Commentary - Ezekiel 28:11-19

Bird's-eye view

In this passage, the prophet Ezekiel is directed by the Lord to take up a lament, a funeral dirge, over the king of Tyre. But as the lament unfolds, it becomes apparent that we are dealing with something far more significant than the downfall of a mere human potentate. The language used is elevated, cosmic, and primordial. It speaks of Eden, the garden of God, of an anointed cherub, and of a fall from a state of perfection. What we have here is a classic instance of biblical typology. The king of Tyre, in his pride, splendor, and subsequent fall, serves as a type, or a picture, of the original rebel, Satan himself.

The prophecy operates on two levels simultaneously. On the historical level, it is a pronouncement of judgment against the hubris and corrupt wealth of the Phoenician city-state of Tyre and its ruler. But on the typological level, it pulls back the curtain on the unseen spiritual realities that underpin human history. It gives us a glimpse into the original sin, the pride that led to the fall of the highest of God's created beings. The themes are stark: the corrupting nature of beauty and wisdom when divorced from humility, the pride that inflates the heart, the sin that follows, and the swift and terrible judgment of God that is the inevitable result.

Outline

The King of Tyre as a Type of Satan

The central interpretive key to this passage is recognizing the typological leap. How can a prophecy be about a human king and also about Satan? This is a common feature of biblical prophecy. The near fulfillment in the historical figure (the king of Tyre) serves as an earthly picture of the ultimate fulfillment in the spiritual realm (Satan's fall). The language simply cannot be contained by the historical king. Was the king of Tyre literally in Eden? Was he an anointed cherub? Of course not. The Spirit of God is using the prideful fall of this earthly king to teach us about the prideful fall of the prince of darkness.

This is not an allegory where the details all have a one-to-one symbolic meaning. Rather, the king of Tyre, in his immense wealth, wisdom, and pride, is a fitting shadow of the one who was the wisest and most beautiful of all created beings. His sin was the original pattern of all sin since: the creature turning in on itself, becoming enamored with its own reflection, and seeking to be the source of its own glory rather than reflecting the glory of the Creator. The judgment on Tyre is therefore a picture in miniature of the ultimate judgment that has already befallen Satan and will be fully consummated at the end of time.

Verse by Verse Commentary

v. 11-12 Again the word of Yahweh came to me saying, “Son of man, take up a lamentation over the king of Tyre and say to him, ‘Thus says Lord Yahweh, “You had the seal of perfection, Full of wisdom and perfect in beauty.”’”

The Lord instructs Ezekiel to sing a funeral song for someone who is still very much alive. This is a prophetic act, declaring that the king's demise is so certain that it can be mourned in advance. The Lord then addresses the king directly, and the description immediately transcends any earthly monarch. The "seal of perfection" suggests a signet ring, something that impresses a perfect image. This being was the pinnacle of God's creation, a masterpiece reflecting the Creator's own attributes of wisdom and beauty. This is not flattery; it is a statement of original, created glory. This is what he was made to be.

v. 13 “You were in Eden, the garden of God; Every precious stone was your covering: The ruby, the topaz, and the diamond; The beryl, the onyx, and the jasper; The lapis lazuli, the turquoise, and the emerald; And the gold, the workmanship of your settings and sockets, Was in you. On the day that you were created They were prepared.”

The location is specified: Eden, the garden of God. This is not simply a metaphor for a luxurious palace. This is a direct link to the primordial setting of God's original creation, the place where heaven and earth met. The description of his covering is lavish. A cascade of precious stones, the very materials used to describe the foundations of the New Jerusalem, were his adornment. This was not acquired wealth; it was created glory. The gold settings were part of his very being, prepared "on the day that you were created." This creature was not a human king who later put on jewels; he was created with this splendor as an integral part of his nature.

v. 14 “You were the anointed cherub who covers, And I placed you there. You were on the holy mountain of God; You walked in the midst of the stones of fire.”

Here his identity is made explicit. He was an "anointed cherub who covers." Cherubim are high-ranking angelic beings, often depicted as guardians of God's holiness, like those who guarded the way back to the tree of life after Adam's fall, or those whose images were woven into the temple veil. This one was a guardian, a protector of the divine presence on the "holy mountain of God," a term for the place of God's central dwelling. God Himself says, "I placed you there." His position was one of immense privilege and authority, granted by God. The "stones of fire" likely refer to the fiery brilliance and unspeakable holiness of the immediate presence of God. He walked in the very throne room of the universe.

v. 15 “You were blameless in your ways From the day you were created Until unrighteousness was found in you.”

