And behold, there came a man of God from Judah, by the word of Jehovah, to Bethel; and Jeroboam stood by the altar to burn incense.
Jeroboam has torn ten tribes from the house of David and built his own worship centre at Bethel — his own altar, his own priests, his own feast. Into the king's ceremony God now sends a stranger from Judah, and one phrase governs everything he does: "by the word of the LORD."
The altar in this verse was not one God had asked for. It was part of a system the king thought up himself, copied from the real worship in Jerusalem.
This "feast" of Jeroboam's imitated the Feast of Tabernacles, which God had commanded Israel to keep in the seventh month. The eighth was the month Jeroboam "devised from his own heart" — a heart always deceitful and desperately wicked. And how many practices and customs in the Christian world have come out of men's own hearts, with no foundation in Scripture! Instead of "Thus says the LORD," many seem to think that in spiritual things a person may do what is right in his own eyes. It is the thoughts of God's heart, not mine, that I am to heed and put into practice.
The king himself stands at the altar, doing the work of a priest.
"Jeroboam was standing by the altar to make offerings" (v. 1). It goes without saying that the man who had invented his own priesthood, and ordained anyone who wanted the job, could not hold that priesthood in high regard. Under royal authority it had become a political tool in his hands. So there is nothing surprising in the king claiming the right to perform its rites as he pleased.
God does not strike yet. He sends one man out of Judah with a set errand, and the same word that told him what to say also told him what not to do.
God, however, raised up a witness against this terrible evil. "By the word of the LORD," God gave this man light about the evil at Bethel. He learned that this evil was so hateful to God that the day was soon coming when God would deal with it in judgment (vv. 1, 2)... God warned him especially not to weaken his testimony by keeping company with the evil. He was to deliver his message, give his sign, and then leave.
Notice how often the phrase repeats through the chapter. It is not decoration; it marks off every area of the man's service.
The Lord sends a missionary into that land with words of judgment. "The word of the LORD" ordered it all: his commission, his ministry, and his conduct in his ministry. He comes out of Judah to Bethel "by the word of the LORD" (v. 1). He cries against the altar "in the word of the LORD" (v. 2). And "the word of the LORD" lays down how he is to behave while he is in that place doing that service (v. 9)... This provided for everything: he had only to keep to it.
The messenger's own name is never given — and that silence is part of the lesson.
The man through whom God gives His testimony counts for so little that the prophet is not even named in this account. He is simply a man of God — but what a title! A man of God is a servant who represents God before men, and on whom God has stamped His own character. Such a man speaks for God; he speaks the very words of God. It is a high and solemn office. But it reduces the man himself to nothing and strips him of all confidence in the flesh.
The chapter opens in strength and ends in tragedy. The turning point is a word from another prophet.
While Jeroboam was standing beside his idolatrous altar in Bethel, God brought a prophet from Judah to pronounce His judgment against it. The message named Josiah of the house of David as the one who would carry out that judgment. More than three hundred years later Josiah carried it out to the letter (1 Kings 13:1–5; 2 Kings 23:15–18). The man of God then listened to the lie of the old prophet of Bethel and disobeyed, and judgment overtook him for it. This is a solemn reminder of the great danger of listening to men instead of to the voice of God, whatever those men have been and whatever they claim.
- Devised — Jeroboam's altar, priests and feast came out of his own heart, not God's command. The same warning covers any practice with no foundation in Scripture.
- Sent — God answers invented religion with a witness first: one man, out of Judah, on a set errand.
- Word — the same word settles his commission, his message and his conduct; he had only to keep to it.
- Title — the messenger is never named. "Man of God" is enough: a servant who represents God before men and carries His stamp.
- Danger — the man who cried against the king's altar was undone by another prophet's lie. God's voice, not a religious man's, must stay the final authority.
And he cried against the altar by the word of Jehovah, and said, O altar, altar! thus saith Jehovah Behold, a child shall be born unto the house of David, Josiah by name; and upon thee shall he sacrifice the priests of the high places that burn incense upon thee, and men's bones shall be burned upon thee.
Jeroboam has set up a rival worship centre at Bethel. As he stands at his own altar burning incense, an unnamed man from Judah speaks a sentence over it, naming the king who will destroy it three hundred years before that king is born. Two questions follow: why the words strike the altar and not the king, and how God can name a man who does not yet exist.
The words are aimed at the altar, not at the king and not at the idol. One writer explains why:
The man of God cries against the altar (v. 2), not against the idol. For man to imagine that he can replace God's altar is more hateful in God's eyes than anything else he can do. God's altar is unique; this He has proclaimed before all. Believers have but one altar, Christ, the Lamb of God (Hebrews 13:10). God will judge wicked men who want to set up another altar alongside His own. A worship set up by man cannot last forever. Divine judgment will fall upon it. But when God destroys it, He will at the same time put the priests of this profane religion to death upon their own altar.
The words sound like pure doom. But one writer sees mercy in them: God sent a prophet at all, to a people who had wandered from Him.
God's testimony and God's judgment did not delay. They came in keeping with His mercy towards His people. Prophecy at once reappears, for God's faithful love to His people never grows weary. His mercy endures forever. The testimony of His word does not fail. Prophecy is God stepping in with a testimony when the people go astray and the ordinary links between God and His people break down... With Jeroboam, the LORD defends the rights of His glory against the king himself and against his altar.
The prophecy names the man who would act, not only the act. One writer sets it beside another named-in-advance king:
The man of God announced the unborn king by name and also what he would do, just as Isaiah announced the unborn King Cyrus and his work. Higher criticism has laboured in vain to destroy this great evidence of prophecy.
Another writer asks a blunt question. Where is the difficulty in this?
This prophecy is very precise. It names the man who would destroy Jeroboam's altar. In the same way the LORD named Cyrus hundreds of years before his birth (Isaiah 45:1). And why not, we ask? Where is the difficulty? Away with the foolish unbelief that would rob us of a priceless gift: the wide range of prophetic truth stored up in Holy Scripture!
Jeroboam had broken away from David's line. Yet judgment on his altar would come from that same line:
The prediction that judgment would reach Bethel by a prince of David's line must not pass unnoticed. The LORD was very displeased with that royal house. Yet He had not abandoned His purposes for it. Josiah, in his work of destruction, is a picture of Christ. All Scripture points to Him. At His appearing He will judge and clear away all evil from Israel, and from the earth as a whole.
Josiah did what the sentence said. At Bethel he made one exception. He spared the tomb of the man who had spoken it:
He goes to Bethel and condemns all this evil at its source. So he fulfils the prophecy once spoken before Jeroboam against the altar where that king had offered sacrifices... However, he spares the tomb of the man of God who had pronounced these things. Whatever this man's unfaithfulness had been, he recognises what had been done for God by him... In the same way, every Christian heart acknowledges what men of God in past times have done to serve Him. It respects their work, even though failures have marred it.
This naming reaches further than one king:
God can name His servants long years before their birth. He did so with Josiah. He did so with Cyrus, whom God used to help His people after the captivity (Isaiah 44:28; Isaiah 45:1). And this is the God who has chosen us in Christ "before the foundation of the world" (Ephesians 1:4).
- Altar — The cry is against the altar, not the idol or the king. A worship people invent for themselves cannot stand. God has only one altar.
- Mercy — Sending a prophet at all shows love that does not tire; God still speaks when His people have broken with Him.
- Name — God names Josiah before his birth, as He later named Cyrus. Unbelief has never explained that precision away.
- David — Judgment comes through David's line, a house God had not abandoned. Josiah clearing away evil pictures Christ at His appearing.
- You — The God who named Josiah centuries early is the God who chose believers in Christ before the foundation of the world.
And he gave a sign the same day, saying, This is the sign that Jehovah hath spoken Behold, the altar shall be rent, and the ashes that are upon it shall be poured out.
Jeroboam was burning incense on his own altar at Bethel when a man of God from Judah named the king who would one day tear it down. The prophet then added a sign — proof Jeroboam would see that same day.
The prophecy about Josiah reached centuries ahead. The sign did not. One writer notes that God regularly joins the two:
That prophecy might wait for its fulfilment in due time. But God gives a present sign, as He constantly does — a present pledge of a future accomplishment.
God often announces a judgment long before He carries it out. That gap is not weakness or forgetfulness. One writer finds the same pattern across Scripture, and says what the waiting time is for:
This is His common way. He pronounces judgment, but delays carrying it out, giving present pledges of it. The interval is called "His patience" — and we know it is "salvation," a time for gathering and giving life (2 Peter 3:15). Enoch pronounced the judgment of the ungodly. We know from Jude that that judgment is still to be carried out — but the Flood was a pledge-fulfilment. The Lord pronounced the judgment of Jerusalem in Matthew 24. The very terms of that sentence show that it is still to be carried out — but the Roman invasion was a pledge-fulfilment of it.
The same writer adds that the far-off word came true exactly as spoken:
The judgment pronounced here was carried out to the very letter (2 Kings 23). God named Josiah in prophecy beforehand, as He later named Cyrus (Isaiah 44).
reason: golden calves not in any quote; tighter lead-in
The man of God cries against the altar (v. 2), not against the idol. For man to imagine that he can replace God's altar is more hateful in God's eyes than anything else he can do. God's altar is unique; this He has proclaimed before all. Believers have but one altar, Christ, the Lamb of God (Hebrews 13:10). God will judge wicked men who want to set up another altar alongside His own. A worship set up by man cannot last forever. Divine judgment shall fall upon it… The man of God announces a king from David's line, Josiah, who would overturn the high places of Israel. He names him three hundred and fifty years before his day (v. 2). He gives a present sign of what would happen in years to come: the altar is torn apart and the ashes upon it are poured out.
The man of God did not invent the sign any more than he invented the message. God gave him both, and set a limit on how far he could go into Bethel's company:
God, however, raised up a witness against this dreadful evil. He sent a man of God out of Judah to Bethel to condemn the wickedness of Jeroboam. "By the word of the LORD," God opened this man's eyes to the evil in Bethel… God directed him by sign and word to witness against the evil (v. 3). He warned him in particular not to weaken his testimony by associating with the evil. He was to deliver his message, give his sign, and then leave.
Jeroboam's response was to reach out and order an arrest. What happened next settled whose word stood:
Jeroboam, angry, put out his hand against the prophet of Judah, only to have that hand dried up, so that he could not pull it back to himself. God vindicated His word and His servant, for the altar was torn apart and the ashes poured out.
One writer marks the timing — the message had barely landed before the sign was announced:
Before Jeroboam had time to speak, the man of God told him, "This is the sign which the LORD has spoken: surely the altar shall split apart, and the ashes on it shall be poured out" (v. 3).
(Older translations read "the altar shall be rent"; the ESV renders it "the altar shall be torn down.")
- Word spoken. The prophet named Josiah centuries before his birth. That word was a sentence passed on Jeroboam's altar, and it was carried out "to the very letter."
- Word pledged. The sign came the same day, in miniature. It is "a present pledge of a future accomplishment," God's usual way of guaranteeing what He has not yet done.
- Word patient. The delay between sentence and execution is not indifference. It is "His patience," and that patience is "salvation" — time for gathering and giving life.
- Word aimed. The cry goes against the altar, not the idol. A worship people set up for themselves cannot last. Believers have one altar, Christ.
- Word vindicated. The hand stretched out to silence the messenger dried up. The altar split as promised. God defended both His word and His servant.
And it came to pass when the king heard the word of the man of God, which he cried against the altar in Bethel, that Jeroboam stretched forth his hand from the altar, saying, Lay hold on him. And his hand which he stretched out against him dried up, so that he could not bring it back again to him.
Jeroboam stood at an altar of his own making, and a stranger from Judah announced its doom. The king pointed and ordered his arrest. The arm he raised then stopped working in mid-air.
The king moved to silence the message by arresting the messenger.
The moment Jeroboam hears this he wants the man arrested. He stretches out his hand from the altar, saying, "Seize him." But the power of God was with the word of God.
The hand was not chosen at random. It was the hand that had made the whole false system, now caught in the act of trying to protect it.
Jeroboam set up this hateful system with his own hand. That same hand stretched out to seize the man of God. It dried up at the very moment the king thought he could silence the witness of the Lord and of His Word. He could not pull it back. It stayed stretched out in its threatening gesture against the man of God and against God Himself — a monument to his powerlessness.
It happened in front of everyone, at the altar and calf Jeroboam had made.
At the altar he had built, in front of the calf he had made, the LORD showed His power. His arm stayed stretched out, showing what he wanted to do. But he had lost control of it. It is a striking picture of how helpless man is when he sets himself against God. That day the LORD made everyone see that He stood above the idols and was nothing like them.
Jeroboam's own request showed how little he trusted what he had built.
Jeroboam had set up a religion he invented himself for his people. But clearly he had no real confidence in it. When his outstretched hand dried up, he asked the man of God from Judah to pray to "the LORD your God" that his hand might work again… His own religion might be useful for his political goals. But it was no use when his own body or his son's life was at stake!
The message named the priests, not the king. Jeroboam took it as aimed at himself, and ignored an older warning to kings.
It was a bold message, but delivered faithfully. It was aimed not at the king but at the priests, though the king seemed to feel that it applied to himself… Jeroboam had forgotten, or ignored, the warning God gave to kings almost a thousand years before: "Touch not my anointed ones, do my prophets no harm" (Ps. 105:14-15).
One writer sees in this rescue a promise for everyone God sends.
God shows here that He is God indeed. He keeps His loved ones, His witnesses, and defends them… We have nothing to fear when God sends us. No one on earth, however high his position, can seize us. If anyone is ever allowed to, it is only as far as God carries out His purposes through him.
The man of God said nothing back. When God struck the king who had threatened him, he prayed for him.
The enraged king orders his servants to seize the man of God. The man of God is silent in the face of threats. When God strikes the man who threatened him, he acts in interceding grace.
God healed the hand as fast as He had struck it. What it taught, and what Jeroboam took from it, were two different things.
The man of God did so, and in grace the Lord answered at once and healed his hand. What a lesson for Jeroboam — God is both a God of truth and a God of grace!
Yet the king asked for prayer without ever praying for himself.
"Pray for me," said Jeroboam in alarm. Sadly, the unhappy man had never learned to pray for himself. In this he reminds us of Pharaoh (Ex. 8:8) and of Simon the sorcerer (Acts 8:24). He had felt the power of God at work, and it should have led him to repentance. But flesh learns nothing. He felt the consequences of his sin, but not the evil of it.
- The hand acts. Jeroboam reached out to silence the witness of the Lord and of His Word.
