Commentary - Ezekiel 28:1-10

Bird's-eye view

In this section of Ezekiel's prophecy, the word of the Lord comes against the ruler of Tyre. This is not just a geopolitical oracle against a neighboring power; it is a profound theological indictment against the very heart of human pride. The king of Tyre, a man named Ethbaal III, had allowed his city's immense commercial success and strategic security to inflate his heart to the point of blasphemy. He saw himself not as a steward of God's blessings, but as the divine source of them. He claimed godhood. God, through His prophet Ezekiel, systematically dismantles this claim. He acknowledges the king's worldly wisdom and the wealth it produced, but only to show how these gifts were perverted by pride. The central theme is the collision between creaturely arrogance and divine reality. The king says, "I am a god," but Yahweh counters, "Yet you are a man and not God." The prophecy culminates in a sentence of utter humiliation: this self-proclaimed god will die a common, defiled death at the hands of foreign invaders, proving his mortality in the most brutal fashion. This oracle serves as a timeless case study in the anatomy of pride, the seductive danger of wealth, and the absolute sovereignty of God, who alone is God.

This passage is a direct confrontation with the primordial sin of Eden, the desire to "be like God." The king of Tyre is a type of fallen Adam, a man gifted with wisdom and placed in a prosperous setting, who then leverages those gifts in a bid for autonomous divinity. God's judgment upon him is therefore not arbitrary but a righteous and fitting response to this ultimate rebellion. The prophecy demonstrates that no amount of human wisdom, wealth, or power can bridge the infinite gap between the Creator and the creature. God will not be mocked, and those who exalt themselves will be brought low.

Outline

Context In Ezekiel

This prophecy against Tyre is part of a larger block of oracles against the foreign nations that surrounded Israel (Ezekiel 25-32). These oracles are strategically placed between the prophecies announcing the fall of Jerusalem (chapters 1-24) and the prophecies of Israel's future restoration (chapters 33-48). This placement is theologically significant. Before God restores His own people, He must demonstrate His absolute sovereignty over all nations. The nations, particularly those who gloated over Judah's demise or who exemplified a godless pride, must face the judgment of Yahweh. Tyre was the epitome of worldly success, a wealthy maritime empire that felt impregnable on its island fortress. The prophecy against its ruler in chapter 28 is the centerpiece of the Tyre section (26:1-28:19). It moves from the destruction of the city (chapter 26) and a lament over its commercial ruin (chapter 27) to a direct, personal confrontation with the spiritual rot at the heart of the kingdom: the deified pride of its king. This sets the stage for God to show that He alone is the true King, not only of Israel, but of all the earth.

Key Issues

The Man Who Would Be God

At the heart of every sin is the desire for autonomy from God. It is the creature telling the Creator that he knows better. This is the sin of Adam and Eve in the garden, tempted with the promise, "you will be like God" (Gen. 3:5). In the ruler of Tyre, we see this primordial sin in its most fully developed and articulate form. He does not just want to be like God; he flatly declares, "I am a god." This is the logical end point of all pride. Pride is not simply having a high view of oneself; it is the idolatry of the self. It places the self on the throne that belongs to God alone.

The king of Tyre had every worldly reason for his arrogance. His city was a marvel of engineering and commerce. It sat on an island, a fortress in the "heart of the seas," seemingly untouchable. His wisdom in trade had brought him unimaginable wealth. But he made the classic mistake of the proud man: he confused the gift with the giver. He looked at the fruit of his wisdom and wealth and concluded that he must be the ultimate source of it. He did not see himself as a recipient of common grace, but as a self-contained deity. God's charge against him is a covenant lawsuit, not just against a pagan king, but against the spirit of antichrist that lurks in every human heart, the spirit that refuses to bow and say, "You are God, and I am not."

Verse by Verse Commentary

1-2a The word of Yahweh came again to me, saying, “Son of man, say to the ruler of Tyre, ‘Thus says Lord Yahweh...

The prophecy begins with the standard, authoritative formula. Ezekiel is a "son of man," a mere human being, reminded of his creaturely status as he is commissioned to speak. And he is to speak to the "ruler of Tyre," another mere man, though one who has forgotten his place. The message is not Ezekiel's own; it is from "Lord Yahweh," the sovereign, covenant-keeping God. This sets up the fundamental conflict of the passage: the word of the one true God against the proud word of a man who thinks he is a god.

2b ...Because your heart is lofty And you have said, ‘I am a god; I sit enthroned in the seat of gods In the heart of the seas’...

Here is the charge, the heart of the indictment. The problem begins in the king's heart, which is "lofty" or proud. Pride is a condition of the heart before it is an action of the hands or a word of the mouth. But what the heart conceives, the mouth eventually confesses. His pride has given birth to blasphemy. He makes a threefold claim: "I am a god," "I sit on a divine throne," and my location, the island of Tyre, is a divine abode. He has taken his geographical security ("in the heart of the seas") and mythologized it into a theological reality. He sees himself as the center of the cosmos, secure and sovereign, just like God.

2c ...Yet you are a man and not God, Although you make your heart like the heart of God,

Yahweh's rebuttal is simple, direct, and devastating. "Yet you are a man (adam) and not God (El)." This is the fundamental, unbridgeable distinction of all reality: the Creator/creature distinction. No matter how much you pretend, no matter how much you "make your heart like the heart of God," you cannot change what you are. You are a man, made from the dust. Your pretense of divinity is just that, a pretense. It is a lie you tell yourself, but it does not alter the facts. This is God puncturing the balloon of human pride with the sharp pin of reality.

