In the fifteenth year of Amaziah the son of Joash, king of Judah, Jeroboam the son of Joash, king of Israel, began to reign in Samaria, for forty-one years.
Jeroboam II takes Israel's throne and holds it longer than any other king of the north. The record's verdict on him is short: he did evil. So why did God give him forty-one years and wide success?
This king stands in a line of rulers and follows his father Joash. His character and the length of his reign do not match.
Jeroboam, king of Israel, the third successor of Jehu, succeeds Joash, his father. "He did evil in the sight of Jehovah: he did not depart from any of the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin" (v. 24). Nonetheless his reign lasted forty-one years! You might think that God always cut off kings at once when their conduct dishonoured Him. This history gives several examples. Such is the case with Zechariah, the son of this same Jeroboam (2 Kings 15:8), but it is not so here. God has other ways, and He knows how to bring them in line with His longsuffering and His mercy.
The forty-one years were not a reward. Commentators trace the growth and success of this reign to a rescue God had already promised, and to a covenant made with Israel's forefathers.
The increase of Israel's territory under Jeroboam II was considerable; his prosperity in this way corresponding with his name — whose people is many… "The sea of the plain" was the Dead Sea, making the total distance of his kingdom, north and south, almost two hundred miles… He was, no doubt, the "savior" promised under the unfortunate reign of Jehoahaz (2 Kings 13:5)… This was not for any goodness that He saw in them or Jeroboam their king, but "because of His covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob" (2 Kings 13:23).
Israel's suffering, not the king's merit, set the direction.
His pity for Israel's oppressed condition guides His ways in Jeroboam's reign… God raises up a saviour for this people in the person of this king who had brought God's displeasure on himself, just as He had done before with Joash his father (2 Kings 13:5).
Length and wealth are not the same as health. This was Israel's strongest stretch, and the trouble lay underneath.
The reign of this second Jeroboam was longer than that of any other king of Israel. Outwardly it was a time of prosperity, but there were deep-rooted problems.
Two prophets worked in these years, and one of them was ordered out of the country.
Israel was blessed with the ministries of both Hosea and Amos during Jeroboam's reign. Their writings make it clear: there was political revival under his rule, but no real moral or spiritual awakening among the people. People saw Amos as a troublemaker who disturbed the peace of the kingdom. Amaziah, the priest of Bethel, told him to flee away to the land of Judah, and "eat bread there, and prophesy there," as if God's prophet were only in it for the money, like himself.
Jonah served as a prophet in these same years. What he said to Israel matched neither their record nor their deserving.
Jonah prophesied about the time of Jeroboam II, king of Israel. He was the witness that "mercy triumphs over judgment." He foretold gracious things for Israel, though the people were still guilty and rebellious.
Amos, a prophet of the same years, read the prosperity differently. He pointed to the borders Jeroboam had won and said an invader would sweep along them.
The prophet Amos, who prophesied in the same period, announced to the house of Israel that Jeroboam's conquests would not last. The Assyrian would take them away. "I will raise up against you a nation, O house of Israel," declares the LORD, the God of hosts, "and they shall oppress you from Lebo-hamath to the Brook of the Arabah" (Amos 6:14)… Jeroboam had put far away "the day of disaster" (Amos 6:3) by taking back Israel's borders as far as Hamath the great and the sea of the plain. Look, says Amos, that day is near.
- Cause. God's longsuffering gave him forty-one years, not God's approval. The record that gives him the throne also says he never left the sins of the first Jeroboam.
- Covenant. The mercy behind the reign rested on God's promise to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. It rested on no goodness in the king or the nation.
- Reach. His name meant whose people is many, and his borders matched it. No king of the north ever reigned longer.
- Warning. Political revival is not spiritual revival. Hosea and Amos preached through these very years, and a priest ordered Amos out of the country.
- Result. The recovered border became the line of Israel's ruin. Amos warned that the Assyrian would take back everything Jeroboam had won.
And he did evil in the sight of Jehovah he departed not from any of the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin.
Jeroboam II ruled Israel for forty-one years — the longest and richest reign the northern kingdom ever had. Yet this verse sums the whole of it up as evil, which raises the question of why God let it run so long.
