Sermon: God's Noble Cedar (Ezekiel 17:22-24)

June 17, 2024

A sermon I gave at the opening service of the Friends of Wycliffe Hall Summer School 2024. The readings were Ezekiel 17:22-24 & Mark 4:26-34.

About two or three weeks ago, I came across a phrase that was entirely new to me: the “millennial pause.” If you don’t know what it is, let me enlighten you! The two youngest generations of those who’ve reached adulthood are Millenials and Gen Zers. Both are digital natives: they grew up with the internet, cellphones and social media, to some degree. The “millennial pause” describes how when it comes to creating content to put on Instagram or whatever, someone from the older of the two generations—a Millenial—will often pause at the start of their video. Why do they do this? Because older technology took a few seconds to engage when you pressed record. You couldn’t start talking right away otherwise it might not make it onto the video. Gen Zers, on the other hand, laugh at Millenials because they know that the tech today is much quicker to engage when you hit that red button. They also know that if you want someone to watch your video on Instagram or TikTok, you mustn’t waste a second.   

                  

With time, things change. Technology advances. New generations grow up. Culture shifts. And those who were once “in the know” start to join those that went before them and cease being relevant in the way they once were. Whether whether it’s small things or large, the only thing guaranteed in life is that the world around us will change.

So it’s a really good thing to be able to gather and pray and learn this week and spend time reflecting on the God we worship and what it means to proclaim the gospel “afresh in each generation.” The task in every century, every decade of the church’s life, has involved grappling with the reality of a world that is not quite the same as the one we were born into. One in which technology changes, but also one in which people are facing different challenges, different opportunities, and are often asking questions about life and meaning from a different vantage point, a different lens. How do we share we the good news of God in Christ to today’s world? A world where AI is not the stuff of sci-fi but of today? A world that holds so much beauty and life and opportunity for goodness but also a world of conflict, confusion and fear?

Regardless of which generation we’re in, what decade of life, or what changes are taking place before us, the God we proclaim afresh—the God revealed in Jesus Christ remains the same. Both our readings today speak to this God, using the image of a sizeable tree that God will bring about. A tree that despite where it came from—whether a mustard seed in Mark or tender twig in Ezekiel—will grow up to bear fruit and provide protection and safety for the birds of the air. 


And today, I want us to spend a little time, considering this image and proclamation of God’s goodness and how He works through the lens of Ezekiel 17. 


For these verses from the Old Testament describe a remarkable vision of hope. Read on its own, we can certainly see its optimism. This positive expectation that God is good and brings about good things. Look at what God is going to do! Look at the tree He will grow! Look at his power to bring life! But I want to suggest it’s a lot more than that as well. For this vision of hope is for those for whom such a life seems impossible.


God’s words in Ezekiel 17 are a message for a people who have had their lives upended and homes destroyed, a people who have been taken into captivity in Babylon. A people who’ve seen their young, 18 year old, king- Johiachin- taken as a prisoner of war to a foreign city. A people who’ve had their God-given place of worship, sacrifice and renewal of God’s promises and covenant, torn down and left in ruins. These are words for God’s people of Judah, facing the hopelessness of exile.

God here is basically saying:

  • “Yes, you have been taken into captivity, but I will bring you back.” In v.22 God declares he will uproot and set out the sprig. He will plant a tender one on the mountain top. In v.24, it is God who can bring low and dry up or raise up and cause to flourish. “One day, you will again be part of a vast tree that provides life and nourishment and safety. Yes, you’re under a foreign empire who is far more powerful than you are. Yes, the life that you knew has been shattered. But it’s not forever. I will do it.”
  • “Yes, your king has been taken by the Babylonians, but I will bring one of his descendants to the throne.” That’s what it means when God says He will take a tender twig from the topmost branch and plant it on the high mountain. Much earlier in the chapter, in verse 4, this branch seemed hopelessly stuck in a foreign city under foreign rule. But God will be faithful to his promise. He’ll not forget his chosen king, Jehoiachin.
  • “Yes, it looks likes everyone but you has power right now. Yes, it looks like the Babylonians—and their gods—have won, but I am not done yet. One day, my work will be done and all the trees of the field will see it.” Yes, right now, Babylon looks to be vastly more powerful. Yes, it looks like God is anywhere but present. But God is the God who brings low the high tree, and dries up the green one. One day, all will see it to be so.

