And Solomon allied himself by marriage with Pharaoh king of Egypt, and took Pharaoh's daughter, and brought her into the city of David, until he had ended building his own house, and the house of Jehovah, and the wall of Jerusalem round about.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Only, the people sacrificed on the high places; for there was no house built to the name of Jehovah, until those days.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And Solomon loved Jehovah, walking in the statutes of David his father; only, he sacrificed and burned incense on the high places.
One verse holds praise and warning together: God says Solomon loved Him, and in the same breath records what he did at the high places. That small word "only" marks the flaw that later ruins his reign and shapes Judah's worship for generations.
The testimony God gives here is genuine, not faint praise. Writers stress that Solomon truly belonged to the Lord, and that his fault sat alongside a real desire to worship:
Yet Solomon was a believer. He loved the Lord and sought to walk in the ways of David, except for his worship in high places. He seems to have thought that, since he wanted to worship the Lord, he should do it in the most prominent places. Gibeon had a great high place, so he went there to offer 1000 burnt offerings (v.4). People today often think the same way: that the most beautiful church is where they ought to worship. In Solomon's case, the Lord bore with this though. He did not approve it, for God did appreciate the desire of Solomon's heart to be a worshiper.
The verse turns on one small word — small on the page, small in Solomon's life, and that is the danger:
We read he "loved the LORD, walking in the statutes of David his father, ONLY he sacrificed and made offerings at the high places." It was good that he loved the Lord, good that he followed the excellent example of his father. But this "ONLY," was a fatal flaw, a weak place in his armour, something that led to disastrous consequences.
High places were raised sites for sacrifice. With no temple built yet, they looked like a reasonable choice. The real problem lay somewhere else:
At the start of Solomon's reign the people sacrificed in high places because the temple was not yet built. This was failure… The tabernacle was there at Gibeon, so it looked like the right place to go, and it was there that God appeared to Solomon in the night. Yet it was still "the great high place." The reason for this implied disapproval is no doubt that the ark was not there. The ark was the symbol of God's presence, and where it stood was the true place of worship.
There was a cost to Israel's shared life too:
In any case, this practice scattered worship in Israel. And so Israel lost the unity of worship, because the altar — among other things — expressed that unity, just as the Lord's Table does for Christians today.
Solomon kept David's statutes, yet he did not reach David's faith:
He loved the Lord. God gave him the task of doing all that was needed to display His glory. But his heart did not rise to the faith that counts on the secret of God's love when that glory is not on display. That faith sees God's love through all the things He still bears with. That faith was David's own strength… Better to be small and despised at the ark than to hold the glory of the kingdom and worship on the high places.
Why did God let this pass for a time? One writer answers, then warns against misusing the answer:
So, even though it may have been a failure, the Lord met it with tender mercy and compassion toward His people. He did so until His own power had set up the visible signs of His worship. After that, going off to the high places at once brought down the Lord's judgment… So the wicked heart turns the mercy of God — His patience in a day of difficulty and trial — into an excuse for sin, when no excuse is possible.
What God bore with in one king hardened into a national habit — and it caught Solomon himself:
Solomon does not follow his father's walk. He turns aside from it and sacrifices to the Lord on the high places. It was a dangerous practice, and it bore appalling fruit when the king let his heart be carried away by foreign women (1 Kings 11:7). From that day on, Judah never banished the sacrifices on the high places, this tradition of Solomon's reign.
- Loved — God's own verdict on Solomon is warm and real. Scripture sets the fault beside that real love, not in place of it.
- Only — one small word marks the weak place in the armour. Good beginnings fall not to open rebellion but to the small thing left unrepaired.
- Altar, not ark — Solomon worshipped where everyone could see. David worshipped at the ark, where only faith could look. That is the gap between them.
- Borne, not blessed — God's patience while no temple stood was mercy for a hard moment, never permission. Treating that patience as approval is how a heart excuses sin.
- Inherited — what one king tolerated, a nation kept. The high places outlived Solomon, drew his own heart away in the end, and Judah never got rid of them.
And the king went to Gibeon to sacrifice there; for that was the great high place a thousand burnt-offerings did Solomon offer up upon that altar.
Solomon began his reign as a worshipper at Gibeon, the great high place, with a thousand burnt offerings on one altar. That raises two questions: why there, and why not Jerusalem, where the ark, the chest that marked God's presence, already stood?
Gibeon was not a random hilltop. The tent of meeting Moses built stood there, and its bronze altar with it. So "the great high place" meant the hill they stood on.
After Saul destroyed Nob, the tabernacle went to Gibeon. It stayed there until Solomon built the house of the LORD. The ark had been brought from Kiriath-jearim, not far from Gibeon, to the tent David had pitched for it in Jerusalem. But the tabernacle stayed at Gibeon, and so did the bronze altar that Bezalel the son of Uri, the son of Hur, had made. The high place at Gibeon means the elevation upon which the tabernacle and the altar stood. God had chosen one central place for worship, the temple, and it was not yet standing. Until it was, worshipping the LORD at the Gibeon high place was not sinful.
Solomon's father was drawn elsewhere. One writer sets the public altar beside the hidden ark, and shows what each one asked of the worshipper.
The ark was what attracted. That is all the more striking, because the ark was not the public link with God that the great altar was. The great altar stood in the court. The great altar was before every eye. The great altar was the place where the offerings were made. By comparison the ark was a little thing, and no one saw it. It stood on purpose behind the veils. It was a matter of faith alone, as far as that could be for an Israelite. The Israelite of faith was sure that the LORD's glory was bound up there most of all. That was what drew king David. Not so much king Solomon.
God did not refuse those offerings. One writer weighs how much the bronze altar could give a worshipper, and how much it could not.
"And so Solomon went up there to the bronze altar before the LORD which was at the tent of meeting, and he offered a thousand burnt offerings upon it." He went up to that altar just as David had brought the ark up to the place he had prepared for it. There all the congregation met God. It was the place of approach to God — not the place where God revealed Himself, but the place where man approached as near as he could to God. Still, God accepts it, for it was good, though it was not the best — not the more excellent way.
Spreading worship over many places cost Israel something the one altar had stood for.
Solomon "sacrificed and made offerings at the high places," and not only at Gibeon, "for that was the great high place," where the bronze altar was still found, with the tabernacle and all its furniture. This practice served to scatter worship in Israel. And so Israel lost the unity of worship. Among other things, the altar expressed that unity, just as the Lord's Table does today for Christians.
One writer sees the same instinct at work today.
He wanted to worship the Lord, and he clearly thought he should do it in the most prominent places. So he went to Gibeon, which had a great high place, and offered 1000 burnt offerings there. People today often think the same way: the most beautiful church is where they ought to worship.
The striking thing is what God did next. He came to the man at the imperfect altar, and the commentators trace that to the affection behind the offerings.
Solomon went to Gibeon, but he loved the Lord, and the Lord always takes account of our affection for Him. There it was that He appeared to him in a dream. In a dream you cannot disguise the true state of your heart. Neither reason nor will holds back what is inside. In a dream the soul lies open before the Lord.
Another writer ties God's visit that night to what Solomon offered on the altar.
He began with this act of worship, and it was that same night that God appeared to Solomon. The Lord drew graciously near to him as the result of the sacrifices on the bronze altar. The burnt offering pictures the perfect devotion and sacrifice of our Lord Jesus Christ, and it is this that brings us near.
- Place. Gibeon held the tabernacle and the bronze altar. Before the temple stood, sacrificing there was not sin.
- Pull. The altar was public; only faith sought the hidden ark. David went to the ark, Solomon to the altar.
- Price. Worship spread over many high places lost the unity that one altar expressed.
- Portion. A thousand offerings brought Solomon as near as man could approach — God owned it as good, though not the best.
- Presence. God still came to the lesser place, because the burnt offering pointed to Christ and He takes account of the love behind it.
In Gibeon Jehovah appeared to Solomon in a dream by night; and God said, Ask what I shall give thee.
God meets Solomon at the start of his reign and tells him to name what he wants. Commentators press two questions here. Why did God appear at a high place instead of at the ark? And why in a dream?
The setting matters. The tabernacle and its bronze altar stood at Gibeon, so Solomon offered his thousand burnt offerings at the right altar.
When Saul destroyed the town of Nob, the tabernacle was moved to Gibeon. It stayed there until Solomon built the house of the LORD. The ark had been brought from Kiriath-jearim to the tent David had pitched for it in Jerusalem. But the tabernacle and the bronze altar that Bezalel had made remained at Gibeon. The high place at Gibeon means the high ground on which the tabernacle and the altar stood. At first that same spot had been a Canaanite place for the worship of idols. The temple was the one place for worship that God had chosen. As long as it was not standing, worship of Jehovah at the Gibeon high place was not sinful. Solomon and all the people with him gathered at Gibeon. They went to the bronze altar and offered a thousand burnt offerings on it. He began with this act of worship, and it was the same night that God appeared to Solomon. The Lord drew near to him graciously as the result of the sacrifices on the bronze altar.
Solomon went to the altar at Gibeon, not to the ark in Jerusalem. His faith fell short of his father's. That makes God's appearing the striking thing.
With his father it was not so. In Gibeon, however, Jehovah appeared. And how great the grace of God! Solomon's faith is set here against his father's deeper and higher faith — yet in Gibeon Jehovah appears! What a God was He!
One writer reads the choice as a plain mistake. Solomon assumed the grandest place must be the right place to worship, "just as people today often think that the most beautiful church is where they ought to worship" (Leslie M. Grant).
Rossier starts with Solomon's love for the Lord, and then with what a dream does to a person.
Solomon went to Gibeon, but he loved the Lord, and the Lord always takes account of our affection for Him. There He appeared to him in a dream. In a dream a person cannot disguise the true state of his heart. Neither reason nor will is there to hold back what is inside. In a dream the soul is laid bare before the Lord. What then were the thoughts held in this young king's heart when God said to him, "Ask what I shall give you"?
This makes Solomon's answer proof rather than performance: "the genuineness of this feeling is all the clearer because he replies to God in a dream" (J. N. Darby).
What Solomon did with the offer matters as much as the offer itself.
God appeared to him in the night with the wonderful message, "Ask what I shall give you." It was as though He placed all His resources at the disposal of faith. The young king prays for wisdom and knowledge so that he may care for the flock committed to him. It was a most remarkable prayer for a man in his position. The Lord shows His pleasure by giving him far more than all he asked or thought.
An open offer shows what a person wants most. Solomon could have named any of the obvious prizes.
What an offer! What a test to this young man! Will he ask for long life, or riches, or success over his enemies? He greatly pleased the Lord. He might have been dazzled by the glory of his position. He might have held great ambitions and asked for things to match.
The invitation was not sealed off in Solomon's night at Gibeon.
What grace this was, but it also searched his innermost soul. And this offer was not made only to Solomon. The One who appeared to Solomon and put this gracious question to him was later on earth, clothed as a servant, yet greater than Solomon in all his glory. He said: "Ask, and it will be given to you." And again He said: "Whatever you ask in my name, this I will do." It is faith's privilege to hear Him speak like this to our hearts and to make use of His great offer.
- Worship first. Solomon began his reign at the altar with burnt offerings, and God drew near that same night as the result.
- Grace stoops. He came to Gibeon, not to the ark. God appeared anyway, though commentators call that a real shortfall in his faith.