- The hand freezes. It stuck in its threatening gesture, in front of everyone — a monument to his powerlessness.
- The hand is powerless. God made everyone see that He stood above the idols — and Jeroboam's own plea proved he never trusted them.
- The hand is healed. The prophet prayed for the man who had threatened him, and God answered at once: a God of truth and a God of grace.
- The heart stays hard. He felt the consequences of his sin, but not the evil of it. Feeling God's power is not the same as repenting.
And the altar was rent, and the ashes poured out from the altar, according to the sign that the man of God had given by the word of Jehovah.
Jeroboam built his own altar at Bethel to stop his people going up to Jerusalem. While he burned incense on it, a stranger from Judah foretold its ruin, and this verse gives the sign that backed his words.
The man of God had staked his message on something the crowd could check that day. It happened in front of them, along with the withering of the king's own hand.
God stepped in without warning. The king's hand withered at once. It was so paralysed that he could not pull it back (v.4). But that was not all. The sign the man of God had spoken of took place before their eyes: the altar was split apart and the ashes poured out (v.5).
The prophet's cry was aimed at the structure, not at the golden calf standing beside it. One writer draws out what that choice says about what God most resents.
The man of God cries against the altar (v. 2), not against the idol. For man to imagine that he can replace God's altar is more hateful in God's eyes than anything else he can do. God's altar is unique; this He has proclaimed before all. Believers have but one altar, Christ, the Lamb of God (Hebrews 13:10). God will judge wicked men who want to set up another altar alongside His own. A worship instituted by man cannot last forever; divine judgment will fall upon it. But God will not destroy it without also putting the priests of this unholy religion to death on their own altar. The man of God announces a king of David's line, Josiah, who would tear down Israel's high places of worship, calling him by name three hundred and fifty years before his day (v. 2).
The prophecy itself pointed far ahead. The torn altar was God's way of making a distant word credible now — a method He uses again and again.
That prophecy might wait for its accomplishment in due time, but a present sign is given, as God constantly does — a present pledge of a future accomplishment.
So the sentence was passed, the execution was postponed, and a small instalment was paid on the spot.
This is how the Lord deals with such corruption, and it is His usual method. He sends His servant from the land of Judah to the altar at Bethel, under a fresh communication of His mind and a fresh anointing of His Spirit. The servant is to condemn that altar and to deliver the judgment of God against all who had joined themselves to it. The carrying out of that judgment is held back until the time of Josiah, the future King of the house of David. But He also gives a present pledge of that execution: the altar was torn apart at that moment, and the ashes on it were poured out.
after_note: DELETE
Notice whose rights are at stake. The king stretched out his arm against the prophet, and both his altar and his arm gave way.
But the testimony and the judgment of God did not delay, according to the mercy of God towards His people. Prophecy appears again at once, for the faithful love of God to His people never grows weary... In the case of Jeroboam, the LORD defends the rights of His glory against the king himself and against his altar. The altar is torn apart and the ashes poured out. The king's arm, stretched out against the prophet, is dried up. It is restored only through the prophet's intercession.
The sign came with rules for the man who delivered it. They covered what he ate, which road he took, and whom he sat with.
God directed him by sign and word to witness against the evil (v. 3). God also gave him a clear warning: he was not to weaken his testimony by keeping company with the evil. He was to deliver his message, give his sign, and then leave. On no account was he to eat bread or drink water at Bethel, nor was he to return by the same way he came. He was to have no fellowship with the false position of those people. They claimed to be the people of God, yet they were walking in disobedience to the word of the LORD.
- Word. God did not leave a corrupt worship centre without a witness. He sent a man from Judah, and the message struck at the altar itself. A rival altar beside God's own is what He hates most.
- Sign. The same word that sentenced the altar cracked it open that day. The watching crowd could see that the speaker had not invented his message.
- Pledge. The sentence itself waited for Josiah's day. The split altar and spilled ashes were God's down payment on a promise three and a half centuries away.
- Glory. God defended His own rights, not the prophet's reputation. The king's altar and the king's arm gave way in the same moment.
- Warning. The messenger was told to deliver the sign and leave. He was to share no table and no road with the evil he had just condemned.
And the king answered and said to the man of God, Intreat now Jehovah thy God, and pray for me, that my hand may be restored to me again. And the man of God intreated Jehovah, and the king's hand was restored to him again, and became as before.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And the king said to the man of God, Come home with me, and refresh thyself, and I will give thee a present.
Moments earlier, Jeroboam stretched out his hand to arrest the prophet, and his hand withered. The prophet prayed, and God healed it. Now the same king offers a meal and a reward. Can a man who survived the king's violence survive his kindness?
One commentator notes that the miracle changed the king's hand but not his heart:
So we find not only the chastening of God's people for their good, but also the punishment of the wicked. That punishment is at least a warning to them, meant to break down their proud will. So it was with Jeroboam. "The man of God prayed to the LORD, and the king's hand was restored to him again, and became as it was before"; but it left the king as he was before. There was no bending of his heart to the Lord. Nevertheless the king could not help being civil, and so he says to the man of God, "Come home with me, and refresh yourself, and I will give you a reward."
Violence failed, so the king tries kindness. One writer calls this the harder test:
A few minutes more, and the prophet has a more severe test. Verse 7 is the world's patronage. Now that the prophet has established a certain claim on the king by healing him, the situation is changed. Now, man of God, take care! He did take care. That brought out this striking declaration: "If you give me half your house, I will not go in with you." The world is now fawning and smiling on him. "Come and sit at my royal table," says the king, "I will give you a reward." It is a very difficult thing to refuse, yet he did refuse. He stood the test. The world sometimes swings round and would gladly patronise us. That is much more difficult.
Jeroboam may have meant nothing more than thanks. One writer sees another hand behind the invitation:
The king's violence had turned back on himself; but Satan does not consider himself defeated. He comes onto the scene and seeks to use Jeroboam as his instrument. Let us beware of the world's favours even more than of its threats! If the man of God had accepted the king's expression of gratitude, it would have been an act of disobedience that would have dishonoured the Lord. Jeroboam no doubt was ignorant of what God had forbidden His servant, but Satan was well aware of it. The godless king did realise what acceptance would mean. If the man of God took his hospitality and reward, he would in some measure link himself with the king who had dishonoured the Lord. He would then be quietly saying that things were not as serious as he had first thought. In that way his testimony would be cancelled, as Satan well knew.
Jeroboam offers God's messenger a gift while leaving God's message untouched. That habit is not confined to one king:
Instead of arresting the prophet, Jeroboam invited him to his own home to be refreshed and to receive a reward (v. 7)! Ungodly men are often ready to give money or other gifts to God, thinking that God can be bribed into being favourable to them while they remain indifferent to the Word of God.
One writer sets the prophet's refusal beside Daniel, who turned down the gifts of King Belshazzar:
Then he who a little while before would have persecuted him now wants to entertain him and give a reward for his healing. But like Daniel, who nobly answered King Belshazzar, "Let your gifts be for yourself, and give your rewards to another" (Dan. 5:17), so also "the man of God" here refuses to be patronised — oh, mark it, all you servants of the living God.
Refusing a dinner can look like a small thing. One writer reads a shared meal as a sign of fellowship:
All this is excellent. There was firmness in the tone of the LORD's messenger. He clearly understood the nature of his commission, and he was determined to be obedient in every detail. Royal patronage would not turn him away from the Word of God. Eating and drinking express fellowship; so we are taught in 1 Cor. 10:14-22; and there could be no fellowship between the people of Bethel and the man who represented the LORD and His truth. Let us not miss the lesson of this. The need for bold testimony against religious evil grows more urgent as the great falling away from the faith draws near. But the testimony of our lips loses all its value if we tolerate for a single moment what we know to be contrary to God.
- Healed, not changed. God restored Jeroboam's hand, but his heart stayed where it was. He became civil without becoming obedient.
- The harder test. The king's violence failed, so he tries kindness instead — and writers warn that a smile is more dangerous than a threat.
- The aim. Sharing the king's table would have tied the messenger to the man he had just rebuked. It would have said the matter was not so serious after all.
- The answer. "If you give me half your house, I will not go in with you." Obedience in every detail — because a tolerant table empties a bold message.
And the man of God said to the king, If thou wilt give me half thy house, I will not go in with thee, neither will I eat bread nor drink water in this place;
The prophet's prayer has just healed the king's withered hand, and now Jeroboam wants him home for a meal and a gift. Why would a servant of God refuse a meal from the man he had just helped?
The king who wanted the prophet seized now wants him at his table. One writer reads the change of tone as the same enemy trying a second door:
The king's violence had turned back on himself; but Satan does not consider himself beaten. He comes on the scene and seeks to use Jeroboam as his instrument... Let us beware of the world's favours even more than of its threats! If the man of God had accepted the king's gift of thanks, he would have disobeyed and dishonoured the Lord. Jeroboam did not know what God had forbidden His servant, but Satan knew it well. The godless king did realise this. If the man of God accepted his hospitality and reward, he would to some degree connect himself with the king who had dishonoured the Lord. He would be saying, without a word, that things were not as serious as he had first made out. This would cancel his testimony, as Satan well knew.
The prophet had already faced the king's anger without flinching. Another writer says the softer test is the one more men fail:
A few minutes more, and the prophet faces a harder test. Verse 7 is the world's patronage. Now that the prophet has a certain claim on the king by healing him, the situation has changed... The world is now fawning and smiling on him. "Come and sit at my royal table," says the king, "I will give you a reward." It is a very difficult thing to refuse, yet he did refuse. He stood the test. The world sometimes swings round and would gladly take us under its wing. That is much harder.
Refusing bread and water seems a small thing until you ask what a shared meal says. One writer points to where the evil stood:
Here was the LORD slighted. Where? Among the nations? That would be no wonder. Among His own people — direct apostasy from the Lord God of Israel. Here was a man who went out in the strength of the word of the Lord. Absolute separation was therefore required. In every age, people have rightly seen eating and drinking as the sign of fellowship.
The messenger's own behaviour can undo his message against religious evil. One writer ties the refusal to the place itself, and then to us:
There was firmness in the tone of the LORD's messenger. He clearly understood what his commission was, and he was determined to obey in every detail. Royal patronage was not going to turn him aside from the Word of God. Eating and drinking express fellowship, as 1 Corinthians 10:14-22 teaches. There could be no fellowship between the people of Bethel and the man who represented the LORD and His truth... The need for bold testimony against religious evil grows more urgent as the apostasy draws near. But the testimony of our lips will lose all its value if we tolerate for a single moment what we know to be contrary to God.
"Half your house" is the largest figure the king can name, and it changes nothing. The speed of the answer is itself the lesson:
The feet of the man of God stand firm in the bright and blessed path of obedience, and all is victory. The king's offers are flung aside without a moment's hesitation. Half the royal house cannot tempt him off the narrow, holy, happy path of obedience... There is no reasoning, no questioning, no hesitation. The word of the Lord settles everything. He has only to obey, whatever the consequences.
The story does not end here. The same pull came again, this time from a prophet instead of a king:
This was the devil in a new shape. What the word of a king had failed to do, the word of a prophet might achieve. It was a trick of Satan that the man of God was clearly unprepared for. The prophet's clothing deceived him and threw him completely off guard. We can see at once that his tone has changed. When answering the king he speaks with vividness, force and bold decision.
- Threat, then favour. Force failed at the altar, so the same pressure came back as kindness. Commentators warn us to fear the world's favours more than its threats.
- Favour buys silence. One meal at the king's table would have said that the evil he had just condemned was not so serious.
- A table is a statement. Eating and drinking have always signalled fellowship. The ban on bread and water banned company, not food.
- A price cannot move obedience. He turned down half a kingdom without hesitation. The word of the Lord had already settled it.
- A new shape. He refused a king, and later gave in to a fellow prophet. When force and favour fail, the enemy comes in a friendlier form.
for so was it charged me by the word of Jehovah, saying, Thou shalt eat no bread, nor drink water, nor return by the way that thou shalt go.
The man of God from Judah has just delivered God's message against the altar at Bethel, where God's own people had turned away from Him. Now King Jeroboam offers him a meal and a reward, and this verse is his whole answer: God has already ruled on his food, his drink, and his road home.
His refusal rests on one thing: what God had already said. One writer draws out what that meant when the offer came:
The feet of the man of God stand firm in the bright and blessed path of obedience, and all is victory. The offers of the king are flung aside without a moment's hesitation. Half the royal house cannot tempt him off that narrow, holy, happy path. There is no reasoning, no questioning, no hesitation. The word of the Lord settles everything. He has only to obey, no matter what it costs.
The ban is not about hunger or thirst. A shared table carries a meaning:
Here was the LORD slighted. Where? Among the Gentiles? That would be no wonder. Among His own people — direct apostasy from the LORD God of Israel. So God commanded complete separation. In every age, people have rightly treated eating and drinking as the sign of fellowship. That may be fellowship of the most solemn kind — between God's people and the Lord Himself at His own table. But even in smaller ways, eating and drinking are not as slight as people suppose.
These people were not strangers to God's name:
He was specially warned against weakening his testimony by associating with the evil. He was to deliver his message, give his sign, and then depart. He was to have no fellowship with the false position of those people. They claimed to be the people of God, yet they were walking in disobedience to the word of the LORD.
The king's threat had failed. His next move was a friendly one:
Let us beware of the favours of the world even more than of its threats! If the man of God had accepted the king's expression of gratitude, it would have been an act of disobedience that would have dishonoured the Lord. Jeroboam no doubt did not know what God had forbidden His servant, but Satan was well aware of it. The godless king did realise this: if the man of God accepted his hospitality and reward, he would to some degree tie himself to the king who had dishonoured the Lord. He would then be quietly saying that things were not as serious as he had first thought. His testimony would be cancelled, as Satan well knew.
The last part of the command covers his journey home:
He was not to eat bread or drink water, or even to go the way he came. He was to pass through the land. He was not to retrace his own footprints on a path he had already walked. He went through as a man with a mission to carry out, and then he was done with it. This was God's purpose in it. It was also a very clear and solemn sign, because it was meant to be a testimony. So he was not to repeat it only to the people who had already seen it. Others were to see it too.
Another writer ties the new road to something about God Himself:
Whether he understands the charge given him by the Lord or not, the prophet's path is simple: God has spoken to him; he must obey. He must not return by the same path. To do so would deny that God never goes back on His ways.
