Ezekiel 27:12-16: in context

Ezekiel's lament over Tyre catalogs the vast reach of its trade. Tarshish traded silver, iron, tin, and lead; Javan, Tubal, and Meshech traded bronze vessels, and, the text notes darkly, the persons of men. Togarmah brought horses and mules; Dedan brought ivory and ebony; Syria traded emeralds, purple, fine linen, coral, and rubies. Tyre was the marketplace of the nations, rich beyond measure with the merchandise of the whole world. And this whole magnificent commerce is being described in a funeral song, for the great trading city is about to fall.

The setting of this catalog is what gives it its weight: it is a lament, a funeral song, over a city about to be ruined. Tyre had grown fabulously wealthy, the trading hub of the known world, its markets piled with silver and gold and gems and every precious thing; and its wealth felt like security, like permanence, like glory that would never end. And Ezekiel sings its dirge. All that commerce, all that accumulated wealth, would not save it; the great market of the nations would fall, and its riches with it. There is a sober word here about the security we find in wealth and enterprise. Tyre trusted in its trade, its riches, its commercial glory, as though these made it secure; and they were no security at all against the judgment that came. Wealth and prosperity, however vast, are not permanent and cannot finally save; the richest city falls like any other. And there is a darker note in the catalog worth marking: among Tyre's goods were the persons of men, human beings trafficked as merchandise. Some of its wealth was built on the trading of people, an injustice woven into its riches. This is not incidental to its fall; God judges wealth built on the exploitation and sale of human beings. The lament over Tyre thus carries two warnings: that riches and commercial glory are no lasting security, for the wealthiest are not spared the day of reckoning; and that wealth built on injustice, on the using and trafficking of human beings, is under God's judgment, however it gleams. It is a funeral song over a city that trusted in its riches; and its riches could neither save it nor cover the injustice within them.

Do I find my security in wealth and prosperity, trusting riches as though they were permanent and could save, when the wealthiest city fell like any other; and do I reckon that wealth built on the exploitation of human beings, however it gleams, is under God's judgment, as Tyre's traffic in the persons of men was?