- Sleep exposes. A dream strips away reason and will, so the answer God got was the man's true heart, not his managed one.
- God opens everything. "Ask what I shall give you" put all His resources at the disposal of faith. The answer came back larger than the asking.
- The test travels. The same question still searches every reader. The One who asked it later said, "Ask, and it will be given to you."
And Solomon said, Thou hast shewn unto thy servant David my father great loving-kindness, according as he walked before thee in truth, and in righteousness, and in uprightness of heart with thee; and thou hast kept for him this great loving-kindness, that thou hast given him a son who sits upon his throne, as it is this day.
God appears to Solomon and offers him anything he asks for. The first thing the young king says is not a plea for himself, but a memory of how God treated his father.
The offer came at night, while the young king slept. One writer sees meaning in the timing itself:
His sleeping is the very time when the blessed God acts. Sleep is the picture of nature's inactivity and open helplessness. I say open, because although nature is always a weak, helpless thing, sleep expresses this most fully. When nature is silenced and subdued like this, and the man's own power is put aside, God speaks and acts.
Solomon answered while he slept, with no time to arrange his words:
In a dream a person cannot disguise the true state of his heart. Neither his reason nor his will holds back what is really inside him. In a dream the soul is laid bare before the Lord. What, then, were the thoughts held in this young king's heart when God said to him, "Ask what I shall give thee"? What the divine word finds first in this heart is gratitude for the great mercy of the Lord towards David: "Thou hast showed unto thy servant David my father great mercy," and at the same time the high esteem in which he held him because of his walk of truth, of righteousness, and of uprightness, which had proved that David feared the Lord. Next there is thankfulness for the mercy of God towards himself, David's son: "Thou hast kept for him this great kindness, that thou hast given him a son to sit on his throne, as it is this day."
Solomon praises his father's walk. One writer compares the two men, and the way God spoke to each:
A dream is not God's most intimate way of speaking to people. He Himself said so to Aaron and Miriam in Numbers 12:6-8. Yet it seems certain that Solomon never knew God as his father knew Him. He lacked David's deep spiritual experience, never having suffered as he suffered. David's years of affliction gave him a knowledge of God from which we all benefit today as readers of his Psalms.
Solomon takes his own crown as proof that God keeps His word. The promise did not stop with him:
God said to David, "You shall never lack a man to sit on my throne." There was always a man whose birthright it was to sit on David's throne. Each of them was unworthy, but the line of descent continues till Christ came. He is the Man on Whom the Holy Spirit looks. In Him there was, and is, the divine right as well as the human title. He is the Son of God as well as Son of David. Whatever may come between the promise and its fulfilment, He will certainly sit there.
The order of Solomon's reply matters. He names what God has done before he says what he needs:
The young king's answer delighted the heart of God. First, he acknowledged His loving-kindness in giving David a son to sit upon his throne. Then he admitted that he was not equal to the heavy duties now laid on him... "I am but a little child. I do not know how to go out or come in." The spirit of the little child — humble, trusting, and teachable — is fitting in us all.
Rossier sums up what a heart like this looks like:
Such a state of soul promises abundant blessing. It comes down to this: fear the Lord, have the consciousness of His grace, esteem others better than yourself, and count yourself as nothing.
- Night. God spoke while sleep laid Solomon's own strength aside — the moment, as one writer puts it, when nature falls silent and God speaks and acts.
- Mirror. A dream strips away disguise. What Solomon said shows what he really held: gratitude, esteem for his father's walk, and a sense of his own smallness.
- Mercy. Solomon's first thought is not what he lacks. It is what God has already given — great mercy to David, and that same mercy kept for David's son.
- Promise. The son on David's throne is a kept promise. That line runs past Solomon to Christ, who holds both the divine right and the human title.
- Smallness. Thanks came first, then the confession of being a little child, and only then the asking. That order delighted God.
And now, Jehovah my God, thou hast made thy servant king instead of David my father; and I am but a little child I know not to go out and to come in.
Solomon has just come to the throne of Israel, and God offers him a blank cheque in a dream: ask whatever you want. His answer starts with a confession — he credits his crown to God's kindness, and admits he does not know how to carry it.
Solomon speaks about God before he speaks about himself. He starts with God's kindness to his father, then God's kindness to him. One writer traces those steps through to the words of our verse:
What the divine word finds first in this heart is gratitude for the Lord's great mercy towards David. At the same time he held David in high esteem for his walk of truth, righteousness and uprightness. That walk had proved that David feared the Lord. Next there is thankfulness for God's mercy towards himself, David's son. Lastly, there is the awareness of his youth, his ignorance, his inability. Such a state of soul promises abundant blessing. It comes down to this: fear the Lord, be conscious of His grace, value others above yourself, and count yourself as nothing.
"A little child" is not only a figure of speech here. Solomon was young in years, and the size of the job pressed on him:
As stated before, Solomon was a youth when he was anointed king. Eusebius says he was only 12 years old; Josephus gives his age as 15. He was probably not yet 20 when he became king. He felt two things deeply: his own littleness, and the great responsibility of governing so many people.
The same writer adds that the offer was not for Solomon only:
The Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Ask what I shall give you." This offer was not made only to Solomon. The One who appeared to Solomon and put this gracious question to him later walked on earth dressed as a servant, yet greater than Solomon in all his glory. He said, "Ask, and it will be given to you" (Matthew 7:7).
Not knowing how to "go out or come in" is Solomon's way of saying he cannot rule. He tells God so, plainly:
He felt as a little child, not knowing how to go out or come in (v.7). He felt unequal to the task of ruling the great nation Israel, and he confessed this before the Lord. That is a good sign.
God came to Solomon in a dream — a moment when a person is doing nothing and controlling nothing. One writer draws a principle from that setting:
When nature is inactive, the blessed God draws near and speaks. Here we see the same thing in picture: when nature is inactive in God's people, divine thoughts take the place of all that is merely human. Solomon asked for wisdom, and it pleased the Lord that Solomon had asked this. Surely we please Him in what we ask or do only when nature's claims are set aside.
Solomon's self-description is not just a fact about an inexperienced monarch. It describes an attitude the New Testament asks of every believer:
Then he confessed that he was not equal to the heavy responsibilities that now lay on him. The Lord's people were a great people, marked out as His chosen. To guide and direct them rightly in their unique relation to God was beyond his power. "I am but a little child: I do not know how to go out or come in." The spirit of the little child — humble, trusting, and teachable — is fitting in us all. The Lord Jesus lays this down in Matthew 18.
This prayer stands in sharp contrast to Solomon's later years. His humility was real, but he did not keep it.
As the years passed, the childlike simplicity that marked him at the start of his reign faded away. He became self-important and self-willed. Have we not seen something like it in the church of God? The prosperity so graciously granted to Solomon was too much for his slender faith.
- Small before God. Solomon opens by crediting God's mercy to David and to himself — the crown is a kindness received, not a prize won.
- Small in his own eyes. He was probably not yet twenty, and he felt both his littleness and the weight of governing God's people.
- Small enough to say so. He said his weakness out loud to God, and that was the good sign — not the embarrassment.
- Small enough to be filled. Set human ability aside, and God's thoughts take the place of merely human ones. That is what pleased the Lord.
- Stay small. The Lord Jesus asks the same childlike spirit of us all — humble, trusting, teachable. Solomon's later self-importance shows what happens when it fades.
And thy servant is in the midst of thy people which thou hast chosen, a great people, that cannot be numbered nor counted for multitude.
God tells the young king Solomon to ask for whatever he wants. Before he asks, Solomon names two facts that shape his whole prayer: the people are God's, and they are too many to count.
Solomon never calls Israel his own. One writer sees Solomon's whole outlook resting on that:
He did value the people; and he valued the people not because they were his people, but because they were God's people. It makes all the difference now.
Kelly draws out what that changes for the man in charge:
He did not regard the people as his people — his to govern, his to serve God in — but as God's people entrusted to him. This makes the work serious, and it searches the conscience. So he asked for wisdom, and he truly needed it. Had they been his own people, he might have had wisdom enough; but because they were God's people, he needed wisdom from God.
The same distinction applies to anyone trusted with the care of God's people:
I repeat, it is God's flock, not yours. You are not to rule over it as if it belonged to you. If it were your own property, you would have certain rights... When you weigh this properly, it makes a wonderful change in the mind, tone and temper — a change in those who tend the flock, and in those they care for. For then they look to God... Claiming "my flock" or "yours" is the root of endless trouble. It is God's flock, and if the Lord charges someone to shepherd His flock, what a blessed trust!
Solomon sets the size of the nation against his own smallness:
Then he admitted that he was not equal to the heavy responsibilities he now carried. The Lord's people were a great people, marked out as His chosen. To guide and direct them rightly in their unique relation to God was beyond his power. "I am but a little child. I do not know how to go out or come in." The spirit of the little child — humble, trusting and teachable — suits us all.
Another writer reads that same admission as the thing that opens the door to blessing:
Last of all, there is his awareness of his own youth, his ignorance, his inability... Such a state of soul promises abundant blessing. It comes down to this: fear the Lord, be conscious of His grace, esteem others better than yourself, and count yourself as nothing.
Solomon's problem was a matter of numbers: a nation too large to count, and one young king. God answered in the same measure:
Solomon pleaded that Israel was "so great": how could he carry the responsibility of guiding such a nation? Now compare verses 20 and 29 of 1 Kings 4: "Judah and Israel were as many as the sand by the sea"; "God gave Solomon wisdom and understanding beyond measure, and breadth of mind like the sand on the seashore." Wisdom according to the need!
One writer notes what Solomon left out of his prayer, and what it cost him later:
What he asked for was good, but it was not good enough. Wisdom and knowledge are never enough to keep us walking with God. Solomon did not pray that God would keep him from evil in his own life... Did he not realize that he needed more than an understanding heart? He needed a submissive heart, obedient to the Word of God. Only that could have kept him from the evils he fell into.
- Whose — Solomon values Israel not as his own subjects, but as the people God chose. That one fact governs all he asks for.
- Trust — They are God's people entrusted to him. That makes the work serious, searches the conscience, and sends him to God for wisdom.
- Small — He measures a countless nation against himself and calls himself a little child. One writer says such a state of soul promises abundant blessing.
- Measure — The people were as many as the sand by the sea, and God gave breadth of mind like the sand on the seashore — wisdom matched to the need.
- Gap — Wisdom alone did not keep him. One writer notes he never asked for a heart submissive to God's Word, and that is where he later fell.
Give therefore to thy servant an understanding heart, to judge thy people, to discern between good and bad; for who is able to judge this thy numerous people?
God offers Solomon anything he wants, and the young king asks for a heart that can hear. That raises two questions. What kind of heart did he ask for? And why did the request please God?
Older translations read "an understanding heart" where the ESV has "an understanding mind." Solomon is not asking for cleverness. He is asking for an ear.
He asks the Lord for "an understanding heart." Hearing is the door to discernment and intelligence. To be wise, you must begin by listening to wisdom: "Blessed is the one who listens to me" (Prov. 8:34). All true service starts with hearing. Solomon did not know how to "go out or come in"; he could not learn this except by listening. Anyone who does not begin by enrolling in the school of wisdom will never be a true servant.
Solomon's request grew out of what he had just admitted about himself. And the offer he received was not for him alone.