The words here are not written fresh for Jeroboam II. They are a refrain, and one commentator sets it beside the matching refrain used of Judah's kings:
Apart from the two exceptions already mentioned, this phrase "Nevertheless, the high places were not taken away" runs like a refrain through the history of the faithful kings of Judah. Another refrain marks the kings of Israel: "He did not depart from the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, which he made Israel to sin." These kings followed the head of their royal house in religious matters, and he was an idolater... But it is always very dangerous to settle into a system that does not seek the mind of God as its source. That stays true even when the system boasts of great antiquity.
The sins named here belong to an earlier king, Jeroboam the son of Nebat. One writer describes how he chose them, and how people still defend the choice:
Instead of asking God, we read that Jeroboam "took counsel" — clearly of men. The result was the setting up of the two golden calves. One stood at Dan, in the far north. The other stood at Bethel, as a challenge to the God of Jacob. Centuries before, Jacob had declared about that place: "This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." ... Some have argued that Jeroboam was really worshipping the LORD, but with the help of visible images. People urge this today to excuse blatant idolatry. The Bible does not support it. It says plainly: "then this thing became a sin." God does not need an image to enable people to worship Him.
That choice outlived its maker. Another writer traces where it ended:
The idolatry of Jeroboam stayed with Israel until they were led into captivity. It was a leading cause of that captivity, as it is written: "And Jeroboam drove Israel from following the LORD and made them commit great sin... They did not depart from them, until the LORD removed Israel out of his sight, as he had spoken by all his servants the prophets. And Israel was exiled from their own land to Assyria until this day."
Why did a reign under such a verdict last so long? One commentator answers:
Nonetheless his reign lasted forty-one years! One might think that God always cut off, without delay, the kings whose conduct dishonoured Him. This history gives several examples of it. That is what happened with Zechariah, the son of this same Jeroboam, but it is not so here. God has different ways, which He knows how to reconcile with His longsuffering and His mercy. His pity for Israel in its oppressed state directs His ways concerning Jeroboam's reign. He raises up a saviour for this people in the person of this very king who had incurred His displeasure.
One writer describes what lay under the prosperity of these years:
Under the reign of Jeroboam II the northern kingdom of Israel flourished as never before or after. There was great outward prosperity. So we find the prophet mentioning the rich, their great wealth and luxury, their arrogant pride and false sense of security. He also mentions the oppression of the poor. Underneath it all was an awful moral corruption, the fruit of the false worship. In this state of prosperity, immorality and false worship they did not dream of any coming disaster.
The verse does not only say Jeroboam sinned. It says his sins made Israel sin, and one commentator weighs what that adds:
Let us note here what is repeated so often in the preceding chapters, that by the sins of their kings, Israel was made to sin. The sin of an individual becomes far more serious when it becomes a stumbling block to others. Its consequences are reckoned to those who carry away the ignorant and the poorly established into the path of their own disobedience.
- Inherited. Jeroboam II did not invent his sin. He kept the calf-worship of an earlier king, following his royal house instead of the mind of God.
- Excused. Some said the images only helped people worship the true God. Scripture calls the whole arrangement a sin.
- Tolerated. Forty-one years on the throne are not God's approval. They show His longsuffering and His pity for an oppressed people.
- Gilded. Wealth and victory sat on top of deep moral corruption. In all that prosperity, Israel never dreamed of the coming disaster.
- Contagious. His sin made others sin, so their guilt is reckoned to him. That same idolatry ended in Israel's exile.
He restored the border of Israel from the entrance of Hamath as far as the sea of the plain, according to the word of Jehovah the God of Israel, which he had spoken through his servant Jonah the prophet, the son of Amittai, who was of Gath-Hepher.
Under Jeroboam II, Israel won back land it had long lost. The verse credits that gain to a word God had spoken earlier through Jonah, and it raises two questions: why God blessed Israel under a king He called evil, and why Jonah's own book says nothing about this prophecy.
One writer sets out the puzzle directly. He finds the answer not in the king, but in God's pity for a suffering people.
Jeroboam did evil in the LORD's sight. He did not turn from any of the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, who made Israel sin. Even so, his reign lasted forty-one years! One might think, and this history gives several examples, that God always cut off at once the kings whose conduct dishonoured Him. That is the case with Zechariah, the son of this same Jeroboam, but it is not so here. God has different ways which He knows how to reconcile with His longsuffering and His mercy. His pity for Israel's oppressed condition directs His ways concerning Jeroboam's reign… God raises up a saviour for this people in the person of this king who had incurred His displeasure.
