Commentary - Ezekiel 31:15-18

Bird's-eye view

In this section of Ezekiel's prophecy against Pharaoh, the Lord Yahweh pronounces a funeral dirge for a great king, using the imagery of a fallen cosmic tree. This tree, representing the glory and pride of Assyria, serves as a type, a stand-in, for Pharaoh and his own doomed kingdom. The passage is a potent illustration of God's absolute sovereignty over the nations. He raises them up, and He casts them down. The central theme is that pride, which apes divinity, is an offense that God will not long suffer. He brings all human glory down to the dust, down to Sheol, where all the proud potentates of the earth find their common, ignominious end. This is a picture of divine judgment, a de-creation of a proud regime, and a sober warning to all who would set themselves up against the Lord of glory.

The cosmic language here is important. The deep, the rivers, Lebanon, the trees of Eden, all creation is depicted as reacting to the fall of this great power. This is because the fall of a great nation is never a merely political event. It is a theological event, a moment when God's justice is displayed for all to see. The passage concludes by directly applying the parable to Pharaoh, ensuring there is no mistake. He and his multitude will share the same fate, lying in the grave with the uncircumcised and the slain. This is not just history; it is a revelation of the character of God and the fate of all who defy Him.


Outline


Context In Ezekiel

Ezekiel 31 is part of a larger collection of oracles against foreign nations, and specifically, a series of prophecies against Egypt. The prophet has been detailing the coming judgment on Egypt at the hands of Babylon. This particular chapter uses an extended allegory, comparing the king of Assyria to a magnificent cedar of Lebanon, a tree of Edenic proportions. This tree grew great and proud, but God cut it down. The first part of the chapter (vv. 1-14) describes the tree's glory and its sudden, catastrophic fall.

Our passage, verses 15-18, functions as the concluding lament and application of this allegory. It describes the aftermath of the fall in the underworld, Sheol, and makes the explicit connection to Pharaoh. The point is clear: as it went for the great and proud Assyrian empire, so it will go for Egypt. This is a classic example of biblical typology where one historical entity (Assyria) becomes a pattern or type for another (Egypt). God's dealings with men and nations are consistent.


Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 15 ‘Thus says Lord Yahweh, “On the day when it went down to Sheol I caused mourning; I covered it with the deep over it and held back its rivers. And its many waters were stopped up, and I made Lebanon mourn for it, and all the trees of the field wilted away on account of it.

The pronouncement begins with the ultimate authority: "Thus says Lord Yahweh." This is not Ezekiel's political analysis; this is the declaration of the sovereign God. The subject is the great tree, the Assyrian empire, and its descent "down to Sheol." Sheol here is the grave, the realm of the dead. God's action is immediate and cosmic. He "caused mourning." This is a divine funeral. God Himself is the chief mourner, but His mourning is the execution of His justice. He covers the fallen tree "with the deep," a reversal of creation. The deep (tehom) is the chaotic water of the formless earth in Genesis 1. The tree was watered by the deep to make it great (v. 4), and now it is buried by it. This is a de-creation. The sources of its life, "its rivers" and "many waters," are stopped up. God turns off the spigot. The prosperity and power of a nation are entirely dependent on His good pleasure. When He withdraws His hand, the mightiest empire dries up. The mourning spreads. Lebanon, famed for its cedars, mourns the loss of its greatest specimen. All the "trees of the field," lesser nations and rulers, wilt away. The fall of a superpower sends shockwaves through the entire ecosystem of nations.

v. 16 I made the nations quake at the sound of its downfall when I made it go down to Sheol with those who go down to the pit; and all the trees of Eden, the choicest and best of Lebanon, all the well-watered ones, were comforted in the earth beneath.

