ruthless of nations and their drawn swords. He had no sympathy with the wicked into whose hand the country was sold, nor with the foreigners who laid it waste. But the hour to judge its proud wickedness was at hand, and the worst were the fitting executioners to carry out the dreadful task.
The second half of the verse turns from the tree to the crowd that had used it.
Instead of seeking his protection, the birds and the beasts would live among his ruins. All the peoples of the earth had gone down from his shadow and had left him. This was no unexplainable disaster, but a warning that the sure government of God preaches everywhere against pride. For the wheel surely turns, as Ezekiel has assured us over and over again. The one who is lifted up is exalted for a moment only; then he must come down to the lower parts of the earth.
Assyria is shown to Pharaoh as a mirror, because the same rule governs both.
In the destruction of the Assyrian, God had shown that He would not allow a nation to exalt itself in this manner. The will of man in Pharaoh did not alter His judgment.
The rule does not stop with these two empires. Even a nation God uses as His rod stands under it:
In God's governmental ways with nations He may use one as His rod to punish another; we constantly see this in Old Testament Scriptures. But it will go badly for the nation so used if she becomes lifted up with pride about it. As surely as God rules with justice, so surely shall she be justly humbled in her turn.
- Gift. God gave everything that made the cedar tall: its reach, its shade, the envy of the nations.
- Grab. Assyria turned the gift into a claim. It wanted the glory of a king of kings, and that lifted-up heart brought its doom.
- Axe. God used the most ruthless of nations as His executioners, but He had no sympathy with their cruelty. The worst men suited the dreadful task.
- Abandonment. When the tree came down, everyone who had sheltered under it walked away. The birds came back only to live among the ruins.
- Everyone. God holds Assyria up to Pharaoh, because the same government rules him — and any nation, even one God uses as His rod.
Upon his fallen [trunk] do all the fowl of the heavens dwell, and all the beasts of the field are upon his branches
Ezekiel 31 shows Pharaoh another nation's grave: Assyria, once the tallest tree in the world. Now it is a fallen trunk, and the birds and animals that once sheltered in its shade settle on the wreckage.
Nobody wants to believe that the rule which catches others will catch them too:
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.
Egypt's ambition ran up against a decision God had already made:
In the self-will of man, Egypt tried to take the place that God had actually given to Nebuchadnezzar. All must submit. The mighty empire of Asshur had already fallen. Whatever his claims and his ambition, Pharaoh was no better… By destroying the Assyrian, God had shown that He would not let a nation exalt itself like this.
Assyria did not produce its own greatness; God gave it all:
Among the nations the Assyrian was what the cedar of Lebanon is among the trees: tall, huge, wide in its shade, and beautiful. God held back nothing that could beautify or enlarge Nineveh and the people whose capital it was. He even gave it enormous, far-reaching power and influence over the countries around, so that all of them envied it.
Assyria's greatness rested on rivers it never made:
Assyria, like Egypt, was an oasis in the desert… Two rivers made that oasis, and Assyria owed everything to them, as Egypt did to the Nile. Anyone could see that it depended on something outside itself. Yet what grew out of that was self-exaltation, not any sense of dependence. So in the end humiliation had to follow, for God's law is: everyone who exalts himself will be humbled.
Verse 13 runs the earlier picture backwards. The same creatures are there; the shelter is not:
His humiliation was now as great as his greatness had been. God handed him over to Babylon too, and Babylon would do a thorough job on him. When God has work to do, He sees that it gets done. As a result, instead of seeking his protection, the birds and the beasts would dwell among his ruins. All the peoples of the earth had come down out of his shadow and left him. This was no disaster without explanation. It was a warning that God's sure government preaches everywhere against pride.
What triggered the fall was not weakness but ambition:
But the Assyrian wanted the glory of a king of kings for himself. He lifted up his heart in his height, and that brought his doom on him… The fall from such towering grandeur to complete disgrace and helplessness was tremendous — a lesson for everyone who might aim beyond their measure.
In the Bible, a tree that grows great is not a compliment:
A tree that becomes great is something negative, and other examples in the Bible confirm this. In Daniel 4, for example, a tree pictures Nebuchadnezzar, the mighty king of Babylon — and it pictures him 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, and people can easily misuse it. That has sadly happened among those who profess to follow Christ.
Not every tree ends as a fallen trunk. Israel's future is different:
Powers and empires in the world have been like trees. They gave shelter to the birds, and their branches covered the beasts of the field. But the trees died. It will be different when Israel is first among the nations. Their glory will not fade, and their leaf will not wither. They are like cedars beside the waters.
- Given — Assyria's height, shade and reach were all God's gift; He held nothing back that could enlarge it.
- Grasped — Assyria lived on rivers it never made. That should have humbled it. Instead it wanted the glory of a king of kings, and the lifted heart brought the fall.
- Grounded — Birds and beasts now settle on the fallen trunk. The shelter is a ruin, and the nations that sheltered there have walked away.
- Generalised — This is not a one-off disaster. It is God's standing warning against pride, held up so Pharaoh could read his own future in Assyria's grave.
- Guaranteed — In the Bible a towering tree means worldly power, easy to misuse. Only Israel, first among the nations, will keep its glory and never wither.
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.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.