If Jeroboam did not earn the rescue, neither did the nation. Another writer traces the reason back past Israel's behaviour altogether.
"The sea of the plain" was the Dead Sea. So his kingdom stretched almost two hundred miles from north to south. He was, no doubt, the "saviour" promised under the unfortunate reign of Jehoahaz… The Lord saw that Israel's affliction was very bitter, and that no one at all was left to help Israel. He had not said that He would blot out the name of Israel from under heaven. Instead He saved them by the hand of Jeroboam the son of Joash. This was not for any goodness that He saw in them or in Jeroboam their king, but "because of His covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob."
(The ESV calls it "the Sea of the Arabah.")
The two place names mark a real military gain. It came at a cost to Judah, Israel's neighbour to the south.
The territory of Hamath, the principal city of upper Syria, had at one time belonged to Solomon. Jeroboam's victory restored to Israel "the entrance of Hamath," a very important strategic position. The city of Hamath itself does not appear to have been part of the conquest. But the borders of Israel now ran again from the entrance of Hamath to the Salt Sea, that is, the Dead Sea. Taking this land enlarged Israel's territory at the expense of Judah's, since part of Damascus and of Hamath had once belonged to Judah.
The book of Jonah contains nothing about Israel's borders. This verse is the only trace of that message. It raises a wider point about what Scripture keeps.
Moreover, it is a selected revelation. It does not record everything God has revealed to His people over these 4000 years. Jonah prophesied of the restoration of the coasts of Israel from the entering of Hamath to the sea of the plain. Scripture records that God's word came true, but it does not keep the words of the prophecy itself… It is a mistake to think that the Bible holds every inspired message the Spirit of God gave to man. We have everything we need to know and to have. We do not have everything the prophets told others at different times.
Jonah is better known for his failure. Here God gives him a different title, and one writer sees purpose in it.
But the Lord knew that Jonah was a true servant of His, despite his failure. He took care to leave on record a testimony that lets us recognise him as such. This verse calls Jonah Jehovah's servant, whose prophecy He had Himself fulfilled.
The town is not a stray detail. Where Jonah came from later became evidence in a dispute among Judah's leaders.
Jonah's name means dove. God set him apart for a mission to the Gentiles, and he disliked it so much that this is likely why the religious leaders of Judah forgot that a prophet had arisen out of Galilee (John 7:52). Jonah was born in Gath-hepher, in the northern part of Palestine. He probably lived at the same time as Elisha, or else came right after him. We learn this from 2 Kings 14:25-27, which tells us that Israel enlarged its coasts, taking land back from the Syrians, just as Jonah had predicted. His book is perhaps the earliest prophetic book we have.
- Bitter — God began with Israel's misery: bitter affliction, and no one left to help.
- Covenant — the rescue rested on His promise to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, not on any goodness in the nation or its king.
- Instrument — He saved through an evil king. His longsuffering and His mercy work in ways we would not choose.
- Reach — the gift came in miles of land, from the entrance of Hamath to the Dead Sea, ground once held under Solomon.
- Servant — God records this failing prophet as His servant, and his Galilee hometown answers the leaders who claimed no prophet came from there.
For Jehovah saw that the affliction of Israel was very bitter; and that there was not any shut up, nor any left, nor any helper for Israel.
God's eye falls on a kingdom at the end of its rope: nobody left to help, and a king on the throne who did evil. What comes next is not judgment but rescue, and the whole weight of the verse rests on why.
A king who dishonoured God kept his throne. One writer finds the reason not in the king but in the state of the people.
You might think — and this history gives several examples — that God always cut short kings whose conduct dishonoured Him... but it is not so here. God has other ways, and He knows how to fit them with His patience and His mercy. His pity for Israel under oppression directs His ways in Jeroboam's reign.
The verse leaves nobody out: bond or free, no one could help. One writer still finds God's kindness in that pitiful state.
How good that the Lord gives some measure of gracious encouragement to His people, though they are in a pathetic state.
The same words appear elsewhere in Scripture. One writer applies them far beyond Israel.