He felt two things deeply: his own littleness, and his great responsibility in governing so many people... And this offer was not made to Solomon alone. The same One who appeared to Solomon and put this gracious question to him later came to earth dressed as a servant. Yet He was greater than Solomon in all his glory, and He said: "Ask, and it will be given to you" (Matt. 7:7). And again He said: "Whatever you ask in my name, this I will do" (John 14:13). It is faith's privilege to hear Him speak like this to our hearts and to make use of His great offer.
Notice whose people Solomon says he must judge. That one word changes the weight of the job.
He did not regard the people as his people, his to govern, his to serve God in, but God's people entrusted to him. This gives seriousness; and, further, it exercises conscience. So he asked for wisdom, for he needed it. If they had been his own people, he might have had wisdom enough. But they were God's people, so he needed wisdom from God. That is what he asked for — not wealth or long life.
The older wording — "heart" — matters. It carries a lesson for anyone who has to judge others.
You come to know the mind of God with the heart, not with the intelligence. Affection for Christ produces true intelligence. The heart listens. Once it has received the lessons it needs, it becomes wise — able to discern between good and evil and to govern the people of God. The heart matters so much in service because no judgment can be according to God unless love is its starting point. We experience this in cases of discipline, in guiding souls, and in caring for saints and assemblies.
Solomon also asks to discern good from evil. That phrase has the sense of a judge passing sentence.
It is to sit in judgment, and pass sentence, on good or evil which we find in our own souls. Of David the king, it was said, by the wise woman of Tekoa, "my lord the king is like the angel of God to discern good and evil" (2 Sam. 14:17). This refers to decisions of judgment. So of Solomon in 1 Kings 3:9; so of Israel, Deut. 1:39; see also Heb. 5:14.
What Solomon passed over is as telling as what he chose.
His speech pleased the Lord well. He might have asked for long life or riches, or for the life of his enemies. Instead he asked for an understanding heart, so that he might rule God's people well. Our Lord once said: "Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." The Lord dealt with Solomon on this principle... but God went on to say, "If you will walk in My ways, and keep My statutes." ... The "if" to Solomon in 1 Kings 3:14 was as fatal as the "if" to Israel in Exodus 19:5. Weak flesh can never be trusted, and Solomon's failure was catastrophic.
Solomon's most famous ruling pictures a king still to come.
He will rule or judge wisely, as expressed by Solomon's decree between the two prostitutes (1 Kings 3). And the sceptre of righteousness in His hand will secure peace... For when righteousness is in power, godly peace must be the result all over the world.
- Hear first. The heart he asked for is a listening heart. No one becomes wise, or a true servant, without first enrolling in the school of wisdom.
- Ask small. Solomon felt his own littleness and his heavy responsibility. That is what shaped the request that pleased God.
- Whose people? He judged God's people, not his own. That fact exercised his conscience and sent him to God for wisdom.
- Love judges best. The request was for a heart, because no judgment is according to God unless love is its starting point.
- Still open. The offer was never Solomon's alone: "Ask, and it will be given to you." Solomon failed his "if," but a greater King will rule and judge wisely.
And the word pleased the Lord, that Solomon had asked this thing.
At Gibeon God offered Solomon anything he wanted, and the young king asked for one thing. The account shows why that request delighted God, and what it teaches anyone who prays.
What Solomon left out of his prayer says as much as what he put in.
He asked for an understanding heart to administer justice to the people, to discern between good and evil. 2 Chronicles tells us that his request also included "wisdom and knowledge." God was pleased with Solomon's request (v.10), above all because he did not ask for completely selfish things, such as long life, riches or the destruction of his enemies (v.11). He asked for wisdom to discern justice, showing a desire to see the people of Israel prosper.
Solomon did not treat Israel as his own property, and that changed what he needed.
Now, Solomon entered into this in his measure. He did not regard the people as his people, his to govern, his to serve God in, but God's people entrusted to him. This gives seriousness; and, further, it exercises conscience. So he asked for wisdom, since he certainly needed it. If they had been his own people, his own wisdom might have been enough. But they were God's people, so he needed wisdom from God. That is what he asked for — not wealth or long life.
The request came out of a confession. Solomon gave thanks first, then admitted he was out of his depth.
The young king's answer delighted the heart of God. First, he acknowledged His loving-kindness in giving David a son to sit upon his throne. Then he admitted that he was not equal to the heavy responsibilities he now carried... He had no power to guide and direct them rightly in their unique relation to God. "I am but a little child. I do not know how to go out or come in." The spirit of the little child — humble, trusting, and teachable — is fitting in us all.
One writer draws from this a rule about all our asking.
Solomon asked for wisdom, and "it pleased the Lord that Solomon had asked this." We never please Him in what we ask or do, except when we set aside the claims of our own nature... When that is so, the blessed God stands at the top of the mystic ladder. Heaven is then not far off. Then wisdom is what we ask for, as the thing most pleasing to Him. To us, this is Christ, God's wisdom and God's power.
God gave more than Solomon asked for. But the promise did not end with the gift.
He might have asked for long life or riches, or the life of his enemies; instead he asked for an understanding heart that he might rule the people of God well. Our blessed Lord once said: "Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." On this principle Jehovah dealt with Solomon... This seemed to make the blessing of Israel secure. But God went on to say, "If you will walk in My ways, and keep My statutes."... The "if" to Solomon in 1 Kings 3:14 was as fatal as the "if" to Israel in Exodus 19:5. Poor flesh can never be trusted, and Solomon's failure was a disaster.
The open question put to Solomon was not a one-off privilege for an ancient king.
While he was still at Gibeon, Jehovah appeared to him in a dream and said: "Ask what I shall give you." What grace this was! But it also searched his innermost soul. And this offer was not made only to Solomon. The One who appeared to Solomon and put this gracious question to him later came to earth dressed as a servant, yet He was greater than Solomon in all his glory. He said: "Ask, and it will be given to you" (Matt. 7:7).
- Smallness first. Solomon admitted he was out of his depth before he asked for anything. That is the humble, trusting, teachable spirit of a little child.
- Stewardship, not ownership. He asked for wisdom because the people were God's, not his. If they had been his own, his own wisdom might have been enough.
- The request God loved. He left out long life, riches and the death of his enemies. He asked instead to tell good from evil, so the nation would prosper.
- The added gifts. God gave him what he asked and more. Seek the kingdom first, and the rest is added.
- The "if" that followed. God tied the blessing to walking in His ways. Solomon's later collapse shows that poor flesh can never be trusted.
And God said to him, Because thou hast asked this thing, and hast not asked for thyself long life, neither hast asked riches for thyself, nor hast asked the life of thine enemies, but hast asked for thyself discernment to understand judgment;
God's answer to Solomon begins not with what He will give but with a list of what the young king never mentioned. What Solomon left out is a test of the heart. It raises one question: what would you have asked for?
One writer explains the phrase, and points to the same wording elsewhere in Scripture:
An understanding heart is what Solomon asked of God (see 1 Kings 3:9-11), and it means, as the margin gives it, a hearing heart — a heart to hear or discern judgment... A heart that by faith loves to hear and bow to the excellent things that come out of the mouth of divine wisdom, without reasoning.
So Solomon did not ask for cleverness. He asked for a heart that listens first, then tells good from evil.
It came down to whose people Solomon believed he was governing. He never treated the nation as his own:
He did not regard the people as his people, his to govern, his to serve God in, but God's people entrusted to him. This gives seriousness; and, further, it exercises conscience. So he asked for wisdom, for surely he needed it. Had it been his own people, he might have had wisdom enough; but being God's people, he needed wisdom from God.
Another writer notes how small Solomon felt for the task:
Solomon did not request wisdom out of vanity or for personal advantage. He realized what a tremendous responsibility the Lord had entrusted to him, young and inexperienced as he was. He wanted wisdom so as to be able to rule God's great people well. May we too seek wisdom from above to function well in our daily tasks, family needs, and in the responsibilities God entrusts to us among His people!
Long life, riches, and the death of his enemies were the obvious things a new king might want. One writer sets out what Solomon chose instead:
He asked then for an understanding heart to administer justice to the people, to discern between good and evil. 2 Chronicles tells us that his request also included "wisdom and knowledge." God was pleased with Solomon's request. It pleased Him above all that Solomon did not ask for totally selfish things, such as long life, riches or the destruction of his enemies. He asked for wisdom to discern justice, showing a desire to see the people of Israel prosper.
One writer draws a wider rule from God's pleasure in that prayer:
Solomon asked for wisdom, and "it pleased the Lord that Solomon had asked this." We never please Him in what we ask or do, unless we set aside the claims of our own nature.
Solomon left those things out, and God gave them anyway. One writer links this to a promise of Jesus, and then to the condition that followed:
He might have asked for long life or riches, or the life of his enemies; instead he asked for an understanding heart so that he might rule the people of God well. Our blessed Lord once said: "Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." On this principle the Lord dealt with Solomon... "I give you also what you have not asked, both riches and honor, so that no other king shall compare with you, all your days." This seemed to make Israel's blessing secure, but God went on to say, "If you will walk in My ways, keeping My statutes." That "if" to Solomon was as fatal as the "if" to Israel, for weak human nature can never be trusted, and Solomon's failure was truly catastrophic.
Not every writer treats the request as flawless. One says Solomon should have asked for more:
But Solomon would have been wiser to ask much more than this. For instance, Deuteronomy 17:14-20 shows that a king faces a special temptation: to take many wives and horses, and to pile up riches. If he had known Scripture well, he might have known this. If he had prayed for God to keep him from these evils, his history might have been very different.
- Asked — Solomon wanted a "hearing heart": a mind that listens to God and can then tell good from evil.
- Why — the prayer pleased God because Solomon saw Israel as God's people, not his own. So he knew he needed God's wisdom.
- Not asked — long life, riches, and the death of enemies are self-centred requests. God commends Solomon for leaving them out.
- Added — God gave him the things he passed over. Seek God's kingdom first, and the rest is added.
- After — the promise carried an "if." Solomon's later failure shows that even the wisest man needed to ask God to guard him from himself.
behold, I have done according to thy word behold, I have given thee a wise and an understanding heart, so that there hath been none like unto thee before thee, neither after thee shall any arise like unto thee.
God answers Solomon's prayer in full, and then gives more than Solomon asked for. Three questions follow. Why did this prayer please God? What is a "wise and discerning mind"? And did the gift secure Solomon's future?
Solomon put himself low, and God set him high. One writer ties this to the way of Christ:
Solomon's answer "pleased the Lord" (v. 10). The Lord grants Solomon what he asked, and is pleased to add what Solomon had not asked for. He gives him the first place in wisdom. He also gives him riches and honour, so that no king in his days would be like him. Solomon's humble dependence put him in first place, as it is written: "Whoever would be great among you must be your servant... whoever would be first among you must be slave of all." It was so with Christ: "even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many."
Where the ESV reads "discerning mind," older translations read "an understanding heart." That heart begins by listening:
He asks the Lord for "an understanding heart," for hearing is the door to discernment and intelligence. To be wise, you must begin by listening to wisdom: "Blessed is the one who listens to me." All true service starts with hearing. Solomon did not know how to "go out or come in"; he could not learn this except by listening.
