The Forest of the Dead Text: Ezekiel 31:15-18
Introduction: The Pride of Nations
The book of Ezekiel is a covenant lawsuit, not just against Israel, but against all the nations. God is the sovereign judge of all the earth, and He holds every king and every kingdom to account. This is a truth our modern world has forgotten, much to its peril. We think of nations as autonomous entities, governed by polls and policies and GDP. God thinks of them as trees in His forest. Some are tall, some are impressive, some provide shade for a time. But the axe belongs to Him. And when a tree grows too proud, when it forgets its station and begins to think it is the gardener, the axe falls.
In this chapter, God has been delivering a majestic and terrifying parable against Pharaoh and the nation of Egypt. He compares Egypt to a great cedar of Lebanon, a world-power tree so magnificent that it towered over all the other trees in Eden, the garden of God. Its branches were full, its shade was expansive, and the nations of the world nested in its boughs. But its heart was lifted up because of its height. Pride entered in. And God says that He has delivered this proud tree into the hands of a mighty one of the nations, Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon, who will deal with it according to its wickedness.
The previous verses describe the felling of this great tree. Now, in our text, we follow the tree down into the underworld. God is not content to simply judge nations on the stage of history; He insists on writing the final obituary. He describes the cosmic and subterranean reaction to the fall of this great power. This is not just a political event; it is a theological one. The fall of a proud nation sends shockwaves through the cosmos, and it is a lesson that every other proud nation, and every proud heart, must learn.
We live in an age of proud nations. We live in an age where men defy God, create their own realities, and imagine that their towers of progress will reach to heaven. But Ezekiel reminds us that there is a graveyard for proud trees. It is called Sheol. And it is always accepting new residents.
The Text
‘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. 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. 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.
“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.”
(Ezekiel 31:15-18 LSB)
Cosmic Mourning for a Fallen Tyrant (v. 15)
We begin with the Lord’s description of the aftermath of this great fall.
"‘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." (Ezekiel 31:15)
When God judges, the whole creation pays attention. The fall of Egypt is not a small thing. God says He "caused mourning." This is a sovereign act. He orchestrates the funeral. Notice the reversal of fortune. Egypt was a nation built on a river, the Nile. Its prosperity, its very life, was tied to the predictable flooding of its waters. Pharaoh, in his pride, even declared, "My Nile is my own; I have made it for myself" (Ezekiel 29:3). Here, God mocks that pride by covering the fallen tree with the "deep" and stopping up its rivers. The very source of its arrogance is used as a funeral shroud. The waters that gave it life are now the instrument of its burial and mourning. God is saying, "You thought you controlled the waters? I will show you who is Lord of the deep."
This is a de-creation. The life-giving waters are restrained, and the result is that Lebanon, the great forest, mourns. All the trees of the field wilt. This is poetic, but it is also profoundly theological. The fall of a great power has real-world consequences. Ecosystems, both political and natural, are thrown into chaos. When a great cedar falls, it leaves a massive, sun-scorched hole in the canopy, and the smaller trees that depended on its shade now wither in the heat. The stability that even a pagan empire provides is a form of common grace. When God removes it in judgment, many suffer. God’s judgments are never neat and tidy; they ripple outwards, affecting everything.
The Nations Quake, The Dead Take Comfort (v. 16)
The reaction is not limited to the natural world. It extends to the nations on earth and to the dead beneath it.
"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." (Ezekiel 31:16 LSB)
First, the nations on earth quake. The fall of a superpower is a terrifying event. It is a loud crash that echoes through the halls of power in every other capital city. It reminds every other king that he is not ultimate. It demonstrates that there is a God in heaven who sets up kings and brings them down. This quaking is a healthy fear. It is the proper response to the display of God's sovereign power in history. God doesn't just fell trees quietly; He does it in a way that makes all the other trees tremble.
But then the scene shifts from the world above to the world below, to "the earth beneath," to Sheol. Sheol in the Old Testament is the abode of the dead, a shadowy underworld. And here we find a strange reaction: comfort. "All the trees of Eden, the choicest and best of Lebanon...were comforted." Who are these trees? They are the other great empires and kings that have fallen before Egypt. Assyria is there. The great kings of old are there. They are the former titans of history, now shades in the underworld. And when they see the great cedar of Egypt, the one who surpassed them all in glory, brought low just like them, they are "comforted."