God's action is public and terrifying. "I made the nations quake." The fall of a world power is not a quiet affair. God intends it to be a lesson, a shot across the bow for every other proud nation. The "sound of its downfall" is the crash of divine judgment. Again, God emphasizes His own agency: "when I made it go down to Sheol." This is not a geopolitical accident. This is a divine sentence carried out. The destination is "with those who go down to the pit," the common grave of all mankind. In death, the great equalizer, the mighty Assyrian is no different from anyone else. Then comes a startling phrase: the other great trees, "all the trees of Eden, the choicest and best of Lebanon," were "comforted in the earth beneath." Who are these trees? They are the other fallen empires and kings of history, the proud ones who went before. There is a grim, ironic comfort in Sheol. It is the comfort of shared misery, the satisfaction of seeing a rival brought low. "You too? You have become as weak as we are!" (Isaiah 14:10). The grave is filled with proud kings who are glad to have more company. This is the ultimate end of all worldly glory when it is detached from the glory of God.

v. 17 They also went down with it to Sheol to those who were slain by the sword; and those who were its strength lived under its shade among the nations.

The allies and vassal states of the great empire share its fate. "They also went down with it to Sheol." You cannot enjoy the shade of a great pagan power without being implicated in its judgment. Those who were "its strength" or, as some translate, "its arm" (zera), its military might and allies, are dragged down with it. They sought security "under its shade," but the shade of a tree marked for felling is the most dangerous place to be. This is a perennial warning. To align yourself with the world's proud and mighty systems, to seek your security in their economic or military shade, is to book a ticket on a sinking ship. When God judges that system, its dependents go down with it. The only true and lasting shade is found under the wings of the Almighty (Psalm 91:1).

v. 18 “To which among the trees of Eden do you thus liken yourself in glory and greatness? Yet you will be brought down with the trees of Eden to the earth beneath; you will lie in the midst of the uncircumcised, with those who were slain by the sword. So is Pharaoh and all his multitude!” ’ declares Lord Yahweh.”

Here the prophetic lens focuses squarely on Pharaoh. The allegory is now applied directly. "To which among the trees of Eden do you thus liken yourself?" God asks a rhetorical question. Pharaoh, you see yourself as another one of these great world-historical figures, a tree of Edenic splendor. And God grants the comparison, but not in the way Pharaoh would like. You are indeed like them in glory and greatness. "Yet you will be brought down with the trees of Eden." You will be just like them in your fall. Your end will be the same ignominious end. You will "lie in the midst of the uncircumcised, with those who were slain by the sword." For an Israelite prophet, to lie among the uncircumcised was the height of shame and alienation from God and His covenant people. It means to die outside of fellowship with God, to be counted among the pagans. To be with those "slain by the sword" is to die a violent, cursed death. This is the end of all who trust in their own glory. The final sentence is blunt and leaves no room for misunderstanding. "So is Pharaoh and all his multitude!" This entire parable, this entire cosmic drama of the fallen tree, is about you, Pharaoh. And the final seal is placed on the verdict: "declares Lord Yahweh." This is certain. It is decreed. The glory of Egypt will be laid in the dust, just like all the proud empires before it.


Application

The principle laid down in this passage is timeless. God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble (James 4:6). Nations, rulers, and individuals who grow great in their own eyes, who become towering cedars of self-importance, are marked for judgment. The fall of Assyria was a sermon for Egypt. The fall of Egypt is a sermon for us.

We live in an age of superpowers, of great corporate and political trees that offer their shade to the nations. The temptation is always to trust in them, to find our security in their stability and power. But this passage reminds us that God is the one who waters the trees, and He is the one who holds the axe. Our trust must not be in any "tree of Eden," no matter how glorious, but in the God who planted them.

Ultimately, there is only one Tree that provides true and lasting life and shade. This is the Tree of Life, which is Christ Himself, crucified for our sins. All the proud cedars of Lebanon are cut down and brought to Sheol. But this one Tree was cut down in weakness at Calvary, went down into the pit, and was raised again to glory. He descended into the earth beneath, but unlike the comforted trees of Eden, He was not held there. He rose again, and now offers true shade and leaves for the healing of the nations. The choice before us is the same as the one implicitly before Pharaoh: will we take refuge under the shade of the proud trees of this world, which are destined for the axe? Or will we find our life and our security in the shade of the cross?