He did not keep this word to the end. What should have held him is the very sentence he speaks here:
What, we may ask, should have kept the man of God from falling into this trap? His own words give the answer, for he admits, "for so was it commanded me by the word of the LORD, saying, 'You shall neither eat bread nor drink water nor return by the way that you came.'" So his safeguard against every effort to draw him into a false association was unbending obedience to the word of God. About this scene someone has truly said, "Whenever God has made His will known to us, we must not let any later influence whatever call it into question. That holds even if the influence takes the form of the word of God… In every case our part is to obey what He has said."
- Charged. His refusal has one reason and no other: the word of the Lord had spoken, so there was nothing left to reason about.
- Table. God banned bread and water because sharing a meal has always signalled fellowship. Bethel had turned away from Him.
- Favour. Force failed, so the king offered a gift. A favour from the wrong hand is more dangerous than a threat.
- Route. God named even his road home. The errand ended clean, and the testimony reached new eyes.
- Safeguard. The command he quotes here was the very thing that could have kept him safe. No later voice may call into question what God has already said.
So he went another way, and returned not by the way that he had come to Bethel.
The man of God from Judah had just condemned the altar at Bethel, survived the king's anger, and refused the king's reward. Verse 10 records his last act of obedience — he goes home by a road he has never walked, and the question is why that road mattered to God.
The road home was not an afterthought. The same command that banned bread and water also set his route home. One reason covers all three.
God gave him a special warning against weakening his testimony by associating with the evil. He was to deliver his message, give his sign, and then depart. On no account was he to eat bread, or drink water, at Bethel, and he was not to go back by the same road he came. He was to have no fellowship with the false position of these people. They claimed to be the people of God, yet they were walking in disobedience to the word of the LORD.
A man who retraces his steps looks like a man returning. A man on a new road is passing through — and more people see him go.
He was not to eat bread or drink water, or even to go the way he came. He was clearly to pass through the land. He was not to be like someone retracing his own footprints in a path he had already walked. He was to go through it as a man with a mission to perform, and then be done with it. This was God's purpose in it. It was a marked and solemn sign, because it was meant to be a testimony. So he was not to repeat it only for the same people who had already seen it. Others were to see it too.
Another writer reads the same instruction as a statement about God Himself.
Whether he understands the charge given him by the Lord or not, the prophet's path is simple: God has spoken to him; he must obey. He must not return by the same path; that would be to deny that God never goes back on His ways. And the prophet obeys.
The ban on food was not about hunger. Sharing a meal has always meant something.
Here was a man who went out in the strength of the word of the Lord. Absolute separation was therefore required. In every age, people have rightly seen eating and drinking as the sign of fellowship.
The king had tried threats first. Then came an invitation and a gift, and one writer sees the sharper danger there.
Let us beware of the favours of the world even more than of its threats! … If the man of God accepted his hospitality and reward, he would to some degree connect himself with the king who had dishonoured the Lord. He would be quietly saying that things were not as serious as he had first thought. The godless king did realise this. His testimony would be cancelled, as Satan well knew. But the prophet stays faithful. He obeys the word of the Lord, and even the greatest earthly gain does not tempt him.
He took the new road, and then he stopped on it. One writer puts the first crack right there.
He had been told that he was not to return by the same way that he came. He was clearly meant to get away as fast as possible. A man who is forbidden to eat and drink was not meant to sit under a tree. But he was sitting. That was the beginning of it. That was his first failure, and there is no failure — there is no ruin — that happens in one step. There is always a departure from the word of the Lord which exposes us to the power of the devil.
He refused the king outright. His reply to the next man who invited him sounds different.
But in his reply to the prophet, there is a clear decline in energy, boldness and decision. He says, "I may not return with you nor go in with you." And in giving the reason, instead of the forceful word "charged," we have the feeble expression, "It was said to me."
- Word. The road home was part of the command, not a detail — the same word that sent him also told him how to leave.
- Witness. A new road made him a man passing through on an errand, seen by fresh eyes, never a man drifting back.
- Separation. No bread, no water, no old road: sharing a table is the sign of fellowship, and he was to have none with Bethel.
- Favour. He resisted the king's threats, then the king's gifts. Accepting a gift would have quietly said the sin was not so grave.
- Sitting. He obeyed on the road, then sat down on it. Ruin never arrives in a single step; it starts with one departure from the word of the Lord.
Now there dwelt a certain old prophet in Bethel; and his sons came and told him all the works that the man of God had done that day in Bethel; the words that he had spoken to the king, them they told also to their father.
Verse 11 moves from the king to a quiet household in Bethel, where an old prophet hears his sons' report of the day. One question hangs over everything that follows: why was a prophet of the Lord living in the town God had just condemned?
The text gives no hint that this man joined in Jeroboam's calf worship. Commentators still point to where he lived as the root problem.
At Bethel there was an old prophet. He was not living there by command of the Lord, for the Lord was not using him in His service. He was living there with his family. Perhaps, we might even say probably, he had nothing to do with Jeroboam's false religion. But his presence alone at Bethel approved what was going on there, and the prophet from Judah understood this. Whether he wanted to be or not, the old prophet was tied to the evil. The result of that tie was that he, a prophet, was not let into the secret of God's thoughts. He learns them from others — from his sons who repeat the words of the Lord to him. God shows neither Himself nor His thoughts to a servant found in an association that dishonours Him.
One writer weighs the word "old" itself, and what living in a bad setting had cost him.
The one who led the man of God from Judah astray was himself a prophet of the Lord. The Holy Spirit calls him "an old prophet" (1 Kings 13:11)… Like Lot before him, he lived in bad surroundings, and "bad company ruins good morals" (1 Cor. 15:33). Large numbers of godly people gave up everything in the Northern Kingdom to escape Jeroboam's idol worship. They went south into Judah and Jerusalem, where there was still some regard for the law of the Lord (2 Chron. 11:13-17). But the old prophet stayed in Bethel! … He was not the kind of man God could use to denounce in public the wickedness of Jeroboam and his followers. That is why there was a special mission for the man of God out of Judah.
Others put it as a simple question of consistency: how could he rebuke a darkness he shared in?
There was "an old prophet" in Israel at that time — another man of God, I have no doubt, but, like Lot, found in a place where he ought not to have been, and where he could not act in character as a prophet; for how could he reprove the darkness with which he was more or less in fellowship?
One writer points to what the report touched in him, and to the faith he lacked.
An old prophet lived in Bethel. But he did not have the energy of faith to resist Jeroboam's idol worship. His sons told him of the man of God who came from Judah, what he had done and what he had spoken for the Lord to Jeroboam (v.11). These things clearly spoke to the old prophet's conscience. He thought he should have some contact with the man of God from Judah.
One writer names the motive underneath his interest in the man of God:
What was his interest in acting this way against him? It was this: if the man of God would listen to him, it would be like a divine approval of his position at Bethel.
The old prophet's appeal came wrapped in good things: age, hospitality, a shared calling, even a word said to come from an angel.
To refuse such an appeal would appear to be slighting a fellow prophet. It would also look like disrespect for old age. And it would look like indifference to brotherly kindness that was so ready to show hospitality. Above all it would look like ignoring a direct word of the LORD given by an angel. Yet the story shows what lay behind all these plausible reasons that nature might plead. The enemy was at work to undermine the word of the Lord by drawing the man of God into a wrong association.
One commentator points to something earlier still. The man of God sat down when God had never told him to.
He was not told to sit under an oak. There was the beginning of it. There was his first failure, and there is no failure — there is no ruin — that takes place at one step. There is always a departure from the word of the Lord that exposes us to the power of the devil. And it is not first, I repeat, Satan's power. It is first our own failure, our own sin, our own disobedience.
- Dwelling. His sin was where he lived, not what he believed. Staying in Bethel approved what God had just condemned.
- Barrenness. Because of where he lived, God passed him over. He heard the day's news from his sons, not from the Lord.
- Silence. He was not a man God could use against Jeroboam's evil, so the special mission went to a man from Judah.
- Seduction. Unable to speak for God, he worked to draw the man of God into his own position — approval by association.
- Sitting. The man of God's ruin began with a pause under an oak that God never ordered. No collapse happens in one step.
And their father said to them, Which way went he? for his sons had seen which way the man of God went, who came from Judah.
The question is small: a father asks his sons which road the man of God took. It begins the chain that ends with a faithful messenger dead on the road. Why did a prophet of God need his sons to tell him what God had just done in his own town?
His sons had to tell him what God had done and which road the man took. One writer ties that to where the old prophet had settled.
At Bethel there was an old prophet. He was not living there by the Lord's command, for the Lord was not using him in His service. He was living there with his family. Perhaps — probably, even — he had nothing to do with Jeroboam's false religion. But his presence alone at Bethel gave approval to what was going on there. The prophet from Judah understood this. Whether he wanted to be or not, the old prophet was associated with the evil. The result was that he, a prophet, did not share the secret of God's thoughts. He learns them from others — from his sons, who repeat the words of the Lord to him. God shows neither Himself nor His thoughts to a servant found in an association that dishonours Him.
The sons could point to the road because the man of God had not gone far. He had stopped and sat down.
He was not told to sit under an oak. That was the beginning of it. That was his first failure, and no failure — no ruin — happens in one step. There is always a departure from the word of the Lord that exposes us to the power of the devil. It is not first, I repeat, Satan's power. It is first our own failure, our own sin, our own disobedience.
Another writer asks what the man of God should have felt about the place he had just condemned.
He and his sons followed the man of God and found him sitting under an oak tree. Now that he was away from Bethel, it seems he thought he could sit back and enjoy the experience in which he had been faithful to God. What a mistake! If he had a proper horror of the evil he prophesied against, would he not have wanted to get far away from that scene?
Commentators differ on why the old prophet went after him. One finds self-interest behind the chase.
This old prophet becomes an instrument of ruin for the ruin of the Lord's witness. What was his interest in acting against him? It was this: if the man of God would listen to him, it would be like a divine approval of his position at Bethel.
Another asks for a fairer hearing of the old man.
Let us be reasonable in our criticism of the old prophet at this point. He probably knew nothing of God's strict command. The Lord's witness must not eat or drink in Bethel. What is likely is that he longed for time with a man who feared God... But why had he not long before turned his back on Bethel? Separation from evil is vital for the growth of spiritual life.
Whatever the motive, the next voice came from a prophet, not a king.
But notice what follows. "Now an old prophet lived in Bethel." Beware of old prophets! This old prophet followed the man of God and said to him, "Come home with me and eat bread." This was the devil in a new shape. What the word of a king had failed to do, the word of a prophet might accomplish. It was a trick of Satan, and the man of God was clearly not ready for it.
The man of God already had all he needed to come through this meeting safely.
What should have kept the man of God from falling into this trap? His own words give the answer. He says, "So I was charged by the word of the LORD: eat no bread, drink no water, and do not return by the way that you came." This, then, was his protection against every effort to draw him into a false association: unswerving obedience to the word of God. On this scene one has truly said, "Whenever God has made His will known to us, we must not let any later influence at all call it in question. That holds even if the influence takes the form of the word of God... In every case our part is to obey what He has said."
- Which way — the old prophet's first move is to find the road the messenger took. The whole disaster begins with a route, not a doctrine.
- Why he asked — his sons had to tell him what God had done. God does not share His thoughts with a servant who settles where His honour is insulted.
- Where he was found — the chase worked because the man of God had stopped under an oak. Ruin never arrives in a single step.
- Whose voice — commentators differ on the old man's motive: self-interest or loneliness. They agree on the danger. It wore a prophet's dress and won where a king's word had failed.
- What would have kept him — the word already given. No later message, even one claiming to be from God, may overturn what God has plainly said.
And he said to his sons, Saddle me the ass. So they saddled him the ass; and he rode thereon,
The old prophet of Bethel has heard from his sons what happened in town that day. Now he calls for his donkey and rides after the stranger from Judah. It is a small verse about travel, yet a lie and a broken commission both start with this old man's decision to ride out.
Many godly people had left the northern kingdom to escape Jeroboam's idol worship. This prophet had not. One writer draws attention to the word chosen to describe him:
The man who led the man of God out of Judah astray was himself a prophet of the LORD. The Holy Spirit calls him "an old prophet" (1 Kings 13:11). The adjective catches our attention. In God's family, "fathers" are believers at the highest stage of growth; old men, in the spiritual sense, suggest decay. Large numbers of devout people had left everything in the Northern Kingdom to get away from Jeroboam's idolatries. They went south into Judah and Jerusalem, where there was still some regard for the law of the LORD (2 Chron. 11:13-17). But the old prophet stayed in Bethel!
Notice how he learns what happened: his sons tell him.
Whether he wanted to be or not, the old prophet was linked with the evil. The result was that he, a prophet, did not share the secret of God's thoughts. He learns them from others — from his sons, who repeat the words of the Lord to him. God shows neither Himself nor His thoughts to a servant who stays tied to what dishonours Him. He gave this prophet no revelation. He used someone else, while this man stayed barren for the work of the Lord. How could he prophesy against Bethel when he was used to living there?
Commentators differ over what drove him onto the road. Some see a troubled conscience looking for company in failure:
The old prophet could not bear the fact, for if this was the case with the man of God, where was the old prophet? And it is not said that he was a false prophet; the outcome of the story seems to show the opposite. But the old prophet was determined to test the man of God and see whether he could make him as unfaithful as himself. That would have been a miserable comfort to a bad conscience.
Others judge the same ride more kindly:
Let us be fair in our criticism of the old prophet at this point. He probably knew nothing of God's strict command that His witness must not eat or drink in Bethel. What is likely is that he longed for time with a man who feared God. Perhaps he also wanted recognition from a man who had acted so wonderfully in front of the king and his people. But why had he not long before turned his back on Bethel?
The man of God had already refused a king's invitation to eat.
"Now an old prophet lived in Bethel." Beware of old prophets! This old prophet followed the man of God and said to him, "Come home with me and eat bread." This was the devil in a new shape. What the word of a king had failed to do, the word of a prophet might achieve. It was a trick of Satan, and the man of God clearly was not ready for it.
The rider catches up with a man who has stopped moving. Commentators mark that pause as the first crack, before the lie:
He was not told to sit under an oak. That was the beginning of it. That was his first failure, and there is no failure — there is no ruin — that happens in one step. There is always a departure from the word of the Lord which exposes us to the power of the devil... He had been told not to return by the way he came. He was meant to get away as fast as possible. A man who is forbidden to eat and drink was not meant to sit under a tree.
The scene puts an older man and a younger man on the same road, and both are answerable.
It is possible for an older believer to become a spent force; shall we not guard against this? Advanced years do not necessarily mean more spiritual growth. A long record of useful service can breed self-satisfaction, and then our words of advice may carry weight with younger believers which they do not deserve... Respect for age and experience is good; but our only authority for action in any area of life is the Word of God. "A brother advised me," or "an angel spoke to me," will not sound well at the judgement seat of Christ.