This is the grim satisfaction of the damned. It is the misery-loves-company principle applied to geopolitics. There is a perverse comfort in seeing a rival, especially a proud and successful one, share in your own demise. They are saying, "Ah, you too? You, who were so much greater than us, have been brought to the same end. We are all equal in the dust." This is a terrifying picture of the afterlife for the ungodly. There is no joy, no peace, only a grim, spectral comfort in shared ruin. It is the ultimate leveling. In the grave, all the proud crowns lie in the same dust.
A Shared Destiny in the Pit (v. 17)
The great tree does not go down alone. Its allies and dependents share its fate.
"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." (Ezekiel 31:17 LSB)
This verse describes the client states, the vassal kingdoms, the allies who depended on Egypt's power. They are described as "its strength" who "lived under its shade." They hitched their wagon to Pharaoh's star, and now they follow that star as it plunges into the abyss. They sought security in the shadow of a great worldly power rather than in the shadow of the Almighty. And the result is that they share in its judgment. They go down with it to Sheol, joining the ranks of those "slain by the sword."
This is a perpetual warning. Who do you trust? In whose shade do you live? Is your security found in a political party, a powerful nation, a charismatic leader, or a robust economy? These are all tall trees. They offer shade for a time. But the axe is laid to the root of all of them. To trust in them is to sign up to share their fate. When God judges the great cedar, all the nations nesting in its branches are shaken out. The only true and lasting shade is found under the wings of Yahweh.
The Final Taunt (v. 18)
God concludes this oracle with a direct, piercing question to Pharaoh, stripping away the last vestiges of his pride.
"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." (Ezekiel 31:18 LSB)
The question is pure rhetorical mockery. "Go ahead, Pharaoh. Compare yourself to the other great empires, the other trees of Eden. Which one are you like?" The implied answer is, "You are like all of them." You may have been taller, more glorious for a season, but in the end, your destiny is identical. "Yet you will be brought down with the trees of Eden to the earth beneath." Your glory does not grant you an exemption from the grave. Your greatness does not purchase a different fate.
And notice the ultimate humiliation. "You will lie in the midst of the uncircumcised, with those who were slain by the sword." For an Egyptian, and particularly for a Pharaoh who considered himself a god, this was the height of disgrace. To be uncircumcised was to be outside the covenant, to be ceremonially and spiritually unclean. To be slain by the sword was to die a violent, dishonorable death, not to be carefully entombed and prepared for a glorious afterlife. God is telling Pharaoh that all his religious pomp, all his claims to divinity, all his elaborate burial preparations are a sham. He will die a common death and lie in a common grave with all the other godless pagans. His end is shame.
The final line is the hammer blow, the signature of the sovereign judge: "So is Pharaoh and all his multitude! declares Lord Yahweh." This is not a possibility. This is not a prediction. This is a divine decree. This is what will happen because the Lord God has spoken it. The story of Pharaoh is the story of every proud man and every proud nation. This is the end of all who lift up their hearts against God.
The Only Tree That Gives Life
This chapter is a forest of dead and dying trees. It is a prophecy of judgment against the pride of man, which thinks it can grow to heaven on its own strength. The story of humanity, from Genesis 3 onward, is the story of men trying to be their own trees of life, only to find that their roots are in a cursed ground and their end is the pit.
Pharaoh is a type of Satan, the proud ruler of a worldly kingdom, who offers men shade and security in exchange for their allegiance. He is the great cedar who exalts himself against God. But God has another tree. It is not a tall and glorious cedar. It is a rugged, blood-stained cross. It is the tree upon which the Lord of Glory was slain.
On that tree, the greatest humiliation in the history of the cosmos took place. The Son of God was made to "lie in the midst of the uncircumcised." He was numbered with the transgressors. He descended into the lower parts of the earth, into Sheol itself (Ephesians 4:9). He went down to the pit. He did this to conquer the grave, to disarm the principalities and powers who rule the forest of the dead.
And because He went down, He was raised up. He did not remain in the pit. God did not abandon His soul to Sheol (Psalm 16:10). And in His resurrection, He became a different kind of tree, a true Tree of Life. His leaves are for the healing of the nations (Revelation 22:2). His shade is the only true refuge. All the other trees, the proud cedars of human empire and achievement, will be brought down to the pit. They will find a grim comfort in their shared ruin. But those who take refuge in the shade of the cross, those who are nourished by the fruit of this tree, will be raised up with Him to eternal life.
The final question, then, is the same one God poses to Pharaoh. To what do you liken yourself? In what do you trust? In the shade of which tree are you living? For there are only two destinies. You can go down with the proud trees of Eden to the earth beneath, or you can be raised up with the humble tree of Calvary to the paradise of God.