"For the Lord will judge [vindicate, defend or avenge] His people and have compassion on His servants, when He sees that their power is gone and there is none shut up or left." Precious grace for Israel in the days to come — and grace now, for each and for all who feel and own their need!
The verse gives the reason God acted: He saw. It says nothing about repentance, reform, or merit. One commentator states plainly what was and was not behind the rescue.
Jeroboam was, no doubt, the "savior" promised during the unhappy reign of Jehoahaz (2 Kings 13:5). "And the Lord did not say that He would blot out the name of Israel from under heaven. Instead He saved them by the hand of Jeroboam the son of Joash." He did not do this for any goodness He saw in them or in Jeroboam their king. He did it "because of His covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob" (2 Kings 13:23).
The prophet Jonah announced this rescue in advance. He is better known for the warning he carried to Nineveh. One writer holds the two messages side by side.
Jonah's prophecy mentioned here was surely far more to his liking than the message of coming judgment God used him to bring to the people of Nineveh in the book named after him. Both messages came from God, and both show His loving heart. Whether He uses a wicked king to deliver His undeserving people or turns a wicked nation to repentance, He is God and sovereign.
Another writer marks how long this deliverance was meant to last.
In this passage Jonah appears as a prophet of grace and of a temporary deliverance for Israel.
This rescue was not a one-off. Another writer sees in it a pattern the prophets repeat.
The prophets are full of this blessed truth. God allowed, and even sent, nation after nation to overcome and discipline His rebellious people. Yet He never gave them up completely. He watched over them with endless tenderness and longing of heart, and He stepped in again and again to help them, for the sake of His own name.
The rescue was real. The prosperity it brought did the people harm.
The great prosperity and expansion under Jeroboam II seems to have corrupted the people and led them to give free rein to their evil desires and violence... Those in authority, instead of checking this spirit of lawlessness, found pleasure in it.
- Cause — He saw. The reason given for the rescue is God's own sight of bitter affliction; His "pity for Israel's state of being oppressed directs His ways."
- Condition — no helper. Israel had no helper left, bond or free. When power is gone and none is shut up or left, grace moves.
- Ground — the covenant. Not goodness in the people or their king, but God's covenant with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.
- Instrument — anyone He chooses. A wicked king and a prophet of grace both serve His purpose. He is God and sovereign either way.
- Result — a mercy misused. The prosperity that followed corrupted the people, and the deliverance proved temporary.
And Jehovah had not said that he would blot out the name of Israel from under the heavens; and he saved them by the hand of Jeroboam the son of Joash.
Jeroboam II did evil in God's sight, yet God gave him a long reign and used him to rescue Israel. The reason had nothing to do with Israel's goodness: God had never said He would erase Israel's name from under heaven.
Jeroboam's reign raises a question: why did God let an evil king last so long? One writer answers it like this:
You might think God always cut off at once the kings whose conduct dishonoured Him, and this history gives several examples of it. That is what happened with Zechariah, the son of this same Jeroboam. But it is not what happened here. God has other ways, and He knows how to fit them together with His patience and His mercy. His pity for Israel in their oppression guides how He acts in Jeroboam's reign.
The reason for this rescue did not lie in Israel or in their king. One writer traces it to a rescuer God had promised in the days of an earlier king, Jehoahaz:
He was, no doubt, the "savior" promised under the unfortunate reign of Jehoahaz. … This was not for any goodness that He saw in them or Jeroboam their king, but "because of His covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob."
The verse turns on a silence. God had never said He would erase Israel's name, and their survival hung on that unspoken word. One writer describes how God treated Israel through all their defeats:
God allowed, and even sent, nation after nation to defeat and discipline His rebellious people. Yet He never wholly gave them up. He watched over them with endless tenderness and longing of heart, and He stepped in again and again to rescue them for His own name's sake.
"By the hand of Jeroboam" is the striking phrase. God's instrument was the very king He had just condemned. The prophet who brought this good news, Jonah, also carried God's warning of judgment to the city of Nineveh:
The prophecy of Jonah mentioned here was surely far more to his liking than the message of coming judgment God gave him for the people of Nineveh. That message fills the book that carries his name. Both messages were equally of God and show His loving heart. Whether He uses a wicked king to deliver His undeserving people or turns a wicked nation to repentance, He is God and sovereign.