- Place — He lived in Bethel, the very place God had just condemned, while others had moved away from it.
- Poverty — Staying there left him barren. God used someone else, and he heard the news from his sons.
- Pursuit — Saddling the donkey took effort. Writers differ on what he wanted: company, recognition, or someone as unfaithful as himself.
- Prophet's dress — The next temptation wears a prophet's clothes. A king's offer had already failed.
- Pause — The chase caught a man who had already stopped under an oak. Ruin never comes in one step.
and went after the man of God, and found him sitting under a terebinth; and he said to him, Art thou the man of God that camest from Judah? And he said, I am.
The man of God from Judah has just done everything right: he spoke against the altar at Bethel and set off home by a different road. Then a stranger catches up with him — and the whole chapter turns on that meeting.
Before the old prophet says a word, something has already gone wrong. Notice where he is found — not on the road, but resting beside it.
He was not told to sit under an oak. There was the beginning of it. That was his first failure, and no failure — no ruin — ever happens in one step. There is always a departure from the word of the Lord which exposes us to the power of the devil, and it is not first, I repeat, Satan's power. It is first our own failure, our own sin, our own disobedience. He had been told not to return by the same way he came, so he was meant to get away as fast as possible. A man forbidden to eat and drink was not meant to sit under a tree.
The stop looks harmless. Commentators see it as the moment his guard came down.
When he stood face to face with an angry king, he stood calmly in faith; when the persuasive voice of a religious "friend" reached his ears, he failed badly. Had he gone straight home, all might have been well, but his seducer found him "sitting under an oak." The Christian life is a race. While our souls are in motion we are safe; but even a short pause may undo us.
The text does not just say "a prophet." Writers take that extra word as a clue to his spiritual state. They read it against what other godly people in the north were doing.
In 1 John 2 the family of God is divided into three grades: "babes," "young men," and "fathers." "Fathers" are believers at the highest stage of spiritual growth. Old men, in the spiritual sense, suggest decay… Like Lot before him, he lived in bad surroundings, and "bad company ruins good morals" (1 Cor. 15:33). Large numbers of godly people had given up everything in the Northern Kingdom to get away from Jeroboam's idolatry. They went south into Judah and Jerusalem, where there was still some regard for the law of Jehovah (2 Chron. 11:13-17). But the old prophet stayed in Bethel!
He is a real prophet. Yet he hears the news from his sons, not from God. Writers tie that silence to where he lives.
Whether he wanted to be or not, the old prophet was tied to the evil around him. The result was that he, a prophet, was not in the secret of God's thoughts. He learns them from others — from his sons, who repeat the Lord's words to him. God shows neither Himself nor His thoughts to a servant found in an association that dishonours Him. God gave him no revelation and used another man, while this prophet stayed barren for the Lord's work. How could he prophesy against Bethel when he was used to living there?
The chase is not simple kindness. The old prophet has something to gain if the visitor eats at his table.
What was his interest in acting this way against him? It was this: if the man of God listened to him, it would look like God's approval of his position at Bethel… The old prophet gives no thought to the consequences for his brother. He is drawing him into a course of unfaithfulness. A false position makes us selfish and dishonest.
The old prophet's opening words are not an attack. He greets the traveller as God's servant.
He said to him, "Are you the man of God who came from Judah?" Nothing could seem a more complete recognition of his mission and of his work from God. He was a servant of the Most High God who had, no doubt, come to show them the right way. There was great respect.
The pressure changes shape here. Everything about this invitation makes a refusal look rude.
It is a severe test, for this old man could plead not only that he was a brother and a prophet, but also the experience of age. On top of that, he shows generous hospitality to a tired and hungry brother. "Come home with me," he says, "and eat bread." Above all, he claims that an angel had given him "the word of the LORD" to bring the man of God back to his house.
- Stop. The failure starts before the lie does. He was told to leave fast; instead he sat down. No ruin happens in one step.
- Silence. The prophet living at Bethel got no message from God. He learned the day's news from his sons. God does not confide in a servant settled in what dishonours Him.
- Search. The old prophet rides out for a reason. If the faithful man eats at his table, his own place in Bethel looks approved.
- Squeeze. The new pressure wears a brother's face, an elder's years, and a hungry man's meal. It even claims a word from an angel. That is harder to resist than a king's threat.
- Speed. While the soul keeps moving it is safe. The danger comes right after a faithful stand, at the moment we pause.
And he said to him, Come home with me, and eat bread.
The man of God from Judah has just denounced the altar at Bethel and turned down the king's offer of a meal. Now an old prophet who lives in Bethel catches up with him and makes the same offer again.
The words are nearly the king's own. One writer counts this as a third test, of a different kind.
Now in verse 15 you have the third test, by the old prophet, who repeats the king's invitation almost in the same words. "Come home with me and eat bread." This is the test of religious associations. Here is a prophet, a man who shines in the religious sphere. Taken at face value, he speaks on God's behalf. Yet he lives at ease surrounded by all this idolatry, and we never hear that he said one word of protest. … That is a test which comes to us again and again. "It is for a good cause," they say; "it is religious." Beware of worldly, compromising religion.
Nothing about the offer sounds wrong. That is what makes it hard to refuse.
A brother prophet had made his home in the very place of the evil that the man of God was sent to denounce. The Lord had told him to have no association with that evil by eating or drinking there. He was truly a prophet, and he knew about the evil. But he lived in a wrong association. So he could not witness against it, and he even put his approval on it. This "brother" and "prophet" is the one who tests the obedience of the man of God. It is a severe test. This old man could plead that he was a brother and a prophet, and he could also plead the experience of age. On top of that, he shows generous hospitality to a tired and hungry brother. "Come home," he says, "with me, and eat bread."
There is a clue the man of God could have read.
The old prophet had clearly been set aside as unfit for the Master's use. He was living in the very city where the Lord had business to be done, but he was passed over. The Lord had gone down to Judah to get a witness against the altar at Bethel. Yet one of His own saints was living on the very spot. How could "the man of God" think that the Lord could use the prophet of Bethel as His vessel? He had already passed him by.
The same offer comes again, this time from someone dressed as a prophet.
But notice what follows. "Now there dwelt an old prophet in Bethel." Beware of old prophets! This old prophet followed the man of God and said to him, "Come home with me and eat bread." This was the devil in a new shape. What the word of a king had failed to do, the word of a prophet might accomplish. It was a trick of Satan that the man of God was plainly unprepared for. The prophet's clothing deceived him and threw him completely off his guard.
The old prophet found him sitting under an oak. One writer traces the fall back to that detail.
He was not told to sit under an oak. That was the start of it. That was his first failure, and there is no failure — there is no ruin — that happens in one step. There is always a turning aside from the word of the Lord. That leaves us open to the power of the devil. It is not the devil's power first, I repeat. It is first our own failure, our own sin, our own disobedience. … A man who is forbidden to eat and drink was not meant to be sitting under a tree.
One thing would have kept him safe.
So his safeguard against every attempt to draw him into a false association was steady obedience to the word of God. About this scene someone has truly said: "Whenever God has made His will known to us, we are not to allow any later influence at all to call it in question. That holds even if the later influence takes the form of the word of God … In every case our part is to obey what He has said."
- Same offer. The old prophet repeats the king's invitation almost word for word. The temptation has not changed — only the voice carrying it.
- New voice. What a king could not do, a prophet might. The enemy changed clothes, and the prophet's costume threw the man of God off guard.
- Pleasant packaging. Brotherhood, age and kindness all pull the same way. Saying no looks rude instead of obedient.
- Missed clue. God had passed over the prophet in Bethel and brought a witness from Judah. A man God has set aside is not the man to follow.
- One safeguard. Once God has made His will known, no later voice may reopen the question — not even a voice claiming to bring God's word.
And he said, I cannot return with thee, nor go in with thee; neither will I eat bread nor drink water with thee in this place.
The man of God from Judah had just denounced Jeroboam's altar at Bethel and turned down the king's reward. Now an old prophet from that same town catches up with him and invites him home. His answer here is a plain no — the last steady moment before everything unravels.
His words were not personal preference. Commentators trace them back to why God sent him to Bethel, and to the orders God gave him before he arrived.
God sent a man of God out of Judah to Bethel to condemn the wickedness of Jeroboam… He learnt that this evil was so abhorrent to God that the day was soon coming when God would deal with it in judgment. God gave him a clear warning: he must not weaken his testimony by associating with the evil. He was to deliver his message, give his sign, and then depart. On no account was he to eat bread, or drink water, at Bethel. He was not to go back by the same road he came. He was to have no fellowship with the false position of these people. They claimed to be God's people, yet they were disobeying the word of the LORD.
Not eating and not drinking was not a side detail attached to the sermon. It was the sermon, acted out.
The old prophet — though he truly was one — put up with the evil around him. The testimony of God, on the contrary, declared that the evil must not be put up with. This was the testimony God entrusted to the other prophet. His refusal to eat or drink in that place was the moral and personal testimony of his own faithfulness, of his conviction, and of his obedience.
The word of a king had already failed to move him. The next invitation comes wrapped in religion.
"Now there lived an old prophet in Bethel." Beware of old prophets! This old prophet followed the man of God and said to him, "Come home with me and eat bread." This was the devil in a new shape. What the word of a king had failed to do, the word of a prophet might do. It was a trick of Satan, and the man of God was not ready for it.
Compare this refusal with the one he gave Jeroboam, and the wording has softened. Mackintosh notices it word by word. His wording for verse 9 comes from an older translation.
But in his reply to the prophet there is a clear decline in energy, boldness and decision. He says, "I may not return with you, or go in with you." And when he gives his reason, instead of the forceful word "charged," we have the weak expression, "It was said to me."
This man really was a prophet. So why refuse his table? The answer lies in where he had settled, and in what God did not tell him.
At Bethel there was an old prophet. He was not living there by command of the Lord, for the Lord was not using him in His service. He was simply living there with his family… Whether he wanted it or not, the old prophet was tied to the evil. The result was that he, a prophet, was not let in on the thoughts of God. He learns them from others — from his sons who repeat the words of the Lord to him. God shows neither Himself nor His thoughts to a servant who is tied to an association that dishonours Him. God gave him no revelation. He used another man instead, while this prophet stayed fruitless for the work of the Lord.
The man of God states his reason out loud in the next breath. Commentators say that reason was all the protection he needed. It even covered a new message claiming to come from God.
His own word gives the answer. He confesses that the word of the LORD had charged him: eat no bread, drink no water, and do not go back by the same road you came. So his safeguard against every effort to draw him into a false association was unswerving obedience to the word of God. Someone has rightly said of this scene: "Once God has made His will known to us, we must not let any later influence call it into question. That holds true even when the influence takes the form of the word of God… In every case our part is to obey what He has said."
- The word given. God told him to speak, give the sign, and leave. No bread, no water, no going back the same road, and no fellowship with people who claim God's name while disobeying His word.
- The word lived. Turning down the meal was not rudeness. It made his faithfulness, conviction and obedience visible.
- The word tested. What a king's word could not buy, a prophet's invitation almost won — the same pressure, dressed in religion.
- The word weakening. "I will not" becomes "I may not." "Charged me" becomes "it was said to me." The softening shows in his words before it shows in his steps.
- The word obeyed. Obedience is the safeguard — even when a later message claims God's authority, our part is to do what He has already said.
For it was said to me by the word of Jehovah, Thou shalt eat no bread nor drink water there, nor turn again to go by the way that thou wentest.
Israel's king had turned the nation's worship to a golden calf at Bethel, and God sent a man from Judah to condemn it. Here that messenger refuses a meal from an older prophet by repeating his orders: no bread, no water, no going home the same way.
These three bans were not random rules. They gave practical shape to a testimony against the evil at Bethel.
God directed him by sign and word to witness against the evil. God gave him a special warning: he must not weaken his testimony by associating with the evil. He was to deliver his message, give his sign, and then depart. On no account was he to eat bread, or drink water, at Bethel, nor was he to turn again by the same way that he came. He was to have no fellowship with the false position of those people. They claimed to be the people of God, yet they were walking in disobedience to the word of the LORD.
A shared meal sounds like a small thing to forbid. But eating together says something.
Here was Jehovah slighted. Where? Among the Gentiles? That would be no wonder. Among His own people — direct apostasy from the Lord God of Israel. Here was a man who went out in the strength of the word of the Lord. So complete separation was required. In every age, people have rightly seen eating and drinking as the sign of fellowship.
Compare how he answered the king in verse 9 with how he answers the prophet here. The words still say no. The force behind them has faded. (Older translations render verse 9 "charged," where the ESV has "commanded.")
But in his reply to the prophet, there is clear decline in energy, boldness and decision. He says, "I may not return with you, or go in with you." Then he gives his reason. Instead of the forceful word "charged," we have the feeble expression, "It was said to me."
Saying no to the meal was not an add-on to his errand. It was his errand, carried in his own conduct.
In any case the word of God was a binding command: he was neither to eat nor to drink there. He knew it, and he remembered it. But there seemed to be another testimony, and with it a motive for ignoring the Lord's command… In fact, by going back with the old prophet, the prophet from Judah destroyed the power of his own testimony. The old prophet — although he really was one — put up with the evil around him. God's testimony, on the other hand, declared that the evil must not be put up with… His refusal to eat or drink in that place was the moral and personal testimony of his own faithfulness, his conviction, and his obedience. God did not take back His word when the prophet disobeyed it.
The invitation was not simple kindness. A man living at Bethel had something to gain if God's messenger would sit at his table.
This old prophet becomes the instrument that ruins the Lord's witness (vv. 11-19). What was his interest in acting this way against him? It was this: if the man of God would listen to him, it would be like a divine sanction of his position at Bethel.
He had the answer in his own mouth in this verse. His knowledge did not fail. His hold on it did.
What, we may ask, should have kept the man of God from falling into this trap? His own words give the answer… Clearly, then, his safeguard was unswerving obedience to the word of God. That is what kept him from every effort to draw him into a false association. Someone has rightly said of this scene, "When God has made His will known to us, we are not to allow any later influence to call it in question. That holds even if the influence takes the form of the word of God… In every case our part is to obey what He has said."
The spirit of obedience is the great moral safeguard against every scheme and every trap of the enemy. The enemy may shift his ground. He may change his tactics. He may use different agents. But obedience to the plain and simple Word of God keeps the soul from all his wicked schemes and crafty devices.
- Word given. The ban on bread, water and the old road meant one thing. He was to have no fellowship with people who claim God's name but disobey His word.
