Tyre was the world's marketplace, a city built on an island rock, its ships carrying everything everywhere. Ezekiel writes her obituary as a shipwreck: your wealth, merchandise, sailors, and all your company will sink into the heart of the sea.

Then the king of Tyre gets a deeper diagnosis: your heart grew proud on account of your beauty. Today is about the physics of self-made splendor.

Tyre's manifest is the point: the lament lists everything, because everything sank. Wealth that magnificent could not add one plank of buoyancy when the east wind came, and the king's deeper wreck happened first, splendor curdling into pride, wisdom corrupted by its own reflection.

Moses ran the opposite trade: Egypt's treasuries appraised, Christ's disgrace valued higher, and eternity has been auditing in his favor ever since. Every life is a cargo decision. Load beauty, skill, and wealth if God gives them, but let the fear of the LORD be the keel. Ships without one capsize in proportion to their cargo.