God gave a wise heart, not a clever mind. That difference shapes every judgment:
You only really learn the mind of God with the heart, not with the intellect... The heart listens. When it has received the lessons it needs, it becomes wise, able to discern between good and evil and to govern the people of God. The heart matters so much in service because no judgment can be according to God unless love is its starting point. We experience this in cases of discipline, in guiding souls, and in caring for saints and assemblies.
God's invitation was open-ended, and His answer overflowed the request:
God appeared to him in the night with the wonderful message, "Ask what I shall give you." It was as though He placed all His resources at the disposal of faith. The young king prays for wisdom and knowledge so that he may care for the flock committed to him. It was a most remarkable prayer for one in his position. The Lord shows His pleasure in it by giving him far more than all he asked or thought.
One writer turns this toward our own responsibilities:
Solomon did not ask for wisdom out of vanity or personal gain. He realised what a tremendous responsibility the Lord had entrusted to him, young and inexperienced as he was... May we too seek wisdom from above to function well in our daily tasks, family needs, and in the responsibilities God entrusts to us among His people! God will delight to honour such prayers. James 1:5-6 assures us that God is pleased to grant wisdom to all who ask Him in faith, with no doubting.
Solomon's own book shows where his wisdom had to stay anchored:
A brief look at the book shows that when God gave Solomon wisdom, it was wisdom from above. His own wisdom, great as it was, was not enough to guide him when he was directed by himself. So we find "the fear of the Lord" connected with wisdom.
A condition follows in the next verse, and that is where the story turns:
In verse 14, as in all the books we are studying, the question of the king's responsibility is raised. "If you will walk in my ways, keeping my statutes and my commandments, as your father David walked, then I will lengthen your days." Solomon could not meet this if. It led to his ruin and to the division of his kingdom.
One writer looks past Solomon to Christ:
Not one question brought to Jesus on earth puzzled Him. He is the true Solomon, the greater than Solomon, and His wisdom could meet and answer every hard question. Nor is it different now, for Christ, risen from the dead and glorified in heaven, "became to us wisdom from God" (1 Cor. 1:30). There is not a question the troubled, anxious sinner can bring to Him that He will not answer in wisdom and in grace.
- Listening — hearing is the door to discernment. All true service starts by listening to wisdom.
- Heart — you learn God's mind with the heart, not the intellect. No judgment is according to God unless love starts it.
- Humility — humble dependence put Solomon in first place. Christ walked the same order: the servant becomes the greatest.
- Overflow — God placed all His resources at the disposal of faith and gave far beyond the prayer. The same offer stands when we ask in faith today.
- Fear of the Lord — wisdom from above still stays under the fear of the Lord. Solomon failed the "if" that came with the gift; the greater than Solomon answers every hard question still.
And I have also given thee that which thou hast not asked, both riches and glory; so that there shall not be any among the kings like unto thee all thy days.
God answers Solomon's prayer for an understanding heart. Then He adds two things the young king never mentioned, which raises a question about prayer: why does God give what we never asked for?
God offered Solomon anything he wanted. What he left out matters as much as what he asked for. One writer ties his choice to a principle the Lord Jesus later taught.
He might have asked for long life or riches, or the life of his enemies. Instead he asked for an understanding heart, so that he might rule the people of God well. Our blessed Lord once said: "But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." On this principle the Lord dealt with Solomon.
Riches and honour followed humble dependence, not ambition. One writer sees the same order in Christ: the servant's place first, then the highest place of all.
The Lord grants Solomon his request and is pleased to add what Solomon had not requested. He grants him the first place in wisdom. Moreover, He gives him "both riches and honor, so that no other king shall compare with you, all your days." Solomon's humble dependence put him in first place, as it is written: "Whoever would be great among you must be your servant." It was so with Christ: "For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many." In every respect there is none like Him! Wisdom, power, wealth, the crown of glory and honour — all things shall be His in the day which the Lord shall make.
God's offer to Solomon had no limits. One writer shows what God did with a prayer that put His people before self.
God appeared to him in the night with the wonderful message, "Ask what I shall give you." It was as though He placed all His resources at the disposal of faith. The young king prays for wisdom and knowledge so that he may care for the flock committed to him. It was a most remarkable prayer for one in his position. The Lord shows His pleasure in it by giving him far more than all that he asked or thought.
God gave the riches with no conditions. The next verse adds one. One writer points to the small word that everything else hangs on.
In verse 14, as in all the books we are studying, we meet the question of the king's responsibility. "If you will walk in my ways, to keep my statutes and my commandments, as your father David walked, then I will lengthen your days." Solomon could not meet this if. It led to his ruin and to the division of his kingdom.
Solomon's later life turns the gift into a warning. He got the riches and honour — but not by waiting on God.
We must not always take the gaining and enjoying of promised blessings as a mark of God's approval. Solomon had asked God for wisdom, and to it God added riches and honour. But then he obtained the promised riches and honour by disobedience. He gathered many chariots and horses for himself, which God had forbidden. We need faith for the means as well as the end. That is, we must wait patiently for God Himself to make good to us the very blessings He promised.
Another writer asks what Solomon did with the gift:
Was there no misuse of the abundant riches which the Lord added to him? Were they given so that he might bring horses out of Egypt, have chariots, and take many wives — the very things God had forbidden?
- Asked — Solomon asked for an understanding heart to rule God's people. He left out long life, wealth and the life of his enemies.
- Added — He sought God's interests first, so God added the rest. God put all His resources at the disposal of faith and gave far beyond what Solomon asked.
- Ascended — Humble dependence put Solomon first. It is the pattern of Christ, who came to serve, and to whom wisdom, wealth and honour will belong.
- Attached — God gave the riches outright. He did not give long life the same way: it hung on an "if" of obedience Solomon failed to meet.
- Abused — He later grasped the promised riches and honour by disobedience. We need faith for the means as much as for the end.
And if thou wilt walk in my ways, to keep my statutes and my commandments, as thy father David did walk, then I will prolong thy days.
God had just given Solomon more than he asked for: wisdom, and riches and honour he never sought. Then He tied one more blessing — long life — to a condition, and the whole later story of the kingdom turns on that small word "if".
One writer sets this condition beside the outcome it had.
In verse 14, as in all the books we are studying, the question of the king's responsibility comes up. "If you will walk in My ways, keeping My statutes and My commandments, as your father David walked, then I will lengthen your days." Solomon could not meet this if. It led to his ruin and to the division of his kingdom.
That "if" did not hang over Solomon alone. One writer links it to an earlier "if" that God set before the whole nation.
God's gift of wisdom, riches and honour seemed to make the blessing of Israel secure. But God went on to say, "If you will walk in My ways, keeping My statutes." The priesthood had been in a secondary place since the breakdown of Eli and his sons. So everything depended on the faithfulness of the king. The "if" to Solomon in 1 Kings 3:14 was as fatal as the "if" to Israel in Exodus 19:5. Poor flesh can never be trusted, and Solomon's failure was truly catastrophic. Blessed be God, everything that men have lost by their unfaithfulness will be taken up by the Lord Jesus, God's faithful Second Man, on the principle of grace and on the ground of redemption. This makes all things sure for ever.
Notice the difference in how God speaks about each blessing.
Therefore God gave him a wise and understanding heart which would excel the wisdom of anyone before or after him. Besides this God promised to give him riches and honour greater than all the kings of his day (v.13). Then God added a conditional promise that, if Solomon walked in God's ways, keeping His statutes and commandments, as David had, then God would lengthen his days.
God does not describe obedience in the abstract. He points to a man Solomon had watched all his life.
All the training that David had was equally for Solomon, and God set David before him as the pattern for his walk. "If you will walk before Me, as David your father walked, with integrity of heart and uprightness," and so on (1 Kings 9:4). Because of David's sin, the sword would never depart from his house. Who would have held such a man up as a pattern to his son? God did, because in his darkest hours David always put his trust in Him. It is this faith that God calls "integrity of heart."
The condition God sets exposes a gap between knowing what is right and doing it.
Very likely Solomon thought that wisdom and knowledge would enable him to please God in all he did. But sadly, he failed badly at keeping God's commandments. He married 700 wives and had 300 concubines who turned away his heart from the Lord, so that in the end he became an idol worshipper (ch.11:1-8). What he asked for was good, but it was not good enough. Wisdom and knowledge are never enough to keep us walking with God. Solomon did not pray that God would keep him from evil in his own life. Had he read Deuteronomy 17:14-20? If so, did he not realise that he needed more than an understanding heart? He needed a submissive heart, obedient to the Word of God. Only this could have kept him from the evils he fell into.
Solomon did receive the riches and honour. But how he got them tells its own story.
We must not always take the getting and enjoying of promised blessings as a mark of God's approval. Jacob told a lie to get the promised blessings. Solomon had asked God for wisdom, and to it God added riches and honour. But then he gets the promised riches and honour by disobedience, for he built up chariots and horses for himself, which God had forbidden. We need faith for the means as well as the end. That is, we must wait patiently for God Himself to make good to us the very blessings He promised.
- Given — Wisdom, riches and honour came to Solomon as outright gifts. Only long life carried a condition.
- Conditioned — The "if" made the king answerable. With the priesthood already fallen, the nation's blessing rested on his faithfulness.
- Patterned — God named David as the model. Not for a clean record, but because in his darkest hours David kept trusting Him.
- Not enough — Wisdom and knowledge never keep a person walking with God. Solomon asked for an understanding heart. He never asked God to keep him from evil.
- Forfeited — He got the riches and honour, but by disobedience. Holding a promised blessing is no proof that God approves how you got it. What men lost under the "if", the Lord Jesus makes sure by grace.
And Solomon awoke, and behold, it was a dream. And he came to Jerusalem, and stood before the ark of the covenant of Jehovah, and offered up burnt-offerings, and offered peace-offerings, and made a feast to all his servants.
Solomon wakes from the night at Gibeon. God had told him to ask for anything, and had given him more than he asked for. His first move is not to his throne but to Jerusalem, to the ark. Where he goes, what he offers, and whom he invites show what wisdom looked like in practice.
The verse names the night for what it was: a dream. One writer sees that setting as deliberate. Sleep strips away our power to manage how we look.
It was there that He appeared to him in a dream (v. 5). As others have pointed out, this matters. In a dream you cannot hide the true state of your heart. Neither your reason nor your will is holding back what is inside you. In a dream the soul lies open before the Lord.
Gibeon had the great altar. Jerusalem had the ark, the chest that stood for God's presence. One writer reads Solomon's journey between the two as the first proof that God had given him the wisdom he asked for.
Having received these blessings, Solomon leaves Gibeon and comes to Jerusalem, where he "stood before the ark of the covenant of the Lord." That is the act of a submissive heart which understands the mind of God. It is the first sign of the wisdom he has just received. He leaves the forms to take hold of the reality. He leaves the outward display of his religion to seek the presence of God, represented by the ark — a picture of Christ. The altar of Gibeon is no longer enough for him. He leaves that place behind, and it plays no further part in his religious life.
What moved him there was not duty but a full heart. Another writer adds the terms that came with God's answer.
The sense of God's goodness, and the joy in his heart, bring him before the ark of the covenant of the God who had revealed Himself to him far beyond what he expected. God's answer at once places the king under the condition of obedience.
The verse lists burnt offerings first, then peace offerings. The two were not the same.
The burnt offerings were completely consumed. They were an atonement for man, yet they were burnt entirely to God — "the priest shall burn all on the altar." The peace offerings were different. The man who brought the offering ate part of it, because in them he had communion with God. In them man had his own portion to feed on. He ate of the victim that had been sacrificed.