- Word enacted. Sharing a meal has always been the sign of fellowship. So the refusal was itself the message, preached by his conduct and not just his mouth.
- Word softened. To the king it was a command; to the prophet it becomes "it was said to me." The wording drops before the man does.
- Word replaced. The invitation had a motive. A man in a false position wanted God's messenger to approve it by sitting at his table.
- Word kept. No later voice may reopen what God has settled — not even a voice that claims to speak for God. Steady obedience is what no scheme of the enemy can get past.
And he said to him, I am a prophet also as thou art; and an angel spoke to me by the word of Jehovah saying, Bring him back with thee into thy house, that he may eat bread and drink water. He lied unto him.
The old prophet of Bethel has chased down a man who has just refused a king's invitation. He now makes the same offer with better credentials — a fellow prophet, an angel, and a word from the LORD — and the verse ends by calling it a lie.
One writer lists what the old man could offer before he ever mentioned an angel.
This "brother" and "prophet" is the one who tests the obedience of the man of God. It is a severe test. The old man could claim that he was a brother and a prophet, and he could claim the experience of age as well. On top of that, he offers generous hospitality to a tired and hungry brother. "Come home," he says, "with me, and eat bread." Above all he claims that an angel had given him "the word of the LORD," telling him to bring the man of God back to his house.
Refusing him would have looked bad from every angle.
To refuse such an appeal would look like an insult to a fellow prophet. It would also look like disrespect for old age, and like indifference to a brother's kindness that was so ready to offer hospitality. Above all, it would look like ignoring a direct word from the LORD given by an angel.
One writer imagines the reply that never came.
If the Word of his Lord had been living in him, he would have said at once: "If ten thousand prophets and ten thousand angels were to say, 'Bring him back,' I would count them all liars and messengers of the devil, sent to lure me away from the holy, happy path of obedience." That would have been a wonderful reply. It would have the same heavenly ring as these glowing words of the apostle: "But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed."
Those closing words are the apostle's, from Galatians 1:8.
The lie rests on a wrong idea about God — that He changes His orders after He has given them.
So he pretends that he has a fresh message from God. What was the man of God thinking? Does God say a thing and then unsay it? If He did, we would have no standard at all and no certainty, and what would become of the poor children if such a thing were possible? I know that unbelief says it all the time, and tries to make the Bible contradict itself. But those who do so are guilty, and so the old prophet was guilty of lying — "he lied to him."
One writer passes on this counsel:
Whenever God has made His will known to us, we are not to let any later influence call it into question — even if that influence takes the form of the word of God. If we were morally nearer to the Lord, we would feel that the only true and right position is to follow what He told us at first.
Commentators differ on how deliberate the lie was. Some call it flatly a deliberate lie; another allows that the old man may have been deceived himself — "He did not see an angel that came from heaven. It may have been an angel from the pit." What most agree on is the setting.
Do we wonder that the prophet lied? Where he lived is explanation enough. No one could live in Bethel without his whole spiritual tone sinking.
There was also a motive: pulling another man down levels the ground. The old prophet "was determined to try the man of God and see whether he could not make him as unfaithful as himself, for that is what would have been a miserable salve to a bad conscience."
One writer hears the same line from Christians today.
And yet this is what unfaithful Christians tell us, to justify their bad way of living in their own eyes. Everyone, they say, understands the Word differently. "I am a prophet also!" But no — thank God, His will can be understood in only one way. And who can understand it except the one who has separated from evil in obedience to the Word?
- Test: The severe test came from a fellow prophet, not from a king. Religious credentials made the invitation hard to refuse.
- Credentials: He offered brotherhood, age, kindness and an angel. Every credential was real except the message.
- Standard: God does not say and unsay. A later word that cancels His plain word is a lie, whoever carries it and however heavenly the messenger.
- Answer: Count ten thousand prophets and ten thousand angels liars before you doubt one clear command. The apostle passed the same verdict on any angel who preaches another gospel.
- Warning: Living where the evil is lowers a man's whole spiritual tone. The excuse "I am a prophet also" still serves people who want their way of living justified.
Then he went back with him, and ate bread in his house, and drank water.
The man of God from Judah had already said no twice. He refused King Jeroboam's invitation, and then an old prophet who met him on the road. This verse records the moment he said yes. How does a man who stands firm against a king give way to a fellow servant?
The king's invitation had no power over him. A different appeal did.
By appealing to brotherly love the old prophet succeeds where the king's offer had failed. The old prophet was a godly and respectable man. Why should the man of God not believe what he said? But however godly he might be, should a man's word have more weight than the word of God? The age and authority of this fellow prophet trap the prophet from Judah, and so does his sympathy for him. Let us ask ourselves what part these ties play in our religious life when obedience to the Word is at stake.
Going back was not his first mistake. The old prophet found him sitting under an oak, when his orders were to leave and not return by the way he came.
He was not told to sit under an oak. There was the beginning of it. There was his first failure, and there is no failure — there is no ruin — that takes place at one step. A departure from the word of the Lord always comes first, and that is what exposes us to the power of the devil. It is not first, I repeat, Satan's power. It is first our own failure, our own sin, our own disobedience... A man told not to eat or drink was not meant to sit under a tree.
Open evil could not move him. Something that looked good could.
He is safe from temptation when it comes in the form of evil. He falls when temptation comes as apparent good. He honours a brother's voice, standing and reputation above the word of God. He disobeys God and treats his brother's lie as true.
The old man was not simply being hospitable. He had something to gain from the visit.
The unfaithful old prophet badly wanted one thing. He wanted a man whom God was using for testimony — a man whose testimony he himself believed — to approve his unfaithfulness by associating with it. On the surface he seemed to honour the testimony of God and the man who carried it. But by going back with the old prophet, the prophet from Judah destroyed the power of his own testimony.
A second message claimed to cancel his orders. A moment's thought would have shown how unlikely that was.
Oh, why did he listen! A few moments' thought would have been enough to put him on his guard. Does God usually fail to see the end from the beginning? Does He then have to cancel His instructions before His work is finished? If God gave him his first instructions directly, would He now fail to tell him directly? Would He send further instructions through someone who had no part in the matter? But it was easy and pleasant to give in. He did so, and disobeyed.
He could still recite the command. Repeating it was not the same as keeping it.
What, we may ask, should have kept the man of God from falling into this snare? His own word gives the answer, for he confesses, "For it was said to me by the word of the LORD, 'You shall neither eat bread nor drink water there, nor return by the way that you came.'" So his safeguard against every effort to draw him into a false association was unswerving obedience to the word of God. In reference to this scene one has truly said, "Whenever God has made His will known to us, we must not let any later influence call it in question. That holds even when the influence takes the form of the word of God… In every case our part is to obey what He has said."
Readers expect the liar to be struck down. The chapter goes the other way.
If the man of God was false to God, God would still be true to the man of God. He would be true in a most painful way, and, mark it, beloved friends, in a most righteous way. But it is a righteousness according to God. In our folly we would have thought, "Surely the old prophet is the man that is going to die for this." Not so — it was the man of God. For when those who ought to know best fail, God chastises them most.
- Sitting — The collapse began before the meal, when a man ordered to leave sat down under an oak instead.
- Listening — A new message that cancels a clear command should raise one question: why would God send it through a stranger?
- Eating — Going back to share a meal put his approval on the man and the place his testimony stood against.
- Losing — His testimony lost its power the moment his obedience did.
- Learning — One thing guards against every plea, however kind or religious: holding to what God has already said.
And it came to pass as they sat at the table, that the word of Jehovah came to the prophet that brought him back;
The man of God from Judah has just done the one thing God forbade: he turned back and ate in the old prophet's house. And now, mid-meal, God speaks again — not to him, but to the man who lied him into that chair.
The timing is the point. God lets the meal begin before the sentence falls. One writer reads this as discipline for a believer, not judgment on an enemy:
God is judging according to everyone's work. That is, He is disciplining His people now. Judgment at the house of God has begun. And so it is here. The judgment on Jeroboam and his priests is delayed; the judgment of this man of God shall be immediate. He shall now be judged by the Lord, so that he may not be condemned with the world, or with Jeroboam, later on. The word alights upon him. It falls in judgment on him as he sits at the table of the old prophet, eating and drinking — for he was eating and drinking condemnation on himself.
The strangest detail in the verse is the channel. The same mouth that invented the angel now carries a real message from God:
But the man of God stepped off the path of obedience. Then the very man whom Satan had used to draw him off became the mouthpiece of the Lord, to announce the terrible consequence in his ears. He lied when Satan used him. He spoke truth when God used him. The erring man of God was killed by a lion because he disobeyed the word of the Lord. Yes — he stepped off the narrow path of obedience into the wide field of his own will, and there he was killed.
Was the old prophet a fake, then? One writer says the story points the other way, and names the motive behind the lie:
It is not said that he was a false prophet, and the outcome of the story would rather seem to show the contrary. But the old prophet was determined to test the man of God and see whether he could make him as unfaithful as himself. That would have been a miserable comfort to a bad conscience. Nothing troubles Christians who are not walking with God like the sight of any who are.
Nothing here lets the old prophet off. One writer reads his part in verse 20 as his own punishment: he must say out loud the condemnation of a sin he shares.
God chastises the old prophet severely for his lie. He becomes God's instrument to pronounce, against his will, the condemnation of his brother who had trusted his word. God forces him to judge in another the evil he had committed himself.
The lesson runs in both directions, and it is pointed at anyone who lets another person's voice override God's:
As to the man of God, he has to learn that if he values the word of his brother more than the word of God, the very one who drew him into disobedience will be the instrument in God's hand for exposing his sin.
Readers instinctively expect the liar to be struck down. The text goes the other way, and one writer says the instinct itself needs correcting:
If the man of God was false to God, God would be true to the man of God — and true in a most painful way. And notice, dear friends, it was entirely right. Yet in our foolishness we would have thought, "Surely the old prophet is the one who is going to die for this." Not so — it is the man of God. For it is those who ought to know best who, if they fail, God chastises most.
The announcement in verses 20–22 only names damage already done. By going back, his message and his life had stopped agreeing:
There his testimony was broken — his sword completely broken in his hand. He was called not merely to a word but to deeds. People will care little for your words if you do not show by your actions that you feel the truth you want to press on them.
One safeguard would have kept him out of the snare. It holds even when the pressure comes dressed as a fresh message from God:
What should have kept the man of God from falling into this snare? His own words give the answer. He admits that the word of the LORD had charged him to eat no bread, drink no water, and not return by the way he came. So his safeguard against every effort to draw him into a false association was unswerving obedience to the word of God. Someone has truly said: "Whenever God has made His will known to us, we must not let any later influence call it into question — even if that influence takes the form of the word of God… In every case our part is to obey what He has said."
- Word given. The man of God had a plain command. That command was his only protection, and no later voice could reopen it.
- Word faked. The old prophet's lie came dressed as a message from God, told by a man who wanted him as unfaithful as himself.
- Word returns. At the table God speaks again, and He uses the liar's own mouth: he lied when Satan used him, he spoke truth when God used him.
- Word judges. The sentence falls on the messenger first, not the deceiver, because God chastises most those who ought to know best.
- Word spares. The judgment is God disciplining His own now, so that they are not condemned with the world later.
and he cried to the man of God that came from Judah, saying, Thus saith Jehovah Forasmuch as thou hast disobeyed the word of Jehovah, and hast not kept the commandment that Jehovah thy God commanded thee,
The man of God from Judah had refused a king's table and a king's reward. Then he sat down to eat with a fellow prophet, in the town God had sent him to condemn. Mid-meal, God's word arrives — spoken aloud by the man who lied to get him there.
The charge rests on a command he knew and remembered. His failure was not ignorance. A second voice simply gave him a reason to set the first word aside.
The word of God was clear: he was neither to eat nor to drink there. He knew it, and he remembered it. But there seemed to be another message, a reason to set the Lord's command aside. God did not take back His word when the prophet disobeyed it. This also teaches us a lesson. Whenever God has made His will known to us, we must not let any later influence call it into question — not even an influence that comes in the form of the word of God. If we were morally nearer to the Lord, we would feel that the only true and right position is to follow what He told us at first.
The old prophet's good standing was part of the trap.
By appealing to brotherly love, the old prophet succeeds where the king's offer had failed. The old prophet was a pious and respectable man. Why should not the man of God believe what he said? But however pious he might be, should a man's word carry more weight than the word of God? The prophet from Judah is trapped by the age and authority of his brother prophet and by his sympathy for him. Let us ask ourselves seriously. What part do these ties play in our own religious life when we face the question of obedience to the Word?
No messenger outranks a word God has already given. One writer supplies the answer the man of God never gave.
If the word of his Lord had been living in him, he would have said at once: "If ten thousand prophets and ten thousand angels told me to go back, I would count them all liars. I would call them agents of the devil, sent to lure me off the holy, happy path of obedience." That would have been a wonderful reply. It would have the same heavenly ring as the apostle's glowing words. He wrote: "But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed."
The voice that announced the judgment was the voice that had caused the sin. That one arrangement punished both men at once.
God punishes the old prophet justly: He makes him expose his own double-dealing by pronouncing judgment on the man of God. The man of God has his own lesson to learn. If he values his brother's word above the word of God, then the very person who drew him into disobedience becomes God's instrument to expose his sin.
Our instinct says the liar deserved the heavier punishment. One writer explains why it fell the other way.
If the man of God was false to God, God would be true to the man of God — true in a most painful way. And note, dear friends, it was entirely righteous. It is a righteousness that matches God. In our foolishness we would have thought, "Surely the old prophet is the one who is going to die for this." Not so, but the man of God. For it is those who ought to know best who, if they fail, God chastens most.
The judgment had a limit.
It is not that his spirit did not go to the Lord. We are sure it did. But his body still did not reach the tomb of his fathers. The Lord did deal with him, and dealt with the body so that his spirit might be saved in the day of the Lord.
The chastening is not God's last word on these two men.
So it comes about that three hundred and fifty years later, Josiah carries out the word of the Lord given by the man of God. He burns the bones of the false prophets. But he spares the grave of the man of God who came from Judah, and the grave of the old prophet of Bethel. Through their unfaithfulness the people of God may come under His chastening. But through the faithfulness of God they will not share in the judgment that overtakes the world.
- Known — The command was plain, and he remembered it. His sin was not confusion. He let a later voice cancel God's first word.
- Kind — Threats and rewards failed. Warmth, age and office succeeded. The softest appeal was the deadliest.
- Claimed — Ten thousand prophets, or even an angel, cannot reverse what God has already said.
