The Folly of Trusting in Eagles: A Parable of Covenant Treachery Text: Ezekiel 17:1-10
Introduction: Political Riddles and Spiritual Realities
The Word of God comes to us in many forms. Sometimes it is a straightforward command, as plain as a stone tablet. Other times it is history, a bloody and glorious narrative of God's dealings with men. And sometimes, as we have it here in Ezekiel, it comes as a riddle, a parable. God is not being obtuse for the sake of being difficult. He is forcing us to think. A riddle requires you to stop, to ponder, to turn the thing over in your mind. It engages the intellect in a way that a simple declaration might not. It is a divine IQ test, and the central question is always this: do you see the world as God sees it, or are you still trying to make sense of it on your own terms?
Ezekiel is a prophet in exile, ministering to a people who have been carted off to Babylon because of generations of covenant unfaithfulness. But many of the exiles, and certainly the remaining leadership back in Jerusalem, had not learned their lesson. They were still playing political games. They were still looking for a geopolitical solution to what was fundamentally a spiritual problem. They had broken covenant with God, and as a result, God had placed them under the boot of Nebuchadnezzar, the king of Babylon. But instead of repenting and submitting to God's chastisement, they were looking for a different boot, a friendlier boot. They were looking to Egypt.
This parable of the two eagles and the vine is God's commentary on the foreign policy of Judah. It is a scathing indictment of their political maneuvering, their treaty-breaking, and their fundamental distrust of the God who had established them in the first place. They wanted to be a majestic vine, but they refused to be tended by the gardener who planted them. They were a nation that had made a solemn oath before God, and then decided that a political alliance with a pagan power was a better bet. This is not just ancient history. The temptation to trust in the eagles of this world, whether they be military powers, political ideologies, or financial securities, instead of the plain Word of God, is a perennial temptation for God's people. We want the strength of the eagle's wings, but we forget that it is God who determines their flight path.
This passage forces us to ask ourselves a hard question: When we are in trouble, when we are under pressure, do we look for a clever way out, or do we look to the God who put us there? Do we trust in the machinations of men or in the sovereignty of God? Judah's answer to that question was disastrous, and God lays it out here in this riddle for all to see. He is teaching us that political treachery is theological treachery. To break your word before God is to invite the east wind of His judgment.
The Text
Now the word of Yahweh came to me saying, “Son of man, propound a riddle and speak a parable to the house of Israel, and you will say, ‘Thus says Lord Yahweh, “A great eagle with great wings, long pinions, and a full plumage of many colors came to Lebanon and took away the top of the cedar. He plucked off the topmost of its young twigs and brought it to a land of merchants; he set it in a city of traders. He also took some of the seed of the land and planted it in a field fit for seed. He placed it beside abundant waters; he set it like a willow. Then it sprouted and became a low, spreading vine with its foliage turned toward him, but its roots remained under it. So it became a vine and yielded shoots and sent out branches.
“But there was another great eagle with great wings and much plumage; and behold, this vine bent its roots toward him and sent out its foliage toward him from the beds where it was planted, that he might water it. It was planted in a good field beside abundant waters, that it might yield branches and bear fruit and become a majestic vine.” ’ Say, ‘Thus says Lord Yahweh, “Will it succeed? Will he not pull up its roots and cut off its fruit, so that it dries up, so that all its sprouting leaves dry up? And neither by great strength nor by many people can it be raised from its roots again. And behold, though it is planted, will it succeed? Will it not completely dry up as soon as the east wind strikes it, dry up on the beds where it sprouted?” ’ ”
(Ezekiel 17:1-10 LSB)
The First Eagle and the Transplanted Twig (vv. 1-6)
God begins by instructing Ezekiel to pose a riddle to the house of Israel. This is a divine setup. He is about to lay out their sin in picture form, so that they must condemn themselves.
"A great eagle with great wings, long pinions, and a full plumage of many colors came to Lebanon and took away the top of the cedar. He plucked off the topmost of its young twigs and brought it to a land of merchants; he set it in a city of traders." (Ezekiel 17:3-4)
The key to the riddle is given later in the chapter, but the contemporary hearers would have known exactly what this meant. The first "great eagle" is Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon. The eagle is a common biblical symbol for a great, swift, and predatory empire (Deut. 28:49; Jer. 48:40). "Lebanon" represents the land of Judah, and the "cedar" is the royal house of David. Nebuchadnezzar came to Jerusalem and "plucked off the topmost of its young twigs." This refers to his removal of King Jehoiachin and the royal court, taking them into exile in Babylon, that great "city of traders." This was an act of judgment, but it was also, in a strange way, an act of mercy. God was pruning His people, not destroying them entirely.
Nebuchadnezzar then sets up a new arrangement.
"He also took some of the seed of the land and planted it in a field fit for seed. He placed it beside abundant waters; he set it like a willow. Then it sprouted and became a low, spreading vine with its foliage turned toward him, but its roots remained under it. So it became a vine and yielded shoots and sent out branches." (Ezekiel 17:5-6)
The "seed of the land" was Zedekiah, whom Nebuchadnezzar installed as a vassal king in Jerusalem. Notice the terms of this arrangement. It was a good deal, all things considered. He was planted in a good field, by abundant waters. He was set up for success. But there was a condition. He was to be a "low, spreading vine." He was not to be a towering cedar. His foliage was to be "turned toward" the eagle, Nebuchadnezzar. His roots were to remain "under" him. This was a covenant, a treaty. Zedekiah made a solemn oath of fealty to Nebuchadnezzar, an oath made in the name of Yahweh (2 Chron. 36:13). God Himself sanctioned this arrangement. Judah was to be a humble, fruitful, vassal state, living peacefully under the authority of Babylon. This was God's ordained will for them in this season of judgment. Their job was to submit, be fruitful, and learn humility.