That difference explains why the smaller day in Jerusalem outweighs the bigger day at Gibeon.
There is more joy before the ark than at Gibeon, even though the king had probably offered far more sacrifices at Gibeon (2 Chr. 1:6) than here. But before the ark we find peace offerings, the true sacrifices of communion, and with them a feast for all the king's servants.
The feast is not an extra tacked on to the worship. It grows out of it.
Where there is true fellowship with God, there will also be a real desire to share the joys of the feast with others. So guests were invited to the feast of the peace offering, and all were welcome as long as they came clean in the way the law required.
Commentators praise this visit to the ark, but with an eye on the rest of Solomon's life.
The proper place for offerings was before the ark, not in high places. So Solomon showed his thankfulness to God by giving Him honor and showing kindness to the people. If only Solomon had continued as he began, how much more refreshing would his history have been, and how much more honoring to God!
They differ on how strong the pull of the ark was in him. One writer compares him with his father and finds him wanting, since the ark was hidden and appealed only to faith, while the great altar was public and visible:
That was what drew king David. Not so much king Solomon — not so characteristically. We are told this particularly in contrast with his father. This you observe in the chapter where the tendencies to departure first begin to be perceived.
- Heart. A dream leaves no room for pretending, so what God drew out of Solomon that night was the genuine state of his heart.
- Wisdom. The new wisdom showed itself first in where Solomon went. He left the outward display of religion for the reality.
- Nearness. He left the great altar at Gibeon for the hidden ark, and the smaller offering held the greater joy.
- Communion. Burnt offerings went up to God in full. Peace offerings gave the worshipper a portion to eat, so the day ended in a shared meal.
- Overflow. Real fellowship with God wants company, so the servants ate too. The sadness of Solomon's story is that he did not continue as he began.
Then came two women, harlots, to the king, and stood before him.
Two women of the lowest standing in Israel come before the king with a quarrel over a child. What follows is a sample of Solomon's wisdom at work. Commentators see in it both how God judges and a picture of a far greater love.
Solomon had asked God for the wisdom to carry out the duties of his throne. The next scene puts that gift to work in public.
Solomon knows he needs the help of Jehovah to fulfil the duties before him. Through the grace of God, he shows a state of heart about this which pleases Jehovah… The judgment he gives shows the wisdom he had asked for, and the people acknowledge that it comes from God.
Two claims, no proof, no witnesses, no distinguishing marks on the child. Their trade did not close the court to them.
Though it concerns prostitutes, nothing changes this judgment. Men always let the character of those who speak to them shape their judgments. It is not so with God. What matters to Him is the heart, not the outward character. Solomon's judgment rests on the affections the heart shows. Claims and denials were worth the same here, so judgment could not rest on them… The question was not which of the two women was more worthy — both were prostitutes. It was not whether the actions complained of were likely or had happened — there had been no witness. It was not whether the true mother could recognise her child by some outward sign — there were none.
The order to divide the child sounded monstrous. No one in the room could have guessed where it was going.
No ruler better than Solomon shows that the heart of kings is unsearchable… Did one soul see into his heart when he called for a sword? He said, "Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one and half to the other." The false mother was as willing as the true one was not, but who could have anticipated it except the king? What sounded cruel turned out wise and kind.
The false claimant agreed to the sentence, and her agreement exposed her.
It was not love for the child that moved her, but jealousy toward the other woman. Solomon knew that if she was dishonest enough to steal the child, his test would reveal her motives.
The real mother would rather lose her son than see him killed.
When the true mother saw the sword lifted over her child, "her heart yearned for her son." The object loved matters more to us than our love for it. This is how one tells what is real, and who the true mother is… Only divine wisdom can tell, by the state of the heart, whether a profession of faith is real. How often there is profession without reality! Where are the affections for Christ? Where is the devotion that sacrifices even its lawful advantages and rights for Him?
One writer draws out the principle behind the king's ruling and follows it to the cross.
The king's judgment was this: self-sacrificing love has the unbreakable right to hold and enjoy the object it loves. And all the power of his throne stood behind his judgment to make it good. Solomon's judgment declared the law of God's universe, and there is none greater than it.
The sentence of death had been passed on us and the enemy of God claimed us as his; not that he cared for us at all. "He shall be neither mine nor yours; divide him," said the woman who was not the mother — let it perish. Satan would have been overjoyed if we had been buried for ever in the depth of hell. Then God and Christ would have lost us for ever. But the Good Shepherd gave His life for the sheep.
One writer looks past the verdict to what such a case says about Solomon's reign, and about the greater King to come.
The king's action made a deep impression on the people generally. "And all Israel heard of the judgment that the king had rendered, and they stood in awe of the king, because they perceived that the wisdom of God was in him to do justice." But the incident reminds us that Solomon's glorious reign did not reach perfection. No one could ever bring such a sordid case before Solomon's greater Son, God's "Holy One."
- Asked — Solomon asked God for wisdom to judge. This case is the public proof that God gave it.
- Impartial — the women's trade did not shut the court to them. God weighs the heart, not the speaker's reputation.
- Tested — there were no witnesses and no proof. The sword was not cruelty. It made hidden motives speak.
- Revealed — jealousy said, "divide him." Love would rather give the child up than see him die. Love shows itself by what it will surrender.
- Fulfilled — self-sacrificing love holds the unbreakable right to the one it loves. The cross proved that law.
And the first woman said, Ah, my lord! I and this woman abode in one house; and I was delivered of a child with her in the house.
Two women with no standing in society walk into the king's court, and one of them speaks first. Her case opens a dispute that no witness could settle.
The woman's speech in this verse begins a story that runs to verse 21. One writer traces the whole complaint she brings:
Two women who were prostitutes came to Solomon to have him judge a controversy between them. The complainant stated her case first. She claimed that after she had given birth to a child, the other woman had smothered her own child by lying on him at night. Then, while the first mother was sleeping, the other woman had swapped the babies. When she awoke in the morning, she said, she found the child dead, but in examining him, found this was not her child.
She calls him "my lord" — a woman of the streets speaking to the throne. The king hears her case anyway.
After the understanding to worship before the ark, which was the first sign of his wisdom, we find in Solomon "the wisdom of God… to do judgment" (v. 28). Though it concerns harlots, nothing changes this judgment. People always let the character of the speaker sway their judgments; it is not so with God. What is important for Him is the heart, not the outward character.
Her account is detailed, but it is only her account. Strip the case down and there is nothing left for an ordinary judge to work with.
Claims and denials carried equal weight in this case, and no judgment could rest on them. What could establish judgment was the showing of the heart. The question was not which of the two women was the more worthy — both were harlots. It was not whether the actions complained of were likely or had taken place — there had been no witness. It was not whether the true mother could recognise her child by certain outward signs — there were none.
No one in the room could have predicted what Solomon did next.
No sovereign better than Solomon shows that the heart of kings is unsearchable. See his decision of the dispute between the mothers, whose was the dead child, and whose the living one. Was there one soul who saw into his heart? He asked for a sword and said, "Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one and half to the other." The false mother was as willing as the true was not, but who could have expected it except the king? What sounded cruel turned out wise and kind.
The test did not produce evidence. It produced love — and the ruling followed the love.
One of them loved the child with a mother's true love. The other had no love for him at all. She wanted him only because she could not bear to see true love in possession of what it loved. "Bring a sword and divide the living child," said the king. For that moment the child was under the sentence of death, with the sword hanging over it, ready to strike. How could anyone save him from the carrying out of the sentence? True love found the way of salvation for it. But it was the way of sacrifice, and that was the only way… The king's judgment was this: self-sacrificing love has a right that cannot be taken away — the right to have and enjoy the object it loves.
The same writer carries that verdict straight to the cross:
The sentence of death had been passed on us and the enemy of God claimed us as his; not that he cared for us at all. "Let it be neither mine nor yours, but divide it," said the woman who was not the child's mother — let it perish… But the Good Shepherd gave His life for the sheep.
The test was original and it worked. Yet the same writer notes what Solomon's reign still lacked.
The suggestion to divide the baby with the sword was new and bold. It was probably without precedent in the world's history. But it brought out the feelings of the true mother with such a rush that it became clear whose the child was… But the incident reminds us that perfection was not reached in Solomon's glorious reign. It is unthinkable that anyone would bring such a sordid case to Solomon's greater Son, God's "Holy One," for judgment.
- Heard. The king heard two women society had written off. Who they were changed nothing in his judgment.
- Stuck. Word stood against word, with no witness and no mark on the child. Ordinary evidence could settle nothing.
- Sword. The king's unexpected order was the one test that could expose a heart; what sounded cruel turned out wise and kind.
- Sacrifice. The true mother gave up the child rather than see him die. Self-sacrificing love has the right to what it loves.
- Calvary. The cross shows the same law. Love took the way of sacrifice, and that is how it saved and kept the one it loved.
And it came to pass the third day after I was delivered, that this woman was delivered also; and we were together; no stranger was with us in the house, only we two were in the house.
Two women come before the king with one living baby between them, and one of them is lying. Their babies were born three days apart, and verse 18 adds the fact that makes the case impossible: no one else was in the house.
The two women who bring this quarrel are prostitutes, yet the king hears them out. One writer notes what could not decide the case:
Though it concerns prostitutes, nothing changes this judgment. People always let the character of the speaker sway their judgment; it is not so with God. What matters to Him is the heart, not the outward character. The question was not which of the two women was more worthy — both were prostitutes. Nor was it whether the acts they complained of were likely, or had even happened — there had been no witness to it. Nor was it whether the true mother could recognize her child by some outward sign — there were none.
Verse 18 shuts every ordinary door. No third person was in the house, so neither woman could call anyone to back her story.
They had brought the babies with them, but there were no witnesses. We would think someone else must have seen which child was born first. However, Solomon did not need other witnesses. He called for a sword, and commanded that the living child should be cut in half, with each mother having a half. Of course this would not be a satisfactory arrangement, but Solomon knew who he was dealing with. The real mother protested strongly, saying she would rather the other woman take her child than have the child killed.
Since nothing outside the two women could settle it, the king had to read the women themselves. One writer compares his wisdom with David's:
He perfectly understood the heart of man; David entered into the heart of God. There was the difference. Solomon understood the heart of man well — no man better; no man so well. God has used him as the vessel of the deepest human wisdom that even the word of God contains. I call it human, because it is about human affairs.
The order he gave sounded cruel, and no one in the room could see where it was going.
Did one soul see into his heart when he asked for a sword? He said, Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one and half to the other. The false mother was as willing as the true was not, but who could have anticipated it but the king? What sounded cruel turned out wise and kind.
What the sword exposed was not a fact but an affection. One writer states the principle the king applied:
The king's judgment was this: self-sacrificing love has a right that cannot be taken away — the right to have and enjoy what it loves. And all the power of his throne lay behind his judgment to give effect to it. Solomon's judgment declared the law of God's universe, and there is no greater law than that.
One writer applies the same test to the claim to belong to Christ:
"Divide it," says the one who is not the mother, giving way to her resentment. A person quickly sacrifices Christ when it is a matter of satisfying his own passions. Only divine wisdom can tell whether a profession of faith is real, and it judges by the state of the heart. How often there is profession without reality!