This verse is the turning point of the lament. It establishes his original state: "blameless." He was created perfect. There was no flaw in him from the hand of his Maker. But this perfection was not eternal or immutable. It was the perfection of a creature, and therefore contingent and capable of falling. The tragedy is captured in that awful phrase, "until unrighteousness was found in you." Sin was not created in him, but rather it originated in him. It was a corruption that arose from within his own will.

v. 16 “By the abundance of your trade You were internally filled with violence, And you sinned; Therefore I have cast you as profane From the mountain of God. And I have destroyed you, O covering cherub, From the midst of the stones of fire.”

Now the typology returns to the historical king of Tyre. Tyre's sin was wrapped up in its "trade." Its commercial success led to arrogance, exploitation, and violence. This earthly reality mirrors the spiritual fall. Satan's "trade" was in trafficking lies and rebellion, peddling discontent in the courts of heaven. This internal corruption, this violence against the divine order, constituted his sin. And the consequence was immediate and catastrophic. God says "I have cast you as profane." The holy guardian became unholy, and was summarily expelled from the holy mountain. The one who walked among the stones of fire was destroyed from that place. The access was cut off. The privilege was revoked.

v. 17 “Your heart was lofty because of your beauty; You corrupted your wisdom by reason of your splendor. I cast you to the ground; I put you before kings, That they may see you.”

Here is the root of the sin: pride. "Your heart was lofty." The creature began to admire the creature. He looked at his own God-given beauty and splendor and, instead of giving glory to the Giver, he took the glory for himself. His wisdom, which was meant to be a reflection of God's wisdom, became corrupted. It was no longer used to serve God but to serve his own vanity. The judgment for this lofty heart is humiliation. "I cast you to the ground." The one who occupied the heights is brought down to the dust. He is made a public spectacle, a cautionary tale for earthly kings to behold.

v. 18 “By the abundance of your iniquities, In the unrighteousness of your trade You profaned your sanctuaries. Therefore I have brought out fire from the midst of you; It has consumed you, And I have turned you to ashes on the earth In the eyes of all who see you.”

The charge is repeated and expanded. The sin was not a one-time event but an "abundance of iniquities." The unrighteous trade profaned his "sanctuaries." For the king of Tyre, this could refer to the temples in his city, polluted by corrupt wealth. For Satan, it refers to his own being, which was created to be a sanctuary of God's presence, but was defiled by his rebellion. The judgment is poetic and fitting. The fire of judgment does not come from an external source alone; it comes "from the midst of you." The sin itself ignites the flame of God's wrath. The corruption from within becomes the agent of destruction. The end is total desolation: "ashes on the earth," a public and undeniable ruin.

v. 19 “All who know you among the peoples Are appalled at you; You have become terrified, And you will cease to be forever.”

The lament concludes with the final state of the fallen one. Those who once admired and traded with Tyre are now "appalled." The great merchant king has become an object of horror. He himself is filled with terror. And the final verdict is absolute: "you will cease to be forever." This does not mean annihilation, but rather a complete and permanent end to his glory, power, and position. His kingdom is finished. For Satan, this points to his ultimate destiny in the lake of fire, a state of perpetual ruin and judgment, a terror to himself and a warning to all creation for all eternity.

Application

The story of the king of Tyre is our story. It is the story of Adam, and it is the story of every proud heart. The sin described here is the root of all sin: pride. It is the creature forgetting he is a creature. It is taking the good gifts of God, beauty, wisdom, ability, success, and making them into idols. It is the heart turning inward to admire itself instead of outward and upward to adore the Creator.

We must see that our only safety is in humility. The moment we begin to be impressed with our own splendor, our own theological insight, our own moral accomplishments, we are on the same path as this anointed cherub. Our wisdom becomes corrupted, and our hearts become lofty.

The judgment here is also a promise of the gospel. The one who said "I cast you to the ground" is the same one who sent His own Son to the ground, to the dust of death. Christ, who possessed all splendor and wisdom, did not consider it something to be grasped, but humbled Himself (Phil. 2:6-8). He took the fire of God's judgment into Himself on the cross, becoming ashes for us, so that we who are but dust and ashes might be raised to heavenly places with Him. The pride of the first Adam and of Satan led to a fall from the garden. The humility of the second Adam, Christ, leads to our restoration to a garden city, the New Jerusalem, where we will walk with God not in stones of fire, but in the glorious light of the Lamb.