When the Big Trees Fall Text: Zechariah 11:1-3
Introduction: The Axe is Laid to the Root
The prophetic word is often a jarring thing. It does not come to us to soothe our sensibilities or to confirm us in our comfortable arrangements. It comes, more often than not, like a thunderclap on a clear day, to announce that the party is over. God sends His prophets to tell His people what time it is, and frequently, the time is later than they think. In these opening verses of Zechariah 11, the prophet delivers what amounts to a funeral dirge, a lament for the coming fall of the nation's leadership. This is not a distant, abstract judgment. This is a prophecy of a coming devastation that would find its ultimate fulfillment in the cataclysmic judgment that fell on apostate Israel in A.D. 70.
We are a people who like to think of judgment as something that happens to other people. We read these ancient words and imagine God's wrath falling on faceless pagans in faraway lands. But the prophets' heaviest words were almost always reserved for the covenant people of God. Judgment begins at the household of God. When the leaders of God's people become proud, when the shepherds cease to feed the flock and begin to feed on the flock, when the glory of the nation is found in its own strength and not in the Lord, then the fire of God's judgment is not far off. The imagery here is stark and powerful. It speaks of the tallest trees, the mightiest forests, the proudest symbols of national strength, all coming down in a fiery crash.
This is a warning against covenant pride. Israel had been chosen by God, given the law, the temple, the promises. But they began to trust in the gifts rather than the Giver. Their leaders, the great men of the nation, were like the towering cedars of Lebanon, renowned for their strength and majesty. They were like the sturdy oaks of Bashan, symbols of unshakeable power. But God warns that no strength, no earthly glory, can stand when He determines to bring it down. When the shepherds of the people lead them astray, the glory of the flock is ruined, and the sound of wailing fills the land. This is a picture of total societal collapse, beginning from the top down.
We must read this not as ancient history for Israel, but as a perennial warning for the Church. The principles of covenant faithfulness and judgment are unchanging. When leaders in the church or the state grow arrogant, when they trust in their own might and glory, they are setting themselves up for a great fall. God is in the business of humbling the proud, and He often does it by setting a fire to their proudest achievements. This passage is a call to humility, a reminder that all our strength is in the Lord, and a sober warning of what happens when a people and their leaders forget that fundamental truth.
The Text
Open your doors, O Lebanon, That a fire may consume your cedars.
Wail, O cypress, for the cedar has fallen, Because the mighty trees have been destroyed; Wail, O oaks of Bashan, For the impenetrable forest has come down.
There is a sound of the shepherds’ wail, For their might is destroyed; There is a sound of the young lions’ roar, For the pride of the Jordan is destroyed.
(Zechariah 11:1-3 LSB)
The Coming Fire (v. 1)
The prophecy begins with a taunt, an ironic invitation to destruction.
"Open your doors, O Lebanon, That a fire may consume your cedars." (Zechariah 11:1)
Lebanon was famous for one thing above all others: its magnificent cedars. These were the trees used to build Solomon's Temple, the very house of God. They were symbols of majesty, strength, permanence, and royalty. In the prophets, these towering trees are consistently used as symbols for the proud and lofty rulers of nations, and particularly of Israel. Isaiah uses this exact imagery: "The day of the LORD of hosts shall be upon every one that is proud and lofty... And upon all the cedars of Lebanon, that are high and lifted up" (Isaiah 2:12-13).
So when Zechariah says, "Open your doors, O Lebanon," he is speaking poetically to the leadership of Israel. The "doors" of Lebanon can be understood as the mountain passes, the entry points into the land. The command is one of sovereign irony. God is telling the proud nation to welcome its own destruction. The fire is not accidental; it is a consuming fire of divine judgment. This is not a forest fire started by lightning; it is a fire sent with a purpose. That purpose is to consume the cedars, to bring down the high and mighty leaders who have grown proud in their own strength.
This points directly to the judgment that was coming upon the generation that rejected Christ. The leaders of Israel, the chief priests, the Pharisees, the elders, saw themselves as the magnificent cedars of God's planting. They were the glory of the nation. But their pride and apostasy had turned them into fuel for the fire of God's wrath. The Roman armies that marched into Judea in the years leading up to A.D. 70 were the fire that God sent to consume these proud cedars. Josephus tells us that the Romans cut down all the trees around Jerusalem for miles. The glory of the land was stripped bare, a physical picture of the spiritual devastation that had already taken place.
A Chorus of Wailers (v. 2)
The destruction of the great ones causes a chain reaction of grief among the lesser.