Prosperity returned, but God's prophets found no welcome. One writer describes how the nation treated Amos in those years:
Though there was political revival under his rule, there was no real moral or spiritual awakening among the people. People saw Amos as a troublemaker who disturbed the peace of the kingdom. Amaziah the priest of Bethel told him to run off to the land of Judah, "and there eat bread, and prophesy there" — as if God's prophet were nothing more than a hired hand like himself.
God's mercy delayed the end. It did not cancel it. One writer sets Amos's warning beside Jeroboam's victories:
Amos prophesied in the same period. He announced to the house of Israel that Jeroboam's conquests would not last long. The Assyrian would capture these from them. … By winning back Israel's borders as far as "Hamath the great" and the sea of the plain, Jeroboam had "put far away the evil day." Look, says Amos, the evil day is near at hand.
- Affliction — God saw Israel oppressed and helpless, and His pity for them shaped all that followed.
- Silence — God had never said He would erase Israel's name. That unspoken word kept them alive.
- Hand — God rescued them through a king who did evil. He is sovereign, and He can use anyone.
- Covenant — The reason lay outside Israel: God's promise to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and His own name.
- Limit — God won back the borders, but not the hearts. Amos warned that the evil day was only delayed.
And the rest of the acts of Jeroboam, and all that he did, and his might, how he warred, and how he recovered for Israel that [which had belonged] to Judah in Damascus and in Hamath, are they not written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Israel?
This closing note on Jeroboam II's reign sums up his wars and his recovery of Damascus and Hamath. The surprise is who God used for it — a king the same chapter calls evil. The question left open is how long such gains could last.
Damascus and Hamath were not border villages. They were the seats of two great powers, and David had taken them generations earlier.
Damascus and Hamath were both capitals of two once powerful kingdoms. David had conquered them long before (1 Chron. 18:3-6). Jeroboam won them back for Israel more than one hundred and fifty years after they broke away from Judah. That speaks strongly for the success and power of his armies against those hostile nations on his northern border. Hamath, called "the great" in Amos 6:2, was the chief city of upper Syria and an important strategic point. It commanded the whole valley of the Orontes, which leads to the countries to the south.
Part of this land had once belonged to Judah. Israel's gain came at the other kingdom's cost.
Jeroboam's victory restored to Israel "the entrance of Hamath," a very important strategic position. The city of Hamath itself does not seem to have been part of the conquest. But Israel's borders reached again from the entrance of Hamath to the Salt Sea, that is, the Dead Sea (cf. Joshua 3:16). Taking this land enlarged Israel's territory at Judah's expense, for part of Damascus and of Hamath had once belonged to Judah (v. 28).
Nothing in Jeroboam earned these victories. The reason lay in God's pity for a people with no one left to help them.
You might think God always cut off at once the kings whose conduct dishonoured Him, and this history gives us several examples... but it is not so here. God has other ways, and He knows how to fit them with His longsuffering and His mercy. His pity for Israel under oppression shapes His ways in Jeroboam's reign. "For the LORD saw that the affliction of Israel was very bitter... and there was none to help Israel. But the LORD had not said that He would blot out the name of Israel from under heaven, so He saved them by the hand of Jeroboam the son of Joash" (vv. 26-27).
Jonah is remembered for the warning he carried to the city of Nineveh. He also brought the prophecy mentioned in this chapter.
Jonah's prophecy mentioned here was surely far more to his liking than the message of coming judgment God gave him for the people of Nineveh, in the book named after him. Both messages came from God, and both show His loving heart. Whether He uses a wicked king to deliver His undeserving people or turns a wicked nation to repentance, He is God and sovereign.
The wide borders hid what was happening inside the nation.
Under the reign of Jeroboam II the northern kingdom of Israel flourished as never before or after. There was a great external prosperity. So the prophet mentions the rich, their great wealth and luxury, their arrogant pride and sense of security, and their oppression of the poor. Underneath it all was an awful moral corruption, the fruit of the false worship. In this state of prosperity, immorality and false worship they did not dream of any coming calamity whatever.
Political recovery is not spiritual recovery. The nation showed the difference by how it treated the prophet God sent.