Commentators also read the scene forward. Some see in Solomon's decision a sample of a greater King's rule:
He will rule or judge wisely, as expressed by Solomon's decree between the two prostitutes. And the sceptre of righteousness in His hand will secure peace.
Others point the other way. The case itself shows that Solomon's reign, for all its splendour, was not the perfect one:
It is unthinkable that such a squalid case could ever be brought to Solomon's greater Son for judgment.
- No witness. The two women were alone in the house, so no outside evidence existed and the case was one word against another.
- No favourites. Both women were prostitutes, so worth settled nothing. God weighs the heart, not reputation.
- No proof needed. The king did not look for more witnesses; he created a test that made the hidden heart speak.
- Love answers. The woman who would rather lose her son than see him killed proved she was the mother. Self-sacrificing love holds the right to what it loves.
- A greater Judge. Commentators see a picture of the King who is still to come. They also see a reign that fell short, since such a case reached the throne at all.
And this woman's child died in the night; because she had lain upon it.
Two women share one house. Each has a newborn son, and one baby is dead before morning. This verse is the turning point in the first woman's story to Solomon: the other mother rolled onto her child in her sleep and smothered him. No one else saw that night, so the king must judge a case with no proof.
The woman speaking is making a charge: the other mother lay on her own child, and then swapped the babies.
Two women who were prostitutes came to Solomon and asked him to judge a dispute between them. The woman who brought the complaint spoke first. She said that after she gave birth to a child, the other woman smothered her own child by lying on him at night. Then, while the first mother slept, the other woman swapped the babies. She said that when she woke in the morning she found the child dead, but when she looked closely, he was not her child (vs.17-21).
No one else saw the death, and no mark on the baby could settle it. A judge who weighs only outward facts has nothing to work with here.
People always let the character of the person speaking influence their judgment; God does not. What is important for Him is the heart, not the outward character. Solomon bases his judgment on the affections the heart shows. Statements and denials carried equal weight in this case, and no judgment could rest on them (v. 22). What could settle the judgment was the showing of the heart. The question was not which of the two women was the better person — both were prostitutes. It was not whether the things complained of were likely, or had happened at all — no one had witnessed it. It was not whether the true mother could recognise her child by some outward sign — there were none.
Strip away what no one can prove, and one thing still stands. A woman looked at the dead baby and said he was not her son. Solomon has only her heart to read.
The only testimony was that one of these women said that she did not recognise her son in the dead child. So the case came down to judging the state of her heart, and only the affections she showed could settle it. One of these women had an object she loved. Which of the two had it? For where true ties of love exist, we seek to protect at any cost what is dear to us, even at the risk of losing it for ourselves. That is the character of love. Love is not selfish: it sacrifices itself for the object loved.
The dead child in this verse is why Solomon calls for a sword over the living one. His order sounds cruel, and no one in the room can guess what he is doing.
No sovereign shows better than Solomon that the heart of kings is unsearchable. See his decision in the dispute between the mothers — whose was the dead child, and whose the living one. Did one soul see into his heart when he asked for a sword? He said, "Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one and half to the other." The false mother was as willing as the true one was not, but who could have expected it except the king? What sounded cruel turned out wise and kind.
One writer hears in the false mother's "divide it" the voice of an enemy who would rather destroy than lose:
The sentence of death had been passed on us and the enemy of God claimed us as his; not that he cared for us at all. "Let it be neither mine nor yours, but divide it," said the woman whose the child was not — let it perish. Satan would have been overjoyed if we had been buried for ever in the depth of hell. Then God and Christ would have lost us for ever. But the Good Shepherd gave His life for the sheep.
Commentators weigh this story against the reign of Solomon's greater Son. One sees how far it falls short:
But the incident reminds us that Solomon's glorious reign never reached perfection. We cannot imagine such a sordid case being brought to Solomon's greater Son, God's "Holy One" (Psalm 89:19), for settlement.
Another sees the same verdict as a picture of how the coming King will judge:
He will rule or judge wisely, as expressed by Solomon's decree between the two prostitutes. (1 Kings 3) And the sceptre of righteousness in His hand will secure peace.
- Night. The child died in the dark, with no one watching. The swap that followed left the true mother holding a dead child who was not her son.
- Deadlock. Two opposite claims, no witnesses, no marks to identify the child. Word against word settled nothing.
- Heart. Outward evidence failed, so Solomon judged by the affections. Love protects what it loves, even at the cost of losing it.
- Sword. The order to divide the living child sounded cruel and proved wise and kind. Only the king saw what it would reveal.
- King. A case this sordid shows the limits of Solomon's reign. Yet his verdict points to the righteous rule still to come.
And she arose at midnight, and took my son from beside me, while thy handmaid slept, and laid it in her bosom, and laid her dead son in my bosom.
A woman stands before Solomon and tells what happened in the dark: a baby swapped at midnight, one child dead, one alive, and no witness awake. How does a king reach the truth when all he has is two women's conflicting words?
Verse 20 sits inside the first woman's opening statement. Grant retells the charge in full.
The woman who brought the complaint spoke first. She said that after she had given birth to a child, the other woman smothered her own child by lying on him at night. The other woman then changed the babies while the first mother was sleeping. When she awoke in the morning, she said, she found the child dead. But in examining him, she found this was not her child.
The swap happened while she slept, so the king has nothing to weigh. No witness, no mark on the child, and two claims of equal weight.
Men always let the character of the person speaking sway their judgment; it is not so with God. What matters to Him is the heart, not the outward character. Solomon's judgment is based on the affections shown by the heart. Statements and denials were of equal value in this case, and judgment could not be based on them. The question was not which of the two women was the more worthy — both were prostitutes. It was not whether the things complained of were likely or had happened, for there had been no witness to it. Nor was it whether the true mother could recognise her child by some outward sign — there were none.
No one could rebuild that night, so Solomon made the present moment speak. His order gave nothing away.
No ruler better than Solomon shows that the heart of kings is unsearchable. See his decision in the dispute between the mothers, over whose was the dead child and whose the living one. Was there one soul who saw into his heart when he asked for a sword? Divide the living child in two, he said, and give half to the one and half to the other. The false mother was as willing as the true one was not, but who could have expected it except the king? What sounded cruel turned out wise and kind.
She had said the child was lifted from her side. Solomon's test reached for a bond no swap could transfer.
Solomon used something God has planted in a mother: an instinct of deepest attachment to her own child. You are not likely to find it where there is no direct vital relationship. So there remained not the slightest doubt that the first woman was the mother of the child, and the king ordered them to give the child to her.
The sentence over the child forced love to show itself.
One of them loved it with a mother's true love. The other had no love for it at all. She wanted it because she could not bear to see true love in possession of what it loved. "Bring a sword and divide the living child," said the king. For that moment the child was under the sentence of death. The sword ready to strike hung over it. How could it be saved from having the sentence carried out? True love found the way of salvation for it, but it was the way of sacrifice; that was the only way.
Mawson sums up the king's verdict:
Self-sacrificing love has an unbreakable right to have and enjoy the one it loves. And all the power of his throne lay behind his judgment to give effect to it.
Rossier turns the test on the reader's own heart.
"Divide it," says the one who is not the mother, giving way to her resentment. A person quickly sacrifices Christ when it is a matter of satisfying his own passions. Only divine wisdom is able to discern the reality of profession by the state of the heart. How often there is profession without reality! Where are the affections for Christ? Where is the devotion that sacrifices even its rightful advantages and rights for Him?
The verdict won Solomon the awe of the nation. Even so, the case marks a limit.
The king's action made a deep impression on the people in general. "And all Israel heard of the judgment that the king had rendered, and they stood in awe of the king, because they perceived that the wisdom of God was in him to do justice." But the incident reminds us that Solomon's glorious reign did not reach perfection. It is unthinkable that anyone could bring such a sordid case for decision to Solomon's greater Son, God's "Holy One."
- Dark — the swap happened at midnight while the mother slept. No witness, no mark on the child.
- Deadlock — claim and denial weighed the same, and neither woman's character helped. Evidence could not settle it.
- Discernment — Solomon reached past the dark to the heart. No one guessed his purpose until he asked for the sword.
- Devotion — the true mother gave up her claim to keep the child alive. That sacrifice is still the mark of real love.
- Dominion — all the power of a throne stood behind the verdict that love keeps what it loves. It points to a greater King than Solomon.
And when I rose in the morning to give my child suck, behold, it was dead; and I considered it in the morning, and behold, it was not my son, whom I bore.
Two women shared a house, and each had a newborn son. One baby died in the night, and here the first woman tells the king what she found at dawn — a dead child who was not her own, and the start of Israel's most famous test of wisdom.
This verse ends her story. One commentator sets out the whole complaint that leads up to it.
Two women who were prostitutes came to Solomon to have him judge a dispute between them. The complainant stated her case first. She claimed that after she had given birth to a child, the other woman had smothered her own child by lying on him at night. Then, while the first mother was sleeping, the other woman had changed the babies. When she awoke in the morning, she said, she found the child dead, but on examining him, found this was not her child.
Her case rests on what she saw that morning. The other woman denies it. The court has nothing to weigh.
Affirmations or denials were of equal value in this case, and judgment could not be based upon them. What could establish judgment was the showing of the heart. The question was not which of the two women was the more worthy — both were prostitutes. Nor was it whether the actions complained of were likely or had taken place, for there had been no witness. Nor was it whether the true mother could recognise her child by outward signs — there were none. The only testimony was that one of these women said that she did not recognise her son in the dead child.
The same writer contrasts how people judge with how God judges.
Men always allow themselves to be influenced in their judgments by the character of those who speak to them; it is not so with God. What matters to Him is the heart, not the outward character.
With nothing to weigh, the king called for a sword.
No ruler better than Solomon shows that the heart of kings is unsearchable. See his decision between the two mothers. Was there one soul who saw into his heart when he asked for a sword and said, "Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one and half to the other"? The false mother was as willing as the true one was not, but who could have expected it except the king? What sounded cruel turned out wise and kind.
Under the raised sword, the two hearts showed themselves.
When the true mother saw the sword lifted over her child, her heart yearned for her son. The object loved means more to us than our love for it. This is how you tell what is real, and who the true mother is… "Divide it," says the one who is not the mother, giving way to her resentment. A person quickly sacrifices Christ when it is a matter of satisfying their own passions. Only divine wisdom can judge whether a profession of faith is real, by the state of the heart.
One writer puts the ruling as a law that holds everywhere.
The king's judgment was this: self-sacrificing love has a right to hold and enjoy the object it loves, and that right cannot be taken away. And all the power of his throne stood behind his judgment to give it effect. It was the law of God's universe that was declared in Solomon's judgment, and there is none greater than it.
The same writer takes the scene to the cross.
Our minds at once go back to Calvary, and we think of the self-sacrificing love that expressed itself there. The sentence of death had been passed on us and the enemy of God claimed us as his; not that he cared for us at all. "He shall be neither mine nor yours; divide him," said the woman whose child it was not — let him die. Satan would have been overjoyed if we had been buried for ever in the depths of hell, for then God and Christ would have lost us for ever. But the Good Shepherd gave His life for the sheep.
The people were left in awe. One commentator also marks what this reign still lacked.
The king's action made a deep impression on the people in general… But the incident reminds us that perfection was not reached in Solomon's glorious reign. No one could imagine such a sordid case being brought to Solomon's greater Son, God's "Holy One," for judgment.