While centuries apart, this sounds remarkably consistent with the God we know through the event of Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Easter Sunday. A God who rescued us from the impossible exile of our sin and alienation from God. All that burdens, shames and weighs us down. He has made it possible for us to be brought back. A God who brought us back from the exile of death, our risen king and has seated him on high. A God who, to echo Mary’s words in the Magnificat, brings down the proud and lifts up the lowly. A God before whom all powers will one day bow and surrender. 


No matter the challenge of today. No matter the circumstance. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners—captive to the power of sin—Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8)


Every day, this is good news in our own lives as followers of Jesus, as we do the work of coming face to face with our shortcomings and failures and being his light in the world. This is a grounding reassurance that we can trust God today, even when we might feel lost and at sea, struggling and fearful and unsure of the way ahead.


Things might seem impossible to us, but it’s never impossible for God.


***


But we are missing a beat if we stop there. Because these three verses of Ezekiel 17 come at the conclusion of a longer message God has for his people. 


Yes, these verses are good news for those who are humble enough to admit they need help. But they are a little more challenging for the proud.


God’s people were in exile. The chosen king, Jehoiachin, had been taken captive. But Babylon had then installed a new king, Zedekiah, in Jerusalem. Only Zedekiah wasn’t willing to accept being under the rule of Babylon. He wanted out. So, he started courting a different power, Egypt. Why? To try and negotiate some kind of agreement whereby he could use Egyptian military power to overthrow Babylon and restore God’s promised land—and secure his throne.


Zedekiah’s problem was that he did not want to accept the experience of suffering and being under a foreign power. He did not want to learn the lessons God was wanting to teach his people. He did not want to undergo the humiliation of realising it was their own sin that had brought them into exile in the first place.


And what’s really telling here, is that earlier in Ezekiel 17:7-8, God uses a parable to describe Zedekiah. In it, the king and the people are like a vine, a vine that has been taken and planted and is reaching out for help from the eagle that is Egypt. Why do they reach out? So that (v.8) “it might produce branches and bear fruit and become a noble vine.” Zedekiah wants those things that God will eventually provide in the tree in v.23. A tree with large branches, bearing fruit. A noble cedar. 


But here’s the thing Zedekiah didn’t get: success would not come from his own solution. It wouldn’t come via Egypt or trying to avoid suffering.


In fact, he will fail, God says, because he tried to escape. Because he was unwilling to be humbled. Unwilling to be teachable, accept suffering, and trust in God. That’s why v.22 has the emphasis on God, himself, being the one to take and plant.


***


The vision of this tree is good news for the humble. But less so for the proud. And I think this is a harder lesson then we often want to admit. Zedekiah’s plan is politically pretty savvy! Yes, Egypt was the power that had originally enslaved the Israelites in the days of Moses, but who wouldn’t want to think creatively in order to be rid of a present enemy? 

My husband and I have been recently watching our way through the TV series Homeland. Its depiction of the CIA is one that lauds this kind of thinking. Political nous. Strategy. Playing for the win. Befriending an enemy in order to overpower or outplay another.


But this is not the way that God’s people are to act. We are not responsible for fulfilling God’s promises. We are not responsible for how He will one day restore and establish his kingdom.


We are responsible for what we do today: whether we’re humble. Whether we’re teachable. Whether we’re willing to trust God’s means and God’s provisions or whether we return to old idols or old enemies to take things into our own hands.


For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it. What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?

(Mark 8)


For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted. (Luke 14)


***

The Judean exile did not last forever. Just a few decades later, when another generation had come along, Jehoiachin’s grandson, Zerubbabel, brought the people back into the land following the fall of the Babylon.


And that is the same God we worship today. The same God we proclaim today. He brings back the humble from the exile of their sin, as they follow their risen king. He raises the dead. He brings new life. And one day, every generation will see it. The proud will be brought low. All injustices squared away. All unrighteousness dealt with.


One of the desert fathers, Abba Anthony, is reported to have said this: "Let us not lose heart, and let us not think that what we are doing takes too much time or is too great an undertaking, for the sufferings of the present time do not compare to the glory that is going to be revealed to us. Let us not look at the world and think that we have renounced great things, for even the whole world is very small when compared with all of heaven. If we were lords of all the earth and renounced the whole world, once again that would not compare with the kingdom of heaven."