The Second Eagle and the Treacherous Vine (vv. 7-8)
But Zedekiah and the nobles of Judah were proud. They chafed under this arrangement. They did not like being a "low" vine. So they began to look for another patron, another eagle.
"But there was another great eagle with great wings and much plumage; and behold, this vine bent its roots toward him and sent out its foliage toward him from the beds where it was planted, that he might water it." (Ezekiel 17:7)
This second eagle is Pharaoh, the king of Egypt. Egypt was the perennial rival of whatever Mesopotamian power was dominant at the time. For a small nation like Judah, caught in the middle, the temptation was always to play the great powers off against each other. Zedekiah, in an act of profound folly and treachery, decided to break his oath to Nebuchadnezzar and seek an alliance with Egypt. The vine, which was supposed to be oriented toward the first eagle, secretly "bent its roots toward" the second. It was looking for a new source of water, a new protector.
The irony is thick. Verse 8 points out that the vine was already in a good place. "It was planted in a good field beside abundant waters, that it might yield branches and bear fruit and become a majestic vine." It had everything it needed to flourish under the terms of the original agreement. This was not a desperate act of survival. This was a greedy and proud rebellion. Zedekiah wasn't content with being a fruitful vine; he wanted to be a "majestic" vine on his own terms. He despised the humility that God had ordained for him. He broke an oath made in God's name because he thought Egypt offered a better deal. This is the essence of worldliness: despising God's provision and God's commands in favor of what looks like a more promising human arrangement.
The Inevitable Judgment (vv. 9-10)
God then asks a series of rhetorical questions, the answers to which are devastatingly obvious.
"Say, ‘Thus says Lord Yahweh, “Will it succeed? Will he not pull up its roots and cut off its fruit, so that it dries up, so that all its sprouting leaves dry up? And neither by great strength nor by many people can it be raised from its roots again." (Ezekiel 17:9)
Will this treacherous plan work? The answer is a resounding no. The "he" here is Nebuchadnezzar, the first eagle. When he finds out about this rebellion, he will come and utterly destroy the vine. He will pull it up by the roots. He will cut off its fruit. The destruction will be so total that no amount of human effort, "neither by great strength nor by many people," can reverse it. This is a prophecy of the final destruction of Jerusalem in 586 B.C., when Nebuchadnezzar would return, furious at Zedekiah's betrayal, and level the city and the Temple.
God's judgment is not arbitrary. It is the natural and inevitable consequence of covenant-breaking. Zedekiah thought he was making a shrewd political move. God saw it as perjury. He had sworn by Yahweh, and then treated that oath as a disposable inconvenience. God takes His name very seriously. To swear an oath in His name and then break it is to call God a liar, to treat Him as a junior partner in your political schemes. God will not be mocked in this way.
The final verse drives the point home with another image of judgment.
"And behold, though it is planted, will it succeed? Will it not completely dry up as soon as the east wind strikes it, dry up on the beds where it sprouted?" (Ezekiel 17:10)
The "east wind" in Scripture is often a symbol of God's judgment, a hot, destructive wind from the desert that withers all life (Hosea 13:15). Babylon itself was to the east. This wind will come and blast the treacherous vine, right in the fertile beds where it had been planted. The very place of its privilege will become the place of its destruction. All its advantages, the good soil and abundant water, will mean nothing when the wind of God's wrath blows. Trusting in Egypt will not save them. Their cleverness will be their ruin.
Conclusion: The True Vine and the False
This parable is a stark warning against political pragmatism that ignores covenantal faithfulness. Judah's sin was not simply making a bad alliance. Their sin was breaking their word, an oath sworn before the living God. They despised the humble station God had given them and grasped for a glory that was not theirs to have. They turned from the master who planted them to a rival who could not save them.
And here is the lesson for us. We are all vines. The question is, to whom are our roots turned? Where do we look for our life, our security, our water? It is easy for the church to get caught up in the political games of our day, to think that our hope lies with this or that political eagle. It is easy to compromise, to shade the truth, to make alliances of convenience with the world in the hopes of gaining some advantage or avoiding some discomfort. But this is the way of Zedekiah. It is the way of the treacherous vine.
The gospel presents us with a radical alternative. Jesus Christ says, "I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser" (John 15:1). We are called to be branches in Him. Our roots are to go down deep into Him. Our foliage is to be turned toward Him. He is our source, our life, our protection. Unlike the eagles of this world, He is utterly faithful. He will never fail. But to be joined to Him means we must die to our own ambitions, our own clever schemes, our own desire to be a "majestic vine" on our own terms.
The judgment that fell on Jerusalem in 586 B.C. is a foreshadowing of the final judgment. The east wind of God's wrath will one day blow against all who have broken covenant with Him, all who have trusted in the eagles of this world. But for those who are grafted into the True Vine, there is no condemnation. We are secure in Him. Our task is not to make shady deals with Egypt, but to abide in Christ and bear much fruit, to the glory of God the Father. Let us therefore learn the lesson of this riddle. Let us not be a treacherous vine, bending our roots toward the world, but a faithful branch, drawing all our life from Christ alone.