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.