3 Behold, you are wiser than Daniel; There is no secret that is a match for you.

God now turns to a form of divine sarcasm. He seems to praise the king's wisdom, but it is an indictment in disguise. Daniel was already legendary for his God-given wisdom, particularly in uncovering secrets (Dan. 2:47). God says to the king, "You think you're even wiser than Daniel, don't you? You believe no secret, no complex trade deal, no political intrigue is beyond your grasp." God is holding up a mirror to the king's own self-perception. He is not denying that the king has worldly wisdom; he is exposing the fact that this wisdom has become the foundation for his idolatrous pride.

4-5 By your wisdom and understanding You have acquired wealth for yourself And have acquired gold and silver for your treasuries. By your great wisdom, by your trade You have increased your wealth, And your heart is lofty because of your wealth,

God traces the progression of the king's sin. Wisdom led to wealth, and wealth led to pride. Notice the repetition: "your wisdom," "your understanding," "your trade," "your wealth." It is all self-referential. The king's ledger book has no entry for "grace" or "providence." He believes he is a self-made man, and he worships his creator. The tragedy is that his wisdom and wealth were not evil in themselves. They were gifts, evidences of God's common grace. But instead of leading him to gratitude, they led him to arrogance. His heart became "lofty because of your wealth." Money is a test. It reveals what is already in the heart, and in his case, it revealed a bottomless pit of pride.

6 Therefore thus says Lord Yahweh, ‘Because you have made your heart Like the heart of God,

The "therefore" marks the transition from indictment to sentencing. The basis for the judgment is now formally stated, summarizing the core sin from verse 2. The crime is attempting to usurp the divine prerogative. It is a sin of the heart, a desire to be God, which is the root of all other sins.

7 Therefore, behold, I will bring strangers upon you, The most ruthless of the nations. And they will draw their swords Against the beauty of your wisdom And defile your splendor.

The second "therefore" introduces the specific punishment. God says, "I will bring strangers upon you." The king's downfall will not be an accident of history; it will be a direct act of God's sovereign judgment. The instruments of this judgment will be the Babylonians, described here as "the most ruthless of the nations." The punishment is tailored perfectly to the crime. The king was proud of the "beauty of his wisdom," so their swords will be drawn against that very thing. He gloried in his "splendor," so they will "defile" or profane it. The things he worshiped will be the very things that are desecrated and destroyed.

8 They will bring you down to the pit, And you will die the death of those who are slain In the heart of the seas.

The self-proclaimed god who sat enthroned in the heart of the seas will be brought down to the "pit," a term for the grave or Sheol. The one who claimed divine immortality will die a violent death, the death of a common soldier, right in the place where he felt most secure. The language is dripping with irony. His divine throne in the heart of the seas will become his watery grave.

9 Will you still say, “I am a god,” In the presence of the one who kills you, Though you are a man and not God, In the hands of those who slay you?

God poses a final, mocking question. "When the Babylonian soldier has his sword at your throat, will your blasphemous claim still be on your lips?" The moment of death is the ultimate reality check. It is the final, undeniable proof of one's creatureliness. In that moment, the lie of his divinity will be exposed for all to see. He will be shown to be nothing more than a man, helpless in the hands of his executioners, who are themselves mere instruments in the hand of God.

10 You will die the death of the uncircumcised By the hand of strangers, For I have spoken!’ declares Lord Yahweh!”

The final humiliation is to "die the death of the uncircumcised." For a Semitic people, even a pagan one like the Phoenicians who practiced circumcision, to die and be buried with the uncircumcised was a profound disgrace. It meant a dishonorable death, to be cut off from one's people and one's gods. This self-proclaimed god will die a defiled, pagan, shameful death. The prophecy ends with the ultimate seal of certainty: "For I have spoken!" declares Lord Yahweh. This is not a possibility; it is a divine decree. The sentence has been passed, and it will be executed.

Application

The story of the king of Tyre is our story. We may not verbalize the claim "I am a god," but the temptation to live as though we are is the default setting of our fallen hearts. Every time we trust in our own wisdom, every time our security rests in our bank account, every time we take credit for our successes without a thought for the God who gave us the ability to get them, we are making our hearts "like the heart of God." We are climbing onto a throne that is not ours.

This passage is a severe mercy. It warns us that wisdom and wealth, while good gifts, are also spiritual high explosives. Handled without humility, they will blow up in our faces. The world tells us to be self-made, to be proud of our accomplishments, to build our own little kingdoms. But God says that this path leads to the pit. The way up is the way down. True wisdom is not found in being "wiser than Daniel," but in the fear of the Lord. True wealth is not found in treasuries of gold and silver, but in being rich toward God.

The ultimate answer to the pride of Tyre is the humility of Christ. Jesus is the one who truly could have said, "I am God," yet He "did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant" (Phil. 2:6-7). He is the king who descended from the throne of heaven into the pit of death for us. He died the ultimate dishonorable death, the death of the cursed, so that we proud rebels could be forgiven. The gospel calls us to repent of our own Tyre-like pride, to abandon our pathetic claims to divinity, and to bow before the one true King who died in our place. It is only when we confess, "You are God, and I am a man," that we can be saved from the judgment that our pride deserves.