Israel was blessed with the ministry of both Hosea and Amos during Jeroboam's reign. Their writings show plainly that there was political revival under his rule, but no real moral or spiritual awakening among the people. People saw Amos as a troubler of the kingdom's peace. Amaziah, the priest of Bethel, told him to flee away to the land of Judah, and "eat bread there, and prophesy there," as if God's prophet were nothing more than a hired man like himself.
The verse sends us to another record for the details — and that record is gone.
These books refer often to the chronicles of the kings of Israel or of the kings of Judah... They have nothing to do with the Word of God. Whatever the Lord did not choose to record or explain is written there. These chronicles are lost... The believer needs none of them; he has God's Word. In God's account he finds all he needs, and God's own assessment of people, events, and things.
Amos looked at the same borders and drew the opposite conclusion.
The prophet Amos... announced to the house of Israel that Jeroboam's conquests would not be long-lasting. The Assyrian would take them away... By winning back Israel's borders as far as "Hamath the great," Jeroboam had "put far away the evil day" (Amos 6:3)... But, says Amos, the evil day is near. On the eve of ruin, the prince was relaxing, thinking only of his ease (Amos 6:4).
- Cause — The victories came from God's pity for a people with no helper left, not from any good He saw in the king.
- Gift — Damascus and Hamath, capitals of two once powerful kingdoms, came back to Israel more than 150 years after they broke away.
- Reach — The borders stretched from the entrance of Hamath to the Dead Sea, gained partly at Judah's expense.
- Rot — Behind the wide borders lay great wealth, arrogant pride, oppression of the poor, and no spiritual awakening at all.
- Result — Jeroboam thought he had pushed the evil day far away; Amos said it was near, and the Assyrian would take it all back.
And Jeroboam slept with his fathers, with the kings of Israel; and Zechariah his son reigned in his stead.
Jeroboam II ruled the northern kingdom longer than any other king, and he died in peace, with the throne passing to his son Zechariah. Yet he did evil in the Lord's sight, which raises a hard question: why did God leave such a king untouched for forty-one years?
Commentators notice the length of this reign first. It breaks the pattern of swift judgment found elsewhere in these chapters.
"He did what was evil in the sight of the LORD. He did not depart from all the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, which he made Israel to sin" (v. 24). Even so, his reign lasted forty-one years! You might think God always cut off kings quickly when their conduct dishonoured Him. This history gives several examples of it. That is what happened with Zechariah, the son of this same Jeroboam (2 Kings 15:8), but it is not so here. God has different ways, which He knows how to reconcile with His longsuffering and His mercy. His pity for Israel's oppressed condition shaped His ways in Jeroboam's reign.
God rescued Israel through this same king, but the reason lay outside Israel altogether.
"He saved them by the hand of Jeroboam the son of Joash." This was not for any goodness that He saw in them or in Jeroboam their king, but "because of His covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob" (2 Kings 13:23).
Two prophets spoke during these years, and their books show what the national success was hiding.
Israel was blessed with the ministries of both Hosea and Amos during Jeroboam's reign. Their writings make one thing clear. There was political revival under his rule, but no real moral or spiritual awakening among the people. People looked on Amos as a troubler of the kingdom's peace, and Amaziah the priest of Bethel told him to run away to the land of Judah, "and eat bread there, and prophesy there," as if God's prophet were nothing but a hired man like himself.
One writer sees the same pattern today.
Today too, in many countries believers face persecution. They are told what to preach and teach, and which topics they must avoid. In some places people are even trying to have the Bible classified as hate literature, because it presents God's holy standards without compromise.
Commentators differ about the prophecy of a violent death for this king. One reference work treats it as real:
Scripture records little of this king except that he won striking victories over the Syrians. "He did not depart from all the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat." Amos announced his death by the sword.
Another writer calls the report a lie:
Amaziah, priest of the calf at Bethel, warns the king that Amos is prophesying against Israel, adding — which was a lie — that he had foretold the violent death of the king. With this slander Amaziah tried to get rid of the prophet and have him sent away to Judah. Amos was competing with him at Bethel, "the king's sanctuary… a temple of the kingdom."
Zechariah taking the throne looks like more of the same. In fact it closes an account opened four generations earlier, and one prophet writes as though the line ends with the father.