"Wail, O cypress, for the cedar has fallen, Because the mighty trees have been destroyed; Wail, O oaks of Bashan, For the impenetrable forest has come down." (Zechariah 11:2 LSB)
The cypress, a lesser but still significant tree, is told to wail because the cedar has fallen. When the greatest leaders are toppled, those of the second rank have every reason to fear. The destruction is comprehensive. The oaks of Bashan were also proverbial for their strength and durability. Bashan was a fertile region east of the Jordan, and its oaks were symbols of robust, unshakeable power. But even they are told to wail, for the "impenetrable forest" has been felled. What man thought was secure, what seemed to be a fortress of natural strength, has been brought down by the divine decree.
This is a picture of systemic collapse. When God judges a nation's leadership, the entire structure is shaken. The "mighty trees," the "impenetrable forest," this is the whole ruling class, the entire leadership structure of apostate Israel. They had created a system that seemed invulnerable to them, a religious and political fortress. But it was a fortress built on the sand of their own righteousness and rebellion against God's Messiah. When the axe of God's judgment falls, it doesn't just trim a few branches; it brings the whole forest down.
The call to "wail" is a summons to recognize the reality of the situation. This is not a time for political maneuvering or self-confident pronouncements. It is a time for mourning, for the glory is departing. This is the outworking of covenant curses. When God's people obey, they are blessed. When they rebel, particularly when their leaders lead them in rebellion, the curses of the covenant come upon them, and all their earthly strength proves to be nothing but a pile of kindling.
The Howling of the Shepherds (v. 3)
The imagery now shifts from trees to shepherds and lions, but the theme remains the same: the destruction of the proud leadership.
"There is a sound of the shepherds’ wail, For their might is destroyed; There is a sound of the young lions’ roar, For the pride of the Jordan is destroyed." (Zechariah 11:3 LSB)
The metaphor is now made explicit. The wailing is coming from the "shepherds." Throughout Scripture, rulers and leaders are called shepherds. Jeremiah speaks of the worthless shepherds who scatter and destroy the flock (Jer. 23:1-2). Ezekiel condemns the shepherds of Israel who feed themselves instead of the sheep (Ezek. 34:2). These are the men who were entrusted with the care of God's people, but who used their position for their own gain. Their "might," or as some translations have it, their "glory," is destroyed. The basis of their pride, their position, their wealth, their authority, is all being stripped away.
The sound of wailing is matched by the roar of young lions. Lions are symbols of predatory power and royalty. The rulers of Judah were to be lions for God's truth, but they had become predators of God's people. Their roar is not a roar of triumph, but of anguish and rage. Why? Because "the pride of the Jordan is destroyed." The "pride of the Jordan" refers to the dense, jungle-like thickets along the Jordan River, which were the natural habitat of lions. It was their place of security, their stronghold. This thicket, this place of pride and safety, has been destroyed. Their cover is blown, their dominion is ruined.
This is a perfect image for the destruction of the ruling class in Jerusalem. They had their stronghold, their temple, their traditions, their thicket of legalistic righteousness where they hid from the plain truth of the gospel. But the fire of God's judgment, carried by the Roman legions, burned up their thicket. Their pride was laid waste, and all that was left was the sound of wailing and the impotent roar of cornered predators. This is what happens when the glory of man confronts the glory of God. It is always destroyed.
The Great Divorce
So what are we to do with such a passage? We must see it first as a prophecy that was devastatingly fulfilled. The Lord Jesus, the true Shepherd, came to His own, and His own, led by their corrupt shepherds, received Him not. They rejected and crucified the Lord of Glory. And as a result, God divorced that apostate nation. The judgment Zechariah foresaw came to pass in that generation, just as Jesus said it would (Matt. 24:34). The cedars fell, the oaks wailed, and the pride of the Jordan was laid waste in the fires of A.D. 70.
But the principle is timeless. God still hates pride, especially pride within the covenant community. He still opposes leaders who love their own glory more than the glory of God and the good of His flock. And He is still in the business of bringing down impenetrable forests. Whenever men in the church begin to trust in their programs, their buildings, their budgets, their political influence, their intellectual pedigrees, they are planting cedars of Lebanon and oaks of Bashan in God's sight. They are building a thicket of pride for themselves.
And the warning of Zechariah still stands. God will send a fire. He will bring it all down. Our security is not in the strength of our institutions or the brilliance of our leaders. Our security is in Christ alone. He is the true Temple, the true King, the Good Shepherd who laid down His life for the sheep.
The wailing of the shepherds in Jerusalem is a warning to all shepherds in every age. Feed the flock of God. Love the sheep. Point them to Christ. Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God. Do not build your own little kingdom, your own impenetrable forest. For if you do, you will one day hear the crackle of the approaching flames, and your roar of pride will turn into a wail of despair. But for those who trust in the humble Shepherd-King, for those whose glory is in the cross, there is no fear. For our kingdom is the one that cannot be shaken, and our King is the one whose glory will never be destroyed.