Ezekiel tells a parable of exile (Ezekiel 17) involving a cedar in Lebanon, two eagles, and a vine.

The great eagle plucks twigs off the top of a cedar and takes them away to a “city of traders” (vv. 3-4). The eagle also takes some of the seed from the land (apparently Lebanon) and plants them beside abundant waters, where they grow into a vine (vv. 5-6). Another eagle appears, and the vine reaches toward him, only to be withered by an east wind (vv. 7-10).

It’s an allegory of exile: Nebuchadnezzar will pluck the princes of Jerusalem to Babylon; he’ll scatter the seed of Israel in his land beside his waters. Those vines that lean toward Egypt, though, will be withered (vv. 15-17).

My interest is in the initial symbolism of the parable. A cedar of Lebanon might be a generic tree-kingdom image, but it’s also an image of the temple, made from cedar. The eagle plucks some branches and twigs from the tree, and that deposits them as a little hut in the city of Babylon. Exiles make a temple, a “booth” of cedar twigs while in exile. The temple is destroyed, but the remnant of the temple is with the exiles in Babylon. They are back in the wilderness, living in shacks.

And the exiles are also a vine. Israel is a vine replanted from Egypt to Israel (cf. Psalm 80), and here they are replanted again, this time to Babylon. They flourish and become a “splendid vine” (v. 8) beside the abundant waters of the Euphrates. Can Israel sing the Lord’s song in a strange land? Apparently so: They can flourish like a vine, producing the wine of joy, even while sorrowing in exile.