Hosea prophesied under Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz and Hezekiah, kings of Judah. Strikingly, he mentions only Jeroboam, king of Israel, and says nothing of his successors, though he prophesied under them too (Hosea 1:1). For him their history seems to stop with Jeroboam. Yet Zechariah, this man's son, was the fourth generation the Lord granted to the house of Jehu (2 Kings 10:30). But Zechariah, the last link in this chain, is in fact already rejected. He reigns only six months. God turns away from him and his successors, just as He said: "I will never again pass by them" (Amos 7:8; 8:2). Hosea says the same: "They made kings, but not through me" (Hosea 8:4).
From this death the kingdom's decline runs one way, and God's voice grows louder, not quieter.
God's eyes were on "the sinful kingdom" (Amos 9:8) and its sinful kings. From the time of Jeroboam's death, decline set in. Less than seventy years later it ended in the kingdom's final overthrow and dissolution. From this time on prophetic ministry greatly increased. "Such is the way of our gracious God," an unknown writer says, "that when judgment is near, testimony is multiplied."
- Borrowed time. Jeroboam's forty-one years were not a reward. God's pity for an oppressed people and His covenant with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob kept a bad king on the throne.
- Borrowed prosperity. Jeroboam won back borders and land, but no moral or spiritual awakening followed — success on the outside, rot underneath.
- Borrowed patience. As judgment drew near, God gave more warning, not less. Testimony multiplied through Hosea and Amos.
- Borrowed silence. Amaziah told Amos to take his message elsewhere, and the same pressure to soften God's standards falls on believers today. Commentators differ on whether Amos really foretold a violent death for the king or the priest invented it.
- Borrowed throne. Zechariah inherits as the fourth generation promised to Jehu. He is the last link, already rejected, and he reigns just six months. From this quiet death the countdown to the kingdom's dissolution begins.
In the twenty-seventh year of Jeroboam king of Israel, Azariah son of Amaziah, king of Judah, began to reign.
This verse dates a new reign in Judah by the years of Israel's king Jeroboam. Two questions meet the reader at once. Why is this king called Uzziah almost everywhere else? And why does such a short notice cover one of the longest reigns in Judah's history?
The same man appears as Azariah here and as Uzziah in Chronicles and the prophets. Commentators explain the double name in more than one way. One writer also notes who put him on the throne:
He is called Azariah (helped by Jehovah) elsewhere. The two names mean so nearly the same thing that either one could be used for him. He seems to have come to the throne, not by ordinary succession, but by the direct choice of the people. The Syrians had destroyed the princes near the end of his grandfather Joash's reign, which left the people a free hand... Their choice of Azariah was a good one, as what followed proved.
Commentators differ here. Another view keeps the two names distinct in meaning. It links the change of name to what the king did later, when he went into the temple to burn incense:
Two explanations are usually given: a copying error that confused similar letters, or that he bore two names. Neither one satisfies. The two names do not mean quite the same thing either: Azariah is "Jehovah helps," Uzziah is "My strength is Jehovah." May it not be that Azariah was his real name? And that after his daring intrusion into the sanctuary, when he was struck with lifelong leprosy, his name was changed to the related Uzziah — "My strength is Jehovah" — to mark that the "help" he had received depended on his relation to the LORD?
His mother's name carried a hope, and his early years answered it:
His was the longest continuous reign of any of the kings of Judah. His mother's name, Jah will enable, might show that she had believing hopes for her son, through the help of God. And she was not disappointed. Scripture says he "did what was right in the eyes of the LORD, according to all that his father Amaziah had done" — that is, during the earlier part of his reign.
The rest of the chapter runs through Israel's kings one after another:
Eight kings are mentioned in this chapter. Of five it is said they did evil in the sight of the Lord. One was a leper; four were murdered; one committed unspeakable cruelties.
That contrast between the two kingdoms carried a message:
Azariah (Uzziah) reigned for more than half a century. In that time he saw five of Israel's kings die, three of them murdered. There was also a gap of anarchy lasting at least eleven years. This marked contrast is probably what the prophet meant when he wrote, "Ephraim has surrounded me with lies, and the house of Israel with deceit, but Judah still walks with God, and is faithful to the Holy One." This does not mean that all Judah's ways pleased the Lord. It means that, unlike Israel, they still upheld the truth of the LORD as a nation, as given in the law and pictured in the temple's worship and service.