- Claim. A mother woke, looked, and said the dead baby was not hers. The whole case stands on that one look.
- Deadlock. No one saw it happen, and the baby bore no marks. A denial weighed as much as the charge.
- Heart. With no outward proof, the king judged by what the heart showed. He was not swayed by who the women were.
- Sword. An order that sounded cruel was the wise and kind way to make love show itself. The true mother gave up her son rather than watch him die.
- Verdict. Self-sacrificing love has a right to what it loves, and the cross settled that claim in full. Solomon, for all his wisdom, only pointed to the greater King.
And the other woman said, No, for the living is my son, and the dead is thy son. And this one said, No, but the dead is thy son, and the living is my son. Thus they spoke before the king.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Then said the king, The one says, This that is living is my son, and thy son is the dead; and the other says, No, for thy son is the dead, and my son is the living.
Two women come to Solomon, each claiming the same living baby. The king sets their two claims side by side, and on the evidence the case looks unsolvable.
Each woman says the same thing with the names reversed. Both are prostitutes, so neither has a better reputation to lean on:
Men always let the character of the people speaking sway their judgment. It is not so with God. What is important for Him is the heart, not the outward character. Statements or denials were of equal value in this case, and judgment could not be based on them. The question was not which of the two women was the more worthy — both were prostitutes. It was not whether the actions complained of were likely or had happened, since there had been no witness to it. It was not whether the true mother could recognise her child by some outward sign, for there were none. The only testimony was that one of these women said she did not recognise her son in the dead child. So the real question was the state of her heart, and only the affections she showed could reveal it.
Since words had failed, Solomon proposed dividing the living child in two. He never meant it to happen. The order forced each woman to show what she truly wanted:
Of course this would not be a satisfactory arrangement, but Solomon knew who he was dealing with. The real mother of the child strongly protested, saying she would rather have the other woman take her child than have the child killed. The other woman was happy to have the child divided, knowing that neither of them would have the child. It was not love for the child that moved her, but jealousy toward the other woman. Solomon knew that if she was dishonest enough to steal the child, his test would expose her motives.
No one in the courtroom could have guessed what the king was doing, and that is part of the point:
No ruler better shows that the heart of kings is unsearchable than Solomon. Look at his decision in the dispute between the mothers, over whose was the dead child and whose the living one. Was there one person who saw into his mind when he called for a sword and said, Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one and half to the other? The false mother was as willing as the true one was unwilling, but who could have expected it except the king? What sounded cruel turned out to be wise and kind. "As the heavens for height, and the earth for depth, so the heart of kings is unsearchable."
The verdict turned on which woman would sooner lose her son than see him killed:
When the true mother saw the sword lifted over her child, "her heart yearned for her son." The object loved means more to us than our love for it. This is how you tell what is real, and who the true mother is. In Christian profession, the one who has not found an object for his heart gives himself away quickly. "Divide it," says the one who is not the mother, giving in to her bitterness. A person quickly sacrifices Christ when it is a matter of satisfying his own desires. Only divine wisdom is able to discern the reality of profession by the state of the heart.
The case was squalid, yet Scripture records it at length. A whole nation saw God's wisdom in their king:
The story of the two prostitutes and the living baby is recorded at length as a sample of Solomon's wise rule. The suggestion to divide the baby with the sword was fresh and bold. It was probably the first case of its kind in the world's history. It brought out the feelings of the true mother in such a rush that it became perfectly clear whose the child was. "And all Israel heard of the judgment that the king had rendered, and they stood in awe of the king, because they perceived that the wisdom of God was in him to do justice." But the incident reminds us that perfection was not reached in Solomon's glorious reign. It is unthinkable that anyone could bring such a sordid case to Solomon's greater Son, God's "Holy One."
A child under a death sentence, one woman who loved him and one content to see him die. One writer reads the scene as a picture of something far larger:
Our minds go straight to Calvary, and we think of the self-sacrificing love that expressed itself there. The sentence of death had been passed on us, and the enemy of God claimed us as his — not that he cared for us at all. "He shall be neither mine nor yours; divide him," said the woman who was not his mother — let him perish. Satan would have greatly rejoiced if we had been buried for ever in the depth of hell, for then God and Christ would have lost us for ever. But the Good Shepherd gave His life for the sheep.
- Deadlock. Two identical claims with the names swapped left nothing to judge by — no witness, no outward sign, no one more respectable than the other.
- Test. Solomon never meant the sword to fall. It forced hidden motives into the open.
- Heart. The verdict rested on the one thing evidence cannot fake — love that would rather lose its child than see him destroyed.
- Verdict. The test exposed both hearts, and all Israel stood in awe of the wisdom of God in their king.
- Calvary. The love that gave up its claim to save the child points to the Good Shepherd, who gave His life for sheep under a death sentence.
And the king said, Bring me a sword. And they brought a sword before the king.
Two women stood before the new king, and each claimed the same living baby. No witness could settle it, so the king called for a sword — and the whole chapter turns on how such an order could ever save a child.
Solomon asked for no more witnesses. He set the two women a test instead:
The accused woman denied the accusation, claiming that the live child was actually hers (v.22). They had brought the babies with them, but there were no witnesses. We would think that someone else must have seen which child was born first. However, Solomon did not need other witnesses. He called for a sword (v.24), and commanded that the living child should be cut in half, with each mother having a half. Of course this would not be a satisfactory arrangement, but Solomon knew who he was dealing with. The real mother protested strongly. She said she would rather let the other woman take her child than have the child killed. The other woman was happy to have the child divided, since she knew that neither of them would have him (v.26). It was not love for the child that moved her, but jealousy toward the other woman. Solomon knew that if she was dishonest enough to steal the child, the test he gave her would reveal her motives.
No witness and no outward sign could settle the case. So the king looked somewhere else:
Men let the character of the speaker influence their judgments. It is not so with God. What is important for Him is the heart, not the outward character. Solomon's judgment rests on the affections shown by the heart. Statements for and against were of equal value in this case, and the judgment could not rest on them (v. 22). The question was not which of the two women was more worthy; both were prostitutes. It was not whether the actions they complained of were likely, or had even happened; there had been no witness. It was not whether the true mother could recognize her child by an outward sign; there were none.
No one there could see where the king was going:
No sovereign better than Solomon shows that the heart of kings is unsearchable. Did one soul see into his heart when he asked for a sword? He said, "Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one and half to the other." The false mother was as willing as the true was not, but who could have expected it except the king? What sounded cruel turned out wise and kind.
For a moment the baby's life hung on the raised blade, and only one thing in the room could rescue it:
Bring a sword and divide the living child, said the king. For the moment that child was under the sentence of death. The sword hung over it, ready to strike. How could anyone save it from the carrying out of the sentence? True love found the way of salvation for it, but it was the way of sacrifice; that was the only way.
The same writer hears in the false mother's answer the voice of an enemy content to see us perish:
Our minds at once go to Calvary, and we think of the self-sacrificing love that expressed itself there. The sentence of death had been passed on us and the enemy of God claimed us as his; not that he cared for us at all. "Let it be neither mine nor yours, but divide it," said the woman whose the child was not — let it perish. Satan would have rejoiced greatly if we had been buried for ever in the depth of hell. Then God and Christ would have lost us for ever. But the Good Shepherd gave His life for the sheep.
Yet one writer notes what this sordid case says about the kingdom:
The suggestion to divide the baby with the sword was new and bold. Probably nothing like it had ever happened before in the world's history. But it drew out the feelings of the true mother so strongly that it became completely clear whose the child was… Yet the incident reminds us that Solomon's glorious reign did not reach perfection. It is unthinkable that anyone could bring such a sordid case to Solomon's greater Son, God's "Holy One" (Psalm 89:19), to settle.
- The sword threatens. With no witnesses and no outward marks, the king reached for a blade he never meant to use.
- The sword exposes. Words for and against cancelled each other out, so the evidence had to be the heart's affections.
- The sword divides love from jealousy. The real mother would rather lose her son than see him killed; the other was content for him to perish.
- The sword points to Calvary. Self-sacrificing love saved a child under sentence of death. It was the only way then, and the way the Good Shepherd took for the sheep.
- The sword measures the king. Commentators see in Solomon a picture of a greater King. Yet a case this sordid marks a kingdom still short of perfection.
And the king said, Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one, and half to the other.
Two women claimed the same baby, and the king's answer was not a verdict at all — it was a call for a sword. The cruellest order in the chapter is the moment the truth comes out.
There was no evidence to work with. One writer traces how the king moved past that dead end:
They had brought the babies with them, but there were no witnesses. We would think that someone else must have seen which child was born first. However, Solomon did not need other witnesses. He called for a sword, and commanded that the living child should be cut in half, with each mother having a half. Of course this would not be a satisfactory arrangement, but Solomon knew who he was dealing with.
Nobody in the room could have guessed what the order was for. William Kelly weighs how the order sounded against how it ended:
Was there one soul who saw into his heart when he asked for a sword and said, "Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one and half to the other"? The false mother was as willing as the true one was not, but who could have expected it except the king? What sounded cruel turned out to be wise and kind.
The king did not weigh who the women were. He weighed what they loved:
People always let the character of the speaker sway their judgment. It is not so with God. What matters to Him is the heart, not the outward character. Solomon's judgment rests on the affections the heart shows. Statements and denials were of equal value in this case, and judgment could not rest on them. What could settle the judgment was the heart showing itself... For where true ties of love exist, we try to protect at any cost what is dear to us, even at the risk of losing it for ourselves. That is the character of love. Love is not selfish: it sacrifices itself for the object it loves.
For a moment the baby's life hangs on the raised blade, and the only way out is sacrifice:
"Bring a sword and divide the living child," said the king, and for that moment the child was under the sentence of death. The sword hung over it, ready to strike. How could it escape that sentence? True love found the way of salvation for it, but it was the way of sacrifice; that was the only way... She was ready to sacrifice herself for the life and the good of her child.
The same writer sees our own case in that raised sword:
The sentence of death had been passed on us and the enemy of God claimed us as his; not that he cared for us at all. "Let it be neither mine nor yours, but divide it," said the woman whose child it was not — let it die. Satan would have rejoiced greatly if we had been buried for ever in the depths of hell, for then God and Christ would have lost us for ever. But the Good Shepherd gave His life for the sheep.
Half a child is no child. Mawson turns that on the reader:
A divided child is a dead child, a divided heart is a dead heart; and so far it is offensive to the Lord. Is it not this that He means when He says, "Would that you were either cold or hot"? True love can bear no rival; it must have its object; nothing can make up for it. We may give our time, money, talents — it will all be utterly despised. Love cries out for response, for the wholehearted and undivided response of the heart of the one loved.
This judgment showed real wisdom. One writer also marks its limit:
The suggestion to divide the baby with the sword was new and bold, and likely nothing like it had happened before in the world's history. But it drew out the feelings of the true mother so clearly that there was no doubt whose the child was... Yet the incident reminds us that Solomon's glorious reign did not reach perfection.
- Sword. With no witnesses on either side, the king used a test instead of testimony. He needed nothing more.
- Heart. The test skipped reputation and character. It went straight to the affections, because that is where God looks.
- Sacrifice. Love proved itself by being willing to lose the child rather than see it die; love is not selfish.
- Calvary. The child under the raised sword pictures our own sentence, and the way of rescue was the way of sacrifice.