This is the remarkable hope we share afresh in each generation. Regardless of the challenges of this world, even with seismic changes, our God remains the same. He brings back to life. He redeems. He brings low the proud and raises up the lowly. 


So let us be teachable, let us trust Him, and let us wait with hope for when his glory will be revealed.


******



Cover photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash

By Suse McBay July 28, 2026
Let me start by asking a question: if someone came up to you and asked what's the benefit or blessing of being a Christian, what would you include in your answer? There's the things we might know to say from Sunday School: Jesus loves me, died for me, so I can be forgiven and free. Or something like that. Would it naturally come to your lips to say this: The gift of my faith is that no matter how hard life gets, no matter the sorrow or suffering that comes my way, I am reassured and strengthened by the confidence that God does not ignore the unjust lives or deaths of those who stick close to Him? *** This summer I’m taking some time to look at Daniel 11-12 and Book 4 of the Jewish poetic writings I research, the Sibylline Oracles . This post is an observation and an out-loud thought from some of my reading. Again and again, both in Daniel, the Sibyllines, an array of other Jewish literature, and the gospels (as well as elsewhere in the NT—e.g. Mark 8:38-9:1, 10:29-31, John 11:25, 1 Cor 15:16-19, 2 Corinthians 4), resurrection and the post-mortem life appears as an encouragement and response to the problem of human suffering. Not a rationale or justification. It’s not an answer to the question of ‘why does God allow suffering’ in any overt sense. But an end to the story of God’s peoples that shapes how the present might be lived. When I was very young, I thought resurrection was more-or-less a get of jail free card for the crucifixion. Jesus died on a cross to deal with sin and death. But if he isn't raised it's all pointless: so God has to raise him. Resurrection as an after thought, if you will. But resurrection isn't an epilogue. It's the victory. Without it the whole story is pointless. It's a real, substantial, material hope. *** Life is hard work. Life does not always go our way. Even when it does, that way isn't usually what we really wanted anyway! There's the normal hard stuff of life: work, family, friendships, health and so on. Then there's the hard stuff of following God. We are given so much goodness in the gospel: a relationship with God for starters! But also forgiveness, healing, reconciled relationships, a change and liberation of priorities, freedom and new life. All such wonderful and good things. Yet they are all a foretaste. Reconciliation doesn't always happen. We might have an interior freedom but experience hardship after hardship externally. I've been reading the diaries of Etty Hillesum who expereinced just that. She was a young Jewish woman in the 1940s. She experienced such a bliss and joy because of her faith and spirituality that found contentment even in life in a concentration camp. Yet her life ended at the tender age of 29. So much life left to live, so much potential unrealised. *** Resurrection is a reminder and encouragement that our real hope and the true fulfilment of the gospel isn't in the here and now (it begins now, but as a foretaste of what's to come). We aren't to expect ' everything will go my way ' in this life or that I should experience the perennial blessing of God in my earthly life and relationships. Following God will not be easy. The things He calls us to do may not succeed. The people we love may not love us back. The person we pray for may never come to faith. The change we want to see manifest in the world around us may not happen in this life. But resurrection says this: God has not forgotten. God sees it all. God will set right. Unjust deaths will be dealt with. Unfair hardship will be set straight. This life is not all there is. There is so much more to come, that all of this--even the heart-breaking stuff—will pale in significance in comparison. Yes, that doesn't stop it hurting in the present moment. It doesn't stop grief or stem the tide of darkness today. But it allows us to let go. Surrender. Trust. None of this has to be fixed now. We do what we can. But the outcome of it all is not one realised in this life, but the next. So take courage. There is more to come. ******
By Suse McBay June 24, 2026