Kings tells us that this king became a leper, but never says why. The silence has a purpose:
Like the idolatry of Amaziah, the sin of Uzziah, reported in 2 Chronicles 26, is passed over in silence. The reason is clear. The point is to bring out the godliness of the kings of Judah. The account does not weaken it by reporting their faults and inconsistencies. It sets that godliness against the idolatry of the kings of Israel, which cried to the Lord for vengeance.
The fuller record in Chronicles supplies the cause:
God blessed Uzziah at the start for his faithfulness. But the enormous success of his career puffed him up. He thought he could take the high priest's place and offer incense on the golden altar himself... His sense of his own dignity and great importance as king led him, the civil ruler, to seize religious authority.
Prophets were at work in Judah through these years, and his success came with a condition:
Isaiah was then prophet in Judah. Hosea, Amos and Zechariah were also prophets during his reign... Then follows the statement, "as long as he sought the LORD, God made him prosper." And this is still true of all God's people.
- Helped. His name Azariah means "Jehovah helps." The people chose him for the throne, outside the ordinary line of succession.
- Strengthened. His other name, Uzziah, means "My strength is Jehovah." He reigned longer than any other king of Judah, and prospered as long as he sought the LORD.
- Contrasted. He held Jerusalem for over fifty years. In the same years the northern kingdom burned through king after king — five evil, four murdered.
- Puffed up. The help he received made him strong. The strength made him proud. He claimed the priest's place at the altar, and leprosy struck him.
- Covered. Kings records the leprosy but not the sin behind it. The focus stays on Judah's faithfulness against Israel's idolatry.
He was sixteen years old when he began to reign; and he reigned fifty-two years in Jerusalem; and his mother's name was Jecholiah of Jerusalem.
Three facts open this reign: the king's age, how long he ruled, and his mother's name. Behind them stand the longest reign in Judah, a king known by two names, and a story Kings leaves half-told.
This king appears elsewhere under a second name. One writer weighs the usual explanations and offers a better one:
The usual explanations do not satisfy. Some say a copyist confused similar letters. Others say he simply bore two names. And the two names do not mean quite the same thing. Azariah means "Jehovah helps." Uzziah means "My strength is Jehovah." Could it be that Azariah was his real name? Then came his bold intrusion into the sanctuary (2 Chron. 26:16-20), and leprosy struck him for life. At that point his name may have been changed to the related Uzziah — "My strength is Jehovah" — to mark that the "help" he had received had depended on his relation to the LORD. One fact seems to confirm this. Although 2 Chronicles always calls this king Uzziah, the Hebrew word for "help," which forms the first part of the name Azariah, comes back with marked emphasis in the account of the divine help given in his campaigns (2 Chron. 26:7, 13, 15).
He came to the throne as a boy, and the job was heavier than his years. Two things carried him: the fear of God, and God's own help.
Uzziah was one of the descendants of David who reigned in Jerusalem for fifty-two years. He was crowned king when he was only sixteen. The post carried heavy responsibility, and he was very young for it. Yet he filled it well, because the fear of God was before his eyes. The history tells us that "God helped him." God helped him in such a marked way that we read a second time how "he was marvellously helped, till he was strong" (2 Chron. 26:7, 15).
No other king of Judah held the throne this long without a break. His mother's name is worth a second look too:
His was the longest unbroken reign of any king of Judah. Manasseh ruled fifty-five years, but the king of Babylon removed him and carried him off captive, so that reign was broken. His mother's name, "Jah will enable," may show that she had godly hopes for her son, by the help of God. She was not disappointed. Scripture says he "did what was right in the sight of the Lord, according to all that his father Amaziah did" — that is, during the earlier part of his reign.
Kings names the mother of each king. Where she came from often matched how her son ruled:
Notice here, in the record of Kings, the part mothers play in how their children turn out. When these mothers come from Judah and Jerusalem, it is rare to see their sons follow the worship of false gods… On the other hand, mothers or wives who served false gods had a harmful influence on the kings… This observation should make Christian mothers realize their responsibility, and should stir them to bring up their children in the fear of the Lord.
Later in this chapter the same king becomes a leper and lives shut away. Kings does not say why. The silence has a reason:
The sin of Uzziah, reported in 2 Chronicles 26, is passed over in silence. We have said above that the reason is clear. The point is to bring out the godliness of the kings of