- Exposed — God made the deceiver announce the sentence. That punished the liar and showed the listener where his real authority lay.
- Chastened — The stroke fell hardest on the man who knew most. It touched his body, not his spirit. Centuries later his grave was still spared.
but camest back, and hast eaten bread and drunk water in the place of which he said to thee, Eat no bread and drink no water; thy carcase shall not come to the sepulchre of thy fathers.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And it came to pass, after he had eaten bread, and after he had drunk, that he saddled the ass for him, for the prophet that he had brought back;
The man of God has eaten the meal God forbade, and the sentence has already been spoken over the table. Now the old prophet saddles a donkey for his guest and sends him off, and the calm of the scene raises a hard question: why did God deal so sharply with His own servant?
The old prophet's last act toward his guest is a kindness. One commentator notices what he never does.
At least we might expect the old prophet to apologise for lying, but there is no mention of this. But after giving his solemn message to the man of God, he saddled the donkey for him, to send him on his way (v.23).
God did not send another messenger with the sentence. He used the man who had told the lie.
But the man of God stepped off the path of obedience. Then the very man whom Satan had used to draw him off became the mouthpiece of the LORD to announce the terrible consequence in his ears. He lied when Satan used him. He spoke truth when God used him. He stepped off the narrow path of obedience into the wide field of his own will, and a lion killed him there.
The danger was not where it looked. In front of the king he was untouchable. On a quiet road home, after a friendly meal, he was not.
God's path for the prophet who went down from Judah to Israel was a clearly marked one... It was a clear path, and it looked dangerous. The king of Israel reached out his hand to strike him. But he was protected, and the king's hand shrivelled into helplessness. Only the word of the prophet could restore it. No power of the king could harm him. Nothing could hurt him. But then he left God's path of obedience to follow his own will. He listened to the old prophet and went to eat and drink with him. A lion met him and killed him. There is a lion when you leave God's path.
The severity looks uneven. Jeroboam the king and the prophet who lied both walk away, while the faithful messenger dies. One writer points to the light this man had already been given.
The LORD had given this man of God great light about the evil of Bethel, His hatred of it, and the judgment that was coming on it. God had put great honour on him by using him as a witness against that evil. God had plainly warned him against being entangled in a false association. Despite light, privilege and warning, he let himself be drawn into a false association. So, despite all his former faithfulness and boldness, his work as a witness for God ends here on earth. It is no small matter to disregard the word of God and sin against the light.
Another writer sees the same dealing of God with Christians at Corinth.
There was no such severity towards either Jeroboam or the old prophet. It is a blessed thing to be in intimate relationship with God by grace; but it is a solemn thing if we dishonour His holy name. In Corinth in Paul's day there were probably people far more wicked than any in the Assembly. Yet God laid some in the Assembly low with sickness, and some He took in death. Strange as it may seem, they were fit for heaven but they were not fit for Corinth!
The sentence fell on his body and his burial, not on his standing with God.
This does not mean his spirit did not go to the Lord. We are sure it did. But still, his body did not come to the tomb of his fathers. The Lord did deal with him, and He dealt with the body so that his spirit might be saved in the day of the Lord.
Even the lion's restraint carries the same message.
The judgment of the world is held back; the discipline of the saints is going on... The altar was torn apart, as we saw, and the ashes poured out. Now the lion is not allowed to touch the body of the man of God, or to lay its deadly paw on the donkey that had carried him. His body is kept for honour at the end, though for now his life was forfeit to the righteous judgment or holy discipline of God.
- The word given. God gave this man clear instructions, and obeying them was his one safeguard.
- The word doubted. He listened to the old prophet instead, and a fellow servant's voice proved more dangerous than a hostile king's hand.
- The word enforced. God put the sentence in the mouth of the very man who had deceived him.
- The word fulfilled. The donkey is saddled, the road looks safe, and a lion waits just off God's path.
- The word and grace. God dealt with his body, his spirit went to the Lord, and even the lion was held back — discipline for a saint, not the judgment of the world.
and he departed. And a lion met him by the way and slew him; and his corpse was cast in the way, and the ass stood by it; the lion also stood by the corpse.
A prophet had just carried God's message against the altar at Bethel and refused the king's rewards. Then, on the road home, an old prophet talked him into breaking the one instruction God had given him. Verse 24 records what happened next: a lion met him on the road and killed him — and then did nothing more. Why did judgment fall on the messenger and not on the idol-worshipping king he had rebuked? And why did the lion stop where it did?
The lion appears at the moment the prophet steps off God's road. One writer contrasts the two halves of his journey:
God's path for the prophet who went down from Judah to Israel was a clearly marked one... It was a clear path, and it looked like a dangerous one, as when the king of Israel reached out his hand to strike him. But God protected him, and the king's hand shrivelled up, helpless... No power of the king could touch him. Nothing could hurt him. But, ah, when he left God's path of obedience to go his own way, and listened to the old prophet, and went to eat and drink with him, a lion met him and killed him. There is a lion when you leave God's path.
The same point is put in terms of will: he "stepped off the narrow path of obedience into the wide field of his own will, and there he was slain" — C. H. Mackintosh.
Before the lion appeared, something else had already died. His refusal to eat or drink at Bethel was not a private rule. It was the visible half of his message.
By going back with the old prophet, the prophet from Judah destroyed the power of his own testimony. The old prophet — though he really was a prophet — put up with the evil around him. God's testimony said the opposite: this evil must not be tolerated... his refusal to eat or drink in that place was the moral and personal testimony of his own faithfulness, his conviction, and his obedience.
Another writer adds what the broken witness cost: "there his testimony was broken — his sword broken in his hand. He was called not to a word only, but to deeds. Men will care little for your word if you do not show by your deeds that you feel that word" — William Kelly.
Most readers expect the old prophet to be the one struck down. One writer answers that expectation:
If the man of God was false to God, God would be true to the man of God — and true in a most painful way. And note, my friends, it was entirely right. But this is righteousness as God measures it. In our folly we would have thought, "Surely the old prophet is the man who is going to die for this." Not so — it was the man of God. For it is those who ought to know best, if they fail, that God chastises most.
Another writer weighs what he already knew: "Despite light, privilege, and warning, he allowed himself to be drawn into a false association. The result: despite all his earlier faithfulness and boldness, his career as a witness for God is closed on earth" — Hamilton Smith.
What the lion does not do matters as much as what it does.
The Holy Spirit notes that the lion did not harm the donkey, and did not eat the body. He even let people passing by look at what he had done without attacking them. What a lesson is here! The animal obeyed the commission God gave it, and did not go beyond it in a single detail. It is humbling to think that the lowliest of God's creatures can obey their Creator better than man, made in His image!
The scene left one conclusion: "Lions do not usually behave like this... there, in front of everyone, it was clear that the hand of God was in it, according to the word of God" — William Kelly.
The sentence spoken against him touched his burial place, not his soul.
It is not that his spirit did not go to the Lord. We are sure it did. Still, his body was not buried in the tomb of his fathers. The Lord did deal with him, and He dealt with the body so that his spirit might be saved in the day of the Lord.
Centuries later that line showed itself. When Josiah burned the bones of the false prophets, he spared this grave. One writer draws the lesson: "through their unfaithfulness, the people of God may come under His chastening. But through the faithfulness of God they will not share in the judgment that overtakes the world" — Hamilton Smith.
- Path. Nothing could touch him while he kept God's road. The danger began where the obedience ended.
- Testimony. The witness broke at the old prophet's table. The lion only made public what disobedience had already done.
- Light. God chastens hardest those who know best. The messenger fell, not the old prophet he listened to.
- Commission. The lion killed and then stopped. It left a scene no one could explain away — an animal obeying God more closely than the man did.
- Mercy. God judged the body, not the man. Josiah later spared his grave: chastening is not condemnation.
And behold, men passed by, and saw the corpse cast in the way and the lion standing by the corpse; and they came and told it in the city where the old prophet dwelt.
Travellers came upon a scene no one could explain away: a dead body in the road, and the lion that killed it standing beside it. They carried the news back to the city. Commentators take that public setting as the point: God dealt with His disobedient servant where everyone could see.
Lions do not stand guard over a kill they have not eaten. That is what makes this scene evidence.
What a testimony! It is not so that lions usually behave. It was in itself a wonder. The body of the man of God lay there, the donkey beside it, the lion on the other side, all perfectly peaceful. The work was done. God was just in it, and accomplished what He pleased. But the lion had no mission to do more. There in front of everyone it was evident that the hand of God was there, according to the word of God.
The lion killed the man, and then stopped. One writer draws a humbling comparison from that restraint.
The Holy Spirit notes that the lion did not harm the donkey. He did not devour the body either. He even allowed passers-by to watch what he had done without attacking them. What a lesson is here! The animal obeyed the divine commission, and did not exceed it in any detail. It is humbling to reflect that the lowliest of God's creatures can be more obedient to their Creator than man, made in His image!
Another writer sets the lion's obedience beside the prophet's earlier faithfulness, so that both serve the same word:
It would have been the nature of the lion to kill the donkey as well as its rider, and to devour the body — but he acted just as much under divine commission in the death of the man of God as the man of God himself had acted when he pronounced judgment on the altar.
The man of God had already survived a king's attempt to seize him. What undid him was leaving the route God had marked out.
God's path for the prophet who went down from Judah to Israel was clearly marked. He was to go down, to bear witness against the king of Israel, not to eat or drink, and to return to the place he came from. It was a clear path, and it looked dangerous, as when the king of Israel reached out his hand to strike him. But God kept him safe, and the king's hand shrivelled into helplessness. Only the word of the prophet could restore it. No power of the king could attack him; nothing could hurt him. But then he left God's path of obedience for himself. He listened to the old prophet and went to eat and drink with him. A lion met him and killed him. There is a lion when you leave God's path.
The untouched body carries a further meaning. One writer sets God's dealing with His own beside His judgment of the world.
The judgment of the world is delayed; the discipline of the saints is going forward. So it is here. Yes, and more. There was a present pledge of the future judgment of the world, and there shall be now a present pledge of the future salvation of the saint. The altar was torn apart, as we saw, and the ashes poured out. And so now the lion is not allowed to touch the body of the man of God, or to lay his deadly paw on the donkey that had carried him. His body is kept for final honour, though for the present his life was forfeit to the righteous judgment or holy discipline of God.
The report went to the city where the old prophet lived — the man who had led him off the path.
The serpent, disguised as an angel of light, had seduced the man of God. Now he finds a lion on his path. The extraordinary circumstances of his death force everyone to recognise the divine intervention. The lion is not permitted to do more than fulfil the word of the Lord. The old prophet, the instrument of his brother's fall, is the witness of the consequences of that fall. How this ought to have reached his conscience and filled his soul with sorrow and mourning!
- Path — God marked out a clear route for the man of God. He was safe while he kept to it, and no king could touch him there.
- Departure — A king's threat could not move him, but a brother's voice drew him off the path. A lion was waiting where he left it.
- Limit — The lion killed but did not devour. It spared the donkey and let passers-by watch. It obeyed its commission and went no further.
- Witness — The strange scene made God's hand plain to everyone. The news travelled straight to the man who had misled him.
- Hope — The untouched body speaks of discipline, not ruin. His life was forfeit for now, but his body is kept for final honour.
And the prophet that brought him back from the way heard [of it] and said, It is the man of God who was disobedient to the word of Jehovah; therefore Jehovah has delivered him to the lion, which has torn him and slain him, according to the word of Jehovah which he spoke to him.
The dead body on the road tells its own story, and the old prophet who caused the fall is the one made to read it aloud. The verse names one cause — disobedience to the word of the LORD — and one agent behind the lion: the LORD Himself.
Commentators note that God arranged the scene at the roadside. It was no accident.
What a testimony! Lions do not normally behave like this. It was a wonder in itself. The body of the man of God lay there, the donkey beside it, the lion on the other side, all perfectly peaceful. The work was done. God was just in it, and accomplished what He pleased. But the lion had no mission to do more. There, in front of everyone, it was clear that the hand of God was there, according to the word of God... He knew very well whose body that was.
One writer points out how exactly the animal kept to its orders.
The Holy Spirit notes that the lion did not harm the donkey. It did not eat the body either. And it let people passing by see what it had done without attacking them. What a lesson is here! The animal obeyed the divine commission, and did not go beyond it in any detail. It is humbling to think that the lowliest of God's creatures can obey their Creator better than man, who was made in His image!
He had stood up to a king's threats and refused a king's rewards. What broke him came dressed as something good.
He is proof against temptation when it comes in the form of evil, and he falls when tempted by apparent good. The voice of a brother, his standing and reputation, are honoured above the word of God. He disobeys God and gives credit to a lie in his brother... He triumphed over the opposition of the world outside, and then a brother within seduced him into unfaithfulness.
His safety had never been in his courage. It was in staying on the road God marked out for him.
It was a clear path, apparently a dangerous one, as when the king of Israel reached out his hand to strike him. But he was protected... No power of the king could touch him, and nothing could hurt him. But he left God's path of obedience for his own. He listened to the old prophet, and went to eat and drink with him. A lion met him and killed him. There is a lion when you leave God's path.
The man who had lied him off course now speaks the verdict. Writers see God's hand in that arrangement, cutting both ways.
God punishes the old prophet justly. He forces him to expose his own double-dealing by pronouncing judgment on the man of God. As for the man of God, he has to learn this lesson. If he values his brother's word more than the word of God, then the very one who drew him into disobedience will be the instrument in God's hand to expose his sin.
Commentators separate what God did to his body from where his spirit went.
It is not that his spirit did not go to the Lord. We are sure it did; but his body did not come to the tomb of his fathers. The Lord did deal with him, and dealt with the body so that his spirit might be saved in the day of the Lord.
Another writer sees the untouched body as a sign of honour still to come.
The judgment of the world is delayed; the discipline of the saints is going on... the lion is not allowed to touch the body of the man of God, nor lay its deadly paw on the donkey that had carried him. His body is kept for final honour, though for now his life was forfeit to the righteous judgment, or holy discipline, of God.
One writer turns the scene into a question for believers today.
Outright disobedience to the Word is an infinitely serious thing. How many Christian lives are made up of such acts of disobedience! Christians often ask why they meet a lion in the way without being able to answer the question. Should they not first ask themselves this? Have they been willing to submit to the word of God when it has shown them His will plainly?
- Word given. God told him not to eat, not to drink, not to go back the same way. That word kept him safe when the king reached out his hand to strike him.
- Word left. He resisted threats and bribes. Then he gave way to a fellow prophet, putting a brother's voice above what God had said.