- Undivided. A divided child is a dead child, and a divided heart is a dead heart; love asks for the whole response, not a share.
Then spoke the woman whose was the living child to the king, for her bowels yearned over her son, and she said, Ah, my lord! give her the living child, and in no wise put it to death. But the other said, Let it be neither mine nor thine; divide it.
Two women who worked as prostitutes came to Solomon with no witnesses and no evidence. One living baby lay between them. The king called for a sword, and this verse catches the moment the real mother's love settled the case.
Nothing in the usual toolkit of a judge was available here. One writer walks through each avenue and closes it off:
Solomon's judgment is based on the affections shown by the heart. Statements and denials were of equal value in this case, and judgment could not be based on them. What could settle the judgment was what the heart revealed. The question was not which of the two women was the more worthy — both were prostitutes. It was not whether the things they claimed were likely or had happened — there had been no witness. It was not whether the true mother could recognise her child by some outward sign — there were none.
The same writer draws a contrast. People let the character of the speaker sway their judgment, but God does not: "What is important for Him is the heart, not the outward character."
The word behind "her heart yearned" points to the body's deepest place of feeling. Commentators note it as a recurring Bible image:
We use the heart as the symbol of love, but people of the East more often used the inward parts as the symbol of the deepest feeling of love, pity and compassion. (See Genesis 43:30; 1 Kings 3:26; Jeremiah 31:20; Philippians 1:8; Colossians 3:12; 1 John 3:17.)
Older translations read, "her bowels yearned over her son."
Her plea hands the child to her rival, and that is how she saves his life:
For the moment that child was under the sentence of death; the sword ready to strike hung over it. How could it be saved from the carrying out of the sentence? True love found the way of salvation for it. But it was the way of sacrifice. That was the only way… She was prepared to sacrifice herself for the life and the good of her child.
Rossier states what love is by nature, then turns it toward Christ:
Where true ties of love exist, we seek to protect what is dear to us at any cost, even at the risk of losing it for ourselves. Love is not selfish: it sacrifices itself for the one it loves. The love of Christ has done that for us, and we can do that for Him in return: "For your sake we are being killed all the day long" (Romans 8:36).
The second woman agrees to the sword. Her agreement is not indifference but something worse:
The other woman was willing to have the child divided, knowing that neither of them would have the child. It was not love for the child that moved her, but jealousy toward the other woman.
Rossier turns this into a mirror for anyone who claims to belong to Christ:
"Divide it," says the one who is not the mother, giving way to her resentment. A person quickly sacrifices Christ when it is a matter of satisfying his own passions. Only divine wisdom can tell whether a profession is real by looking at the state of the heart. How often there is profession without reality! Where are the affections for Christ? Where is the devotion that sacrifices even its lawful advantages and rights for Him?
Nobody in the room could have predicted the king's method, and that is part of what made it wisdom:
Was there one soul who saw into his heart when he called for a sword and ordered the living child divided in two, half to each woman? The false mother was as willing as the true was not, but who could have expected that, except the king? What sounded cruel turned out wise and kind.
The child went to the woman who would rather lose him than bury him. One writer names the principle the king enforced, then follows it to the cross:
The king's judgment was this — SELF-SACRIFICING LOVE HAS THE UNTOUCHABLE RIGHT TO POSSESS AND ENJOY THE ONE IT LOVES. And all the power of his throne stood behind his judgment to carry it out. This was the law of God's universe, declared in Solomon's judgment, and there is none greater.
The sentence of death had been passed on us, and the enemy of God claimed us as his — not that he cared for us at all. Satan would have rejoiced if we had been buried for ever in the depth of hell, for then God and Christ would have lost us for ever. But the Good Shepherd gave His life for the sheep.
- Test. Solomon had no witnesses and no birthmarks to weigh. So he let the heart give the evidence.
- Yearning. The word points to the deepest place of feeling in a person. Scripture uses the same image elsewhere for compassion.
- Surrender. Real love let go. She would rather hand her son to her rival than see him killed.
- Exposure. The rival said "divide him" out of jealousy, not love. The same self-interest still sacrifices Christ to satisfy a passion.
- Verdict. Love that sacrifices itself has the right to keep what it loves. A throne stands behind that ruling. So the Good Shepherd's death secures His sheep.
And the king answered and said, Give this one the living child, and in no wise put it to death she is its mother.
Two women of the streets, one living baby, no witnesses, and a king who calls for a sword. Then one of them cries out, and the king hands the child back to her alive. How did Solomon know? What wisdom can settle a case with no evidence at all?
Ordinary justice had nothing to work with here. One writer names the one thing that decided it.
What could establish the judgment was the showing of the heart. It was not a question of which of the two women was the more worthy — both were prostitutes. Nor was it whether the things they claimed were likely or had happened — there had been no witness to it. Nor whether the true mother could recognise her child by some outward sign — there were none... For where true ties of love exist, we try to keep safe at any cost the one who is dear to us, even at the risk of losing him for ourselves. That is the character of love. Love is not selfish: it sacrifices itself for the object loved.
The order to divide the child sounds brutal. No one in the room could have guessed where it was going.
No ruler better than Solomon shows that the heart of kings is unsearchable. Look at his decision in the dispute between the mothers. Was there a single soul who saw into his heart when he asked for a sword? He said, "Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one and half to the other." The false mother was as willing as the true one was unwilling, but who could have expected it except the king? What sounded cruel turned out wise and kind.
The two replies came from two different motives.
The real mother of the child protested strongly. She said she would rather let the other woman take her child than have the child killed. The other woman was happy to have the child divided, knowing that then neither of them would have him. It was not love for the child that moved her, but jealousy toward the other woman. Solomon knew that if she was dishonest enough to steal the child, the test he set would reveal her motives.
This test reaches beyond the courtroom.
When the true mother saw the sword lifted over her child, her heart yearned for her son. The one we love means more to us than our love for him. This is how you tell what is real — this is how you tell the true mother. Among people who call themselves Christians, the one who has never found an object for his heart soon gives himself away. "Divide it," says the one who is not the mother, giving way to her resentment. People quickly sacrifice Christ when it is a matter of satisfying their own desires.
The king's sentence states a principle far larger than this case.
The king's judgment was this — SELF-SACRIFICING LOVE HAS A RIGHT THAT CANNOT BE TAKEN AWAY: TO HAVE AND ENJOY THE ONE IT LOVES. And all the power of his throne stood behind his judgment to carry it out. Solomon's judgment declared the law of God's universe, and there is no law greater than it.
The same writer then carries that law straight to the cross, where the child under sentence is us.
The sentence of death had been passed on us and the enemy of God claimed us as his; not that he cared for us at all. "He shall be neither mine nor yours; divide him," said the woman whose child it was not — let him perish. Satan would have rejoiced greatly if we had been buried for ever in the depth of hell, for then God and Christ would have lost us for ever. But the Good Shepherd gave His life for the sheep.
The decision also pictures how a coming King will govern.
He will rule and judge wisely, as shown by Solomon's decision between the two prostitutes (1 Kings 3). And the sceptre of righteousness in His hand will secure peace.
- Heart, not evidence. No witnesses, no marks on the child. Only what the two hearts revealed could decide the case.
- Sword as a tool. The order to divide sounded cruel and turned out wise and kind; no one but the king saw where it was going.
- Love gives up. The true mother would rather lose the child than see him die — love sacrifices itself for the one it loves.
- Law of the universe. Self-sacrificing love has the right to keep what it loves. The throne stands behind that verdict.
- Calvary's echo. We were the child under sentence, claimed by an enemy who did not love us; the Good Shepherd gave His life, and so He keeps us.
And all Israel heard of the judgment which the king had judged; and they feared the king, for they saw that the wisdom of God was in him, to do justice.
The chapter ends not with the verdict but with its effect: all Israel heard, stood in awe of the king, and traced his ruling back to God. One case, with no witnesses and two matching claims, showed what the wisdom of God looks like on a throne.
Solomon's wisdom is famous. Yet Scripture keeps only one full example of it from the seat of judgment, and that case began as a sordid one.
The story had a sordid beginning. But it gave King Solomon the chance to display the wisdom of God in a judgment. The Holy Spirit has kept that judgment in the Holy Scriptures for our learning. It is even more striking and interesting because it is the only clear example we have of Solomon's wisdom from the throne of judgment.
The verse says God's wisdom was in Solomon "to do justice" — older translations read "to do judgment." Nothing outward could settle this case, so the king looked past the words to the heart.
After the understanding to worship before the ark, the first sign of his wisdom, we find in Solomon "the wisdom of God … to do judgment" (v. 28). Though it concerns harlots, nothing changes this judgment. Men always let the character of the speaker sway their judgments. God does not. What is important for Him is the heart, not the outward character. Solomon based his judgment on the affections the heart showed. Statements and denials carried equal weight in this case, so they could not settle it (v. 22). Only what the heart showed could settle it.
The command to divide the child sounded cruel. No one watching could read what lay behind it.
No sovereign better than Solomon shows that the heart of kings is unsearchable. See his decision in the dispute between the mothers — whose was the dead child, and whose the living one. Did anyone see into his heart when he asked for a sword? He said, Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one and half to the other. The false mother was as willing as the true one was not, but who could have expected it except the king? What sounded cruel turned out wise and kind.
The verdict did more than settle an argument between two women.
The king's judgment was this: love that sacrifices itself has a right that cannot be taken away — the right to have and enjoy the one it loves. And all the power of his throne lay behind his judgment to give effect to it. It was the law of God's universe that was declared in Solomon's judgment, and there is none greater than it.
The same law reaches far beyond Solomon's court.
Our minds at once go back to Calvary, and we think of the self-sacrificing love that expressed itself there. The sentence of death had been passed on us and the enemy of God claimed us as his; not that he cared for us at all. "Let it be neither mine nor yours, but divide it," said the woman whose child it was not — let it perish. Satan would have been overjoyed if we had been buried for ever in the depth of hell, because then God and Christ would have lost us for ever. But the Good Shepherd gave His life for the sheep.
The same test exposes people now. What someone gives up under pressure shows what they love.
"Divide it," says the one who is not the mother, giving in to her resentment. A person quickly sacrifices Christ when it is a matter of satisfying their own passions. Only divine wisdom can tell whether a profession of faith is real, and it does so by the state of the heart. How often there is a profession without the reality! Where are the affections for Christ? Where is the devotion that sacrifices even its legitimate advantages and rights for Him?
The ruling reached the whole nation. Even so, this reign was not the last word.
The king's action produced a deep impression on the people in general… But the incident reminds us that perfection was not reached in Solomon's glorious reign. It is unthinkable that such a sordid case could be brought for decision to Solomon's greater Son, God's "Holy One" (Psalm 89:19).
- Heart, not evidence. No witnesses, two equal claims. God's wisdom worked by exposing love, not by weighing words.
- Sword. The order to divide sounded cruel and turned out wise and kind; the test no one saw coming revealed who truly loved.
- Law. The verdict declared a law for everyone: love that sacrifices itself has a right to what it loves. The king's power stood behind that right.
- Calvary. The child under the raised sword was saved by love that gave itself. So were we: the Good Shepherd gave His life for the sheep.
- Limit. Israel stood in awe of a king who carried God's wisdom. Yet the sordid case shows this reign was not the perfect one still to come.