Peter Murrell, a Scottish political worker and now ex-husband of Nicola Sturgeon (former SNP party leader), was this week sentenced to 5 years in prison for embezzlement. Over the years he had used party money to buy all manner of things. It began with a Play Station 3 but escalated, to buying silver wine coaster, a Jaguar, and a motor home (the list goes on and on). Now embezzlement is not new. Nor is using political office for personal gain. But what struck me were the comments from the lawyer following the sentencing: “ The accused is now an individual overwhelmed by feelings of embarrassment and shame .” Shame. We don’t know if it’s true or not, but I wonder how you respond to hearing such contrition? Responses can range from the judgemental (“ Good! He deserves it ”) to the overly sympathetic (“ Perhaps he’s learned his lesson ”). But regardless of where we individually fall on the sympathy scale, it was an interesting example of what I’ve been thinking about recently: healthy shame . Mr Murrell has undeniably done something wrong and has betrayed the office given to him. He’s estranged from his wife. He’s headed to prison. He was there to represent the people, but instead, he has preyed on the sheep (Ezek. 34:2 has things to say about this). That uncomfortable feeling of recognising where we have transgressed our limits and have become hoodwinked by our own hubris and entitlement. His inadequacies have been publicly exposed. His dirty laundry is out in public. We may be more accustomed to scandal given the internet age, so we may be desensitised to it, but I bet Peter Murrell is not. When it happens to you, it’s painful. It’s uncomfortable. It’s exposing. I’m no psychologist, so I’d recommend John Bradshaw’s book on Healing the Shame That Binds You , if you want to think more about it. Dan Allender and Tremper Longman have a good Christian reflection on different emotions in Cry of the Soul. But I’ve been noticing where healthy shame appears in Scripture. Shame crops up again and again and again. I’m still in the early stages of thinking about where it appears and why, but one clear example of where it occurs is in scenes of divine judgement, both those in the present and those yet to come. God’s People Exposed (1) Daniel 12:1-4 talks about how Jewish believers in the 2 nd century BCE would be raised. The wise and understanding ones who didn’t comply with the political schemes of Antiochus IV would be raised to shine like stars. The others? Those who had aligned themselves with the emperor and in the process forsaken their covenant loyalty to God? They would be faced with everlasting shame (and contempt). (2) Jeremiah 2 has strong words for God’s people of Israel who have got so wrapped up in themselves they have stopped seeking where God is at work and instead are playing with other idols under the illusion of thinking they’re faithful because they keep the Law. They even say they don’t run after false gods (v.23). They’ve tried to seek out gain from the political powers (v.18) rather than humbly submit themselves to God (v.20). The result? They will be put to shame by Egypt (v.36). In an eerily similar statement to the news from Scotland: “As a thief is shamed when caught, So the house of Israel shall be shamed: They, their kings, their officials, Their priests, and their prophets.” (Jer 2:26) And the same is true in the New Testament. Mark 8:38 says this: "Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels." I suspect these are words for people who don’t listen to Jesus’ words in the preceding lines: the message that to follow Jesus is to take up your cross, deny yourself. Surrender your own wants and desires. Those who, like Peter, wanted to avoid death. Avoid suffering. Avoid hardship. Those who wanted a Messiah that came on a horse not a donkey. One who wore a crown of gold, not one of thorns. ** So what a bout us? How do we avoid that fate? Well, like a bill that if you don’t pay now you’ll be paying a lot more later, we need to start facing our inner shame today. Both the healthy shame and the shame we’ve been given that doesn’t belong to us. We might take some time to pray, be still, listen. See what comes up when we think about our uncomfortable feelings that usually stay in the shadows. The great gift of shame is that it shows us our limits. Where we’ve crossed the line and harmed ourselves, others, and our relationship with God. Where we’ve tried to be more than human (or acted in fear that we’re less than human). But shame also dies on exposure. Though I’d also add that shame dies on exposure in the presence of a loving other. We find a person or a group where we can start doing the crazy thing and actually revealing our shameful selves to others. Peter Murrell is full of shame, his lawyer says. The question is: what will he do with it? Will he use this public humiliation to face himself as he is? Does he have people around him to listen to him and to help him through it? I hope so. Genuinely. I hope that for all of us. That we would have the courage to allow the One who is Light to bring light into the midst of our shame today. To bring us out of hiding. Shame is a horrible feeling: I’m not a fan. But I do know that on the other side is acceptance, serenity, and a joy that really does make it worth it. It is true freedom—and it’s only in that freedom I can become who God has made me to be. Because whatever I’ve done, however humiliating, the deepest truth of all is that I’m made in the image of God. I am loved. ****** Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash

Join us in Oxford in 2025!

Subscribe to

My Newsletter

Sign up here to receive quarterly updates (and occasional other news blasts) about how ministry is going and our move to the U.K.