- Word fulfilled. The lion killed but did not eat. It stood beside the body, so everyone could see God's hand, not an accident of the road.
- Word announced. The man who had deceived him was made to state the verdict, exposing his own duplicity in the act of pronouncing it.
- Word remembered. God disciplined the body, kept it for final honour, and saved the spirit for the day of the Lord.
And he spoke to his sons saying, Saddle me the ass; and they saddled it.
The old prophet lied to a younger messenger and turned him back from his road. Now he tells his sons to saddle the donkey again — this time to fetch the body of the man his lie killed.
The man who caused the fall now rides out to see what his lie produced.
The old prophet, the instrument of his fellow prophet's fall, is the witness of the consequences of that fall. How this ought to have reached his conscience and filled his soul with sorrow and mourning! His work is reduced to nothing and judged, but God uses this to bring him back; he himself is not lost… Whatever our unfaithfulness may be, God will not leave Himself without a witness. The weakest and most guilty among us may become its bearer, if he repents.
A lion had killed the man on the road. What lay there was no ordinary accident.
That is not how lions usually behave. It was in itself a wonder. The body of the man of God lay there, the donkey beside it, the lion on the other side, all perfectly peaceful. The work was done. God was just in it, and He accomplished what He pleased. But the lion had no mission to do more. In front of everyone, the hand of God was plain, according to the word of God.
The lion killed the man but did not touch his body. One writer reads that restraint as a pledge about the man's future.
The judgment of the world is delayed; the discipline of the saints is going on. So it is here. And more. There was a present pledge of the future judgment of the world, and there is now a present pledge of the future salvation of the saint. The altar was torn apart, as we saw, and the ashes poured out. Now the lion is not allowed to touch the body of the man of God, or to lay his deadly paw on the donkey that had carried him. God keeps his body for final honour, though for now his life was forfeit to His righteous judgment or holy discipline.
One command would have kept the man of God on the road home, and he knew it.
What should have kept the man of God from falling into this trap? His own words give the answer. He admits, "It was told to me by the word of the LORD, 'You shall neither eat bread nor drink water there, nor return by the way that you came.'" So his safeguard against every effort to draw him into a false association was unswerving obedience to the word of God. About this scene someone has truly said, "Whenever God has made His will known to us, we must not allow any later influence at all to call it in question. That holds even if the influence takes the form of the word of God… In every case our part is to obey what He has said."
This story carries a warning for older and younger believers alike.
It is possible for an older believer to become a spent force; should we not guard against this? Advanced years do not always mean increased spirituality… The old prophet seemed to be a man God could no longer use. He trapped a younger man and ruined him. The younger men of our time must not overlook this danger. Respect for age and experience is good; but our only authority for action in any area of life is the Word of God. "A brother advised me," or "an angel spoke to me," will not sound well at the judgement seat of Christ.
God's discipline was not His last word about this man. A later king of Judah, Josiah, would prove it.
Still, we are allowed to see this. God in His holiness may have to discipline His people for their failure and unfaithfulness. Even so, He does not unjustly forget any work or labour of love shown toward His Name. So, three hundred and fifty years after these events, Josiah carries out the word of the Lord given through the man of God. He burns the bones of the false prophets. But he spares the tomb of the man of God who came from Judah, and of the old prophet of Bethel.
- Saddled. The donkey that carried a man back into disobedience now carries his body home. The man who caused the fall must go and look at it.
- Guarded. A lion that kills and then stands still is no accident. God left the scene in the open, so everyone could see His hand acting according to His word.
- Disciplined. The untouched body shows the difference between judging the world and correcting a believer. His life was forfeit; his body was kept for honour.
- Word. One line of Scripture was his whole protection. He already knew it and had already quoted it. No brother, no angel and no number of years could outrank it.
- Remembered. Centuries later Josiah spared both graves. God disciplines failure, but He does not forget faithful service.
And he went and found his corpse cast in the way, and the ass and the lion standing by the corpse the lion had not eaten the corpse, nor torn the ass.
A man of God defied a king, then disobeyed God once, and a lion killed him on the road. Now the lion guards the body and eats nothing, and we are left asking why God stopped it halfway.
The point of the picture is what does not happen. A hungry predator has just made a kill, yet leaves the body and the donkey untouched:
What a testimony! Lions do not usually behave like this. It was in itself a wonder. The body of the man of God lay there, the donkey beside it, the lion on the other side, all perfectly peaceful. The work was done. God was just in it, and He accomplished what He pleased. But the lion had no mission to do more. In front of everyone it was clear that the hand of God was there, according to the word of God.
God gave the lion a task, and it stopped right there. That restraint shames man:
The Holy Spirit notes the facts: the lion did not harm the donkey, and he did not devour the body. He also let passers-by see what he had done without attacking them. What a lesson is here! The animal obeyed the divine commission, and did not go beyond it in any detail. It is humbling to reflect that the lowliest of God's creatures can be more obedient to their Creator than man made in His image!
The killing itself was not the animal's instinct running loose:
It would have been the lion's nature to kill the donkey as well as its rider, and to devour the body. But in the death of the man of God, the lion acted under divine commission — just as much as the man of God himself had acted when he pronounced judgment on the altar.
The two animals standing over the body picture the man lying between them:
What a sight he saw! The lion and the donkey stood there like guards over the dead body! Surely there is a parable here. The dead messenger of the LORD was a strange mix of the lion and the donkey. He was so bold with the king, but so foolish with the old prophet!
Why spare the body at all? The untouched body points forward:
The judgment of the world is delayed; the discipline of the saints is going on. There was a present pledge of the future judgment of the world, and there shall be now a present pledge of the future salvation of the saint. The altar was torn apart, as we saw, and the ashes poured out. And so now the lion is not allowed to touch the body of the man of God, or to lay his deadly paw on the donkey that had carried him. His body is reserved for final honour, though his life was for the present forfeit to the righteous judgment or holy discipline of God.
The man who lied him off the road is the same man who sat at the roadside and identified the body. God used both his mouths:
But the man of God stepped off the path of obedience. Then the very man whom Satan had used to draw him off became the mouthpiece of the LORD. He announced the terrible consequence in his ears. He lied when Satan used him. He spoke truth when God used him. The erring man of God was killed by a lion because he disobeyed the word of the Lord.
His fall looks small next to Jeroboam's idolatry, yet he had been told plainly what to do and had already stood firm under threat and bribery:
He had light, privilege, and warning. Even so, he let himself be drawn into a false association. So despite all his former faithfulness and boldness, his career as a witness for God is closed on earth. It is no small matter to disregard the word of God and sin against the light.
The old prophet asked to be buried in the same grave, because he was certain the word spoken against the altar would still come true:
The old prophet told his sons that when he died they should bury him in the same grave beside the man of God. He knew that the prophecy of the man of God against the altar of Jeroboam would come true. God's testimony remained true despite the failure of the messenger.
- Commission — The lion killed, then stopped. It did the work given and no more. So the scene reads as God's act, not a wild animal's appetite.
- Contrast — A beast stayed inside its orders. A prophet, made in God's image, stepped outside his. The creature's obedience is the rebuke.
- Cause — He set another prophet's word above God's word, after God had already given him light and warning.
- Care — The untouched body is mercy inside the blow. God disciplines His own now, and delays the judgment of the world.
- Continuity — The messenger fell; the message did not. The word against the altar still came true.
And the prophet took up the corpse of the man of God, and laid it upon the ass, and brought it back; and the old prophet came into the city, to mourn and to bury him.
A lion has killed the man of God from Judah for disobeying God's word. The man who now lifts his body onto the donkey is the one whose lie sent him there, and the burial that follows asks what such severe discipline means.
The judgment spoken over him touched his body. One writer marks where it stopped.
It is not that his spirit did not go to the Lord. We are sure it did, but his body did not come to the tomb of his fathers. The Lord did deal with him, and dealt with the body so that his spirit might be saved in the day of the Lord.
God made the old prophet see, handle and carry the result of his own deception.
The old prophet, the instrument of his brother's fall, is the witness of the consequences of that fall. How this ought to have reached his conscience and filled his soul with sorrow and mourning! His work is reduced to nothing and judged, but God uses this to bring him back; he himself is not lost.
Another writer turns to the man of God's own responsibility.
The man of God has to learn this. If he values the word of his brother more than the word of God, then the very one who drew him into disobedience will be the instrument in God's hand for exposing his sin.
A man who had just lied could be suspected of faking his grief. One writer reads it differently.
There was in him what was of God as well as what was of nature or the flesh… He had lived carelessly as a believer. He had settled down in an unclean place… Yet he seems to have been a righteous man, like Lot, though living in a Sodom. His lamentation over the man of God was genuine, and it was that of one saint over another… He also charges his sons to bury him, when he dies, in the same tomb. It was the tomb where he was now laying with reverence the remains of the one he calls his brother, the man of God.
Note the grave and the size of the funeral.
Taking the body back to Bethel, he buried it in a tomb prepared for himself. The old prophet and his sons were apparently the only mourners. Any relatives of the man of God would likely know nothing of what became of him.
One writer reads a sign in what the lion did not do.
The judgment of the world is held back; the discipline of the saints is going forward… The altar was torn open, as we saw, and the ashes poured out. And now the lion is not allowed to touch the body of the man of God, or lay his deadly paw on the donkey that had carried him. His body is kept for final honour. For the present, though, his life was forfeit to the righteous judgment or holy discipline of God.
One writer points to what happened at Bethel long afterwards.
Yet we can see this. If God in His holiness must chasten His people for their failure and unfaithfulness, He is still not unrighteous; He does not forget any work or labour of love shown toward His Name. So, three hundred and fifty years later, Josiah carries out the word of the Lord spoken by the man of God. He burns the bones of the false prophets. But he spares the tomb of the man of God who came from Judah and of the old prophet of Bethel. Through their unfaithfulness, the people of God may come under His chastening. But through the faithfulness of God they will not share in the judgment that overtakes the world.
Commentators differ on how much hope the story holds. Rossier sees God bringing the old prophet back. On the man of God, one writer is blunt.
Despite light, privilege, and warning, he allowed himself to be drawn into a false association. The result was that, for all his earlier faithfulness and boldness, his career as a witness for God is closed on earth. It is no small matter to disregard the word of God and sin against the light.
- Cause — He valued the word of a brother above the word of God.
- Consequence — The man who misled him had to carry his body home. God made the deceiver handle the result of his own lie.
- Limit — The discipline reached his body, not his spirit. He missed his family tomb, but the Lord dealt with him so that his spirit would be saved.
- Pledge — God would not let the lion touch his body. It was kept for honour later.
- Proof — Three and a half centuries later Josiah burned Bethel's bones and spared this grave. God's people may come under His chastening, yet they do not share the world's judgment.
And he laid his corpse in his own sepulchre; and they mourned over him [saying], Alas, my brother!
A funeral at Bethel closes the story: the old prophet lays the man he ruined in his own grave. Were his tears real, and is God finished with a servant He has had to discipline?
The burial spot was not a family plot or a public tomb. The mourners were few as well.
He took up the corpse and laid it on a donkey. He showed unusual courage in the presence of the lion, but the lion did not interfere. Taking the body back to Bethel, he buried it in a tomb prepared for himself. The old prophet and his sons were apparently the only mourners. Likely any relatives of the man of God would know nothing of what became of him.
The same man had led him into the fall that ended here. Yet one writer finds real grief in that cry, not theatre.
There was in him what was of God, as well as what was of nature or the flesh… He had lived carelessly as a saint. He had made his home in an unclean place. He was too much like an old professing believer who needed reviving. Satan uses him — as we have seen, sad to tell it — to corrupt his younger brother, a freshly-anointed vessel of the Spirit. But still, he seems to have been a "righteous man," like Lot, though living in a Sodom. His lamentation over the man of God was genuine. It was that of one saint over another, as genuine as David's lamentation over Jonathan. It was the sorrow of a saint of God.
The man who caused the fall had to look at the result. One writer sees God using that sight to bring him back.
The old prophet, the instrument of his brother's fall, is the witness of the consequences of that fall. How this ought to have reached his conscience and filled his soul with sorrow and mourning! His work is reduced to nothing and judged. But God uses this to bring him back. He himself is not lost… His soul is restored before he dies. He seals his brother's testimony against the altar of Bethel with his own. He extends that testimony to all the high places in the cities of Samaria. Whatever our unfaithfulness may be, God will not leave Himself without a witness. The weakest and most guilty among us may become its bearer, if he repents.
Mourning a man you helped to ruin is a solemn sight. The danger it exposes is not scandalous sin but settled ease with disobedience.
How true and how full of instruction, but how solemn! Solemn to think of the man of God — but, oh, what can we say of the old prophet? What can we say of those who tempt faithful men of God to turn from the word of the Lord? They snatch a miserable moment's comfort for themselves. It gives cover to their own life of habitual disobedience. They live at habitual ease in the very place where the man of God was forbidden to eat bread or drink water. Nothing so hardens the heart, and nothing so destroys the conscience, as habitual disobedience to the word of the Lord. It is not gross sin, but religious indifference. … Beware of those who use their age, their position, or anything else to weaken God's children in their obedience to the word of the Lord.
The grave has a sequel. What happened to it centuries later shows how God treats a servant He has had to discipline.
Yet we may see this. God, in His holiness, may have to chasten His people for their failure and unfaithfulness. But He will not unrighteously forget any work or labour of love shown toward His Name. So, three hundred and fifty years later, Josiah carries out the word of the Lord given by the man of God. He burns the bones of the false prophets. But he spares the tomb of the man of God who came from Judah, and the tomb of the old prophet of Bethel. Through their unfaithfulness the people of God may come under His chastening. But through God's faithfulness they will not share in the judgment that overtakes the world.
- Grave — The old prophet buried the man of God in the tomb he had prepared for himself, with only his own sons as mourners.
- Grief — The lament was real sorrow, one saint over another. The man still had what was of God in him, though he lived in an unclean place.
- Guilt — The man who caused the fall had to watch the result. Commentators see his soul restored before he died.
- Guard — What ruined him was not gross sin but habitual ease with disobedience. Such men weaken the faithful by trading on age and position.
- Grace — Centuries later Josiah spared that one tomb. God chastens His people, but He does not forget their labour of love.
And it came to pass after he had buried him, that he spoke to his sons saying, When I am dead, bury me in the sepulchre in which the man of God is buried; lay my bones beside his bones.
The man who asked for this grave had lured its first occupant to his death. His last recorded words are about bones, and they work as both a confession and a testimony.
What ruined this man was not scandal. One commentator points to something quieter, and to the warning it carries.
Nothing hardens the heart like habitual disobedience to the word of the Lord. Nothing destroys the conscience like it either. And this disobedience is not in open, shocking sins, but in religious indifference. That was what marked the old prophet. He consoled himself that he had respect for the Lord — respect for the man of God. Then he was put to the test. He was Satan's instrument, and he brought out the weakness of the very vessel that God had made so strong against king Jeroboam… Beware of such men! Beware of those who use their age or their position, or anything else, to weaken the children of God in their obedience to the word of the Lord.
His grief at the grave was not a show. Another writer weighs the mixture of God and flesh in him.
There was in him that which was of God, as well as that which was of nature or the flesh… He had lived carelessly as a saint. He had taken up his dwelling in an unclean place. He was too much like someone who had long professed faith and needed fresh life. Satan uses him, sad to tell it, to corrupt his younger brother, a freshly-anointed vessel of the Spirit. But still, he seems to have been a "righteous man," like Lot, though living in a Sodom. His lamentation over the man of God was genuine, and it was that of one saint over another.
His order ties his own bones to the man he had helped to ruin. One commentator reads this as a soul brought back before death.
God reduces his work to nothing and judges it. But God uses this to bring him back, and he himself is not lost… His soul is restored before he dies. He seals his brother's testimony against the altar of Bethel with his own, and he extends that testimony to all the high places in the cities of Samaria. Whatever our unfaithfulness may be, God will not leave Himself without a witness. The weakest, the most guilty among us may become its bearer, if he repents. In his death the old prophet testifies to his association with the man of God.
The next verse gives his reason: he was sure the prophecy would come true.
The old prophet told his sons to bury him, when he died, in the same grave beside the man of God (v.31). He knew that the prophecy of the man of God against the altar of Jeroboam would come true (v.32). God's testimony remained true despite the failure of the messenger.
This grave mattered again centuries later. One writer shows what King Josiah did with it.
We are still allowed to see this. God, in His holiness, may have to chasten His people for their failure and unfaithfulness. Yet He is not so unjust as to forget any work or labour of love shown toward His Name. So, three hundred and fifty years after these events, Josiah carries out the word of the Lord given by the man of God. He burns the bones of the false prophets. But he spares the tomb of the man of God who came from Judah, and the tomb of the old prophet of Bethel. Through their unfaithfulness, the people of God may come under His chastening. But through the faithfulness of God they will not share in the judgment that overtakes the world.
That restraint also sets the pattern for how we treat the memory of servants of God whose record is mixed.
Whatever this man's unfaithfulness had been, Josiah recognises what he had done for God. He also spares the bones of the prophet of Samaria. That prophet caused his fall, yet he had humbled himself for his error. This is how every true Christian heart acts. It acknowledges what men of God in past times did to serve Him. It respects their work, even though failures blemished it and robbed it of its power or spoiled its result.
- Bones of a failure. This man lived in the place God had condemned. Quiet disobedience, not scandal, made him Satan's instrument against a faithful brother.
- Bones mourned. His grief was real. One writer sees a righteous man in a corrupt place, weeping over another saint.
- Bones confessed. Asking to lie beside the man he misled reversed his whole course. His soul was restored before he died, and God found a witness in the guiltiest man in the story.
- Bones staked on the word. He was certain the prophecy would come true. The messenger failed; the message did not.
- Bones spared. Three and a half centuries later Josiah's fire passed that one tomb by. Chastening is real. Yet God does not forget work done for His Name, and neither should we when a servant's record is blemished.
For the word that he cried by the word of Jehovah against the altar in Bethel, and against all the houses of the high places that are in the cities of Samaria, shall certainly come to pass.
The old prophet of Bethel had just buried the man of God whose fall he had caused. Now he gives his sons a dying order: lay my bones beside his. His reason is not sentiment. He is sure that the message spoken against Jeroboam's altar will come true, and that it reaches far past Bethel.
Everything in the chapter turns on one repeated phrase: "the word of the LORD," which older translations render "the word of Jehovah." Three men stand in three different places toward it:
The central figure of 1 Kings 13 is the "man of God out of Judah." All the instruction of the chapter turns on the words "the word of Jehovah," repeated ten times. To Jeroboam the word of Jehovah meant nothing; self-will was his rule of life. To the old prophet who lived in Bethel, the word of Jehovah meant something, but it had lost its power over his soul. To the man of God the word of Jehovah meant everything — until the fatal moment when he let himself be drawn away from it.
In verse 32 that word takes hold of the old prophet again.
The old prophet had to watch what his own work produced. That ruin became God's way of reaching him:
The old prophet, the instrument of his brother's fall, is the witness of the consequences of that fall… His work is reduced to nothing and judged, but God uses this to bring him back; he himself is not lost… His soul is restored before he dies. He seals his brother's testimony against the altar of Bethel with his own, extending that testimony to all the high places in the cities of Samaria. Whatever our unfaithfulness may be, God will not leave Himself without a witness. The weakest and most guilty among us may become its bearer, if he repents.
He asked to share the grave out of real grief. Good and bad were both in this man, and the burial shows which side had the last word:
There was in him what was of God, as well as what was of nature or the flesh. But he was now old… He had lived carelessly as a saint. He had made his home in an unclean place… But still, he seems to have been a "righteous man," like Lot, though living in a Sodom. His grief over the man of God was genuine, the sorrow of one saint over another… And he charges his sons to bury him, when he dies, in the same tomb. It was the tomb where he was now reverently laying the remains of the one he calls his "brother," the man of God.
The old prophet widens the message from one altar to a whole region. The name he uses raises a question, because Omri built the city of Samaria only later. One writer separates two uses of the name:
The word Samaria appears in a speech of the old prophet (1 Kings 13:32), years before Omri built the city. Omri named it Samaria after Shemer, the owner of the hill (1 Kings 16:24)… In 1 Kings 13:32 Samaria is used, it would seem, as the name of a district — "cities of Samaria" — like Heshbon and her cities (Joshua 13:17), or "cities of Hebron" (2 Sam. 2:3). But in 1 Kings 16 it appears for the first time as the name of the city built by Omri on the hill he bought from Shemer, its former owner.
Centuries later the word came true. One writer notes what happened to the shared grave:
Even so, we are allowed to see this: God in His holiness may have to discipline His people for their failure and unfaithfulness. Yet He is not unrighteous to forget any work or labour of love shown toward His Name. So it comes about that three hundred and fifty years after these events, Josiah carries out the word of the Lord given through the man of God. He burns the bones of the false prophets. But he spares the tomb of the man of God who came from Judah, and of the old prophet of Bethel. Through their unfaithfulness, the people of God may come under His discipline. But through the faithfulness of God they will not share in the judgment that overtakes the world.
- Word spoken. One phrase measures the whole chapter: "the word of the LORD." Jeroboam ignored it. The old prophet let it lose its hold on him. The man of God obeyed it until one fatal turn.
- Word slighted. The old prophet caused his brother's fall. Then he buried him, and saw his own work reduced to nothing.
- Word repented. God used that ruin to bring him back and restore his soul. God will not leave Himself without a witness, and the most guilty may carry it, if he repents.
- Word widened. His dying words reach past Bethel's altar to the high places in "the cities of Samaria." Here the name marks a district, years before Omri gave it to a city.
- Word fulfilled. Three hundred and fifty years later Josiah burned the false prophets' bones, but spared both graves. God disciplines His people; He does not judge them with the world.
After this thing Jeroboam turned not from his evil way, but made again from all classes of the people priests of the high places whosoever would, he consecrated him, and he became [one] of the priests of the high places.
Jeroboam had just seen God's power at his own altar: his hand withered, and a prophet's prayer for him was answered. Verse 33 tells what he did next: back to the religion he had invented, and a priesthood open to anyone who wanted it.
The king's alarm was real. It went no deeper than his pain:
"Seize him," cried the angry king. But the hand he stretched out withered by God's judgment. "Pray for me," said Jeroboam in alarm. Sadly, the unhappy man had never learned to pray for himself. In this he reminds us of Pharaoh in Exodus 8:8, and Simon the sorcerer in Acts 8:24. He had felt the power of God at work, and it should have led him to repentance. But flesh learns nothing. He felt the consequences of his sin, but not the evil of it.
A man can get an answer to prayer and stay what he was. The verse opens with "after this thing" and reports no change:
He could plead with the prophet, the man of God, and the man of God could plead with the LORD — and an answer came. But it had no effect on his conscience. Nothing good is done unless the conscience is reached in the presence of God.
Jeroboam was not short of evidence:
But no testimony stops the idolatrous career of Jeroboam (vv. 33-34). He sets his heart on the religion he has invented more than on the word of the LORD. Yet that Word cannot fail, and it had told him everything in advance through the prophet Ahijah. Events had proved it true. He had received its blessings, and his soul was no better for them. Now he was about to meet its judgment.
The second half of the verse is the giveaway. Jeroboam set no qualification at all:
"Any who would, he ordained." It was not only Jeroboam's will that was at work, but anybody's will, everybody's will.
That open door had a further cost:
Of course the man who had made his own priesthood, and had ordained anyone who wished to be one (v. 33), could not hold that priesthood in very high esteem. It now answered to the king, and it had become a political tool in his hands.
The offence points to a rule that holds in every age:
All ministry in the house of God, whether in Old or New Testament times, is of divine appointment. Scripture knows nothing of human authority appointing anyone to the ministry. Nor does it know of a ministry a man takes up for himself. None but God can make or appoint a minister of any sort or description. In Old Testament times the LORD appointed Aaron and his sons to the priesthood, and if an outsider dared to meddle with that holy office, he was to be put to death. Even the king himself dared not touch the priest's censer. Uzziah, king of Judah, went into the temple of the LORD to burn incense, and he was a leper to the day of his death (2 Chronicles 26).
Commentators see the same failure repeated today:
God had chosen Aaron and his sons to serve Him as priests. Jeroboam had no access to God's priests, so he "appointed priests from among all the people, who were not of the Levites." Christendom does the same thing. It sets up a "priestly class," often made up of unconverted men (or women!). That sets aside God's principle that every believer is a priest.
The next verse names the outcome:
This glaring sin would bring down God's solemn judgment. It would wipe out the house of Jeroboam from the face of the earth (v. 34). After this Jeroboam became known as the king who made Israel sin (ch. 14:16).
- Warned — a sign came true, his hand withered, a prophet's prayer for him brought an answer. He felt the consequence of his sin, never the evil of it.
- Unmoved — an answered prayer left his conscience untouched. Until God reaches the conscience, nothing good is done.
- Preferred — he set his heart on the religion he had invented, not on the word that had already proved itself true.
- Opened — "any who would" made the priesthood everybody's will, and so a political tool, not a holy office.
- Cut off — one man's convenient arrangement became the sin that destroyed his house. It marked him forever as the king who made Israel sin.
And by this thing there was sin on the house of Jeroboam, even to cut it off and to destroy it from off the face of the earth.
Jeroboam had watched his withered hand healed and heard God's word against his altar at Bethel. He changed nothing — and this verse names the priesthood he invented as the sin that wiped out his family.
"This thing" points back to the verse before. Jeroboam made priests for the high places out of anyone who was willing. One writer puts the weight on two words, "whoever would":
Another thing we learn is that after this Jeroboam did not turn from his evil way. He could beg the prophet, the man of God, and the man of God could beg the LORD — and the LORD answered. Yet it had no effect on his conscience. There is no good done unless the conscience is reached in the presence of God. "Again he made priests for the high places out of the lowest of the people: whoever would, he ordained." It was not only Jeroboam's will that was at work. It was anybody's will, everybody's will.
Jeroboam was not short of evidence. God's word had come to him through the prophet Ahijah, and events had proved it true:
But no testimony stops the idolatrous career of Jeroboam (vv. 33-34). He sets his heart on the religion he has invented, more than on the word of the Lord. And yet that Word cannot fail. It had told him everything beforehand through Ahijah. What happened had proved it true. He had received its blessings, and his soul was no better for it. Now he was about to meet its judgment.
Jeroboam was not cornered. God had made him a promise with a condition attached, and he chose his own plan instead:
In Jeroboam we see the worthlessness and hopelessness of the flesh, however much God favours it. Lifted out of obscurity by the God of Israel and granted rule over ten of the tribes, Jeroboam started his reign with every advantage. The LORD promised to be with him and to build him a sure house if he would pay attention to His commandments and walk in His ways. … When Jeroboam became established in his kingdom, in his desire to make his throne secure, he devised a new religion for his people. The will of God was nothing to him.
The threat to cut off the house and destroy it was no figure of speech. Jeroboam's sons had shared in his sin, and a later king, Baasha, carried out the sentence on the whole family:
Jeroboam's sons, along with their father, had thrown out God's ordained priesthood and had cast them out from serving as priests of the LORD (2 Chronicles 11:14)… Once on the throne, Baasha began to carry out the LORD's judgment on the rest of the house of Jeroboam, just as old Ahijah had said. "And when he reigned, he struck down all the house of Jeroboam. He left to the house of Jeroboam not one that breathed, until he had destroyed it, according to the word of the LORD that He spoke by His servant Ahijah the Shilonite. It was for the sins of Jeroboam that he sinned and that he made Israel to sin."
The damage did not stop with his family. It shaped the whole northern kingdom:
We know the result of Jeroboam's sad beginning. Of the 19 kings who sat on the throne of the northern kingdom, it does not seem that one sought after God. Men murdered many of them and took the throne, and others overthrew those men in turn. In the end "the LORD was very angry with Israel and removed them out of His sight" (2 Kings 17:18), and He handed them over to the Assyrians.
One writer sees the same swap made again in our own day:
He had turned the people away from the LORD's chosen centre. He had also set aside the priesthood God gave to Aaron's family, and had appointed priests of his own choosing. He even acted as a priest himself! (1 Kings 13:33). Christendom has been guilty of all this. It has set up religious centres in abundance. It has rejected God's holy priesthood, which is made up of all believers in the Lord Jesus (1 Peter 2:5), to make room for a crowd of men who know nothing of the grace of God.
- Will — The sin was "whoever would." Not Jeroboam's will only, but anybody's will, standing where God's appointment belonged.
- Warning — God healed his hand, the prophet's word came true, and still he did not turn. Mercy does no good until it reaches the conscience.
- Substitute — God offered him a sure house if he obeyed. He preferred a religion of his own, built to secure his throne.
- Sentence — The threat was no figure of speech. Baasha destroyed the house of Jeroboam and left no one alive, just as Ahijah had said.
- Spread — The sin outlived the sinner. Nineteen kings walked in it, until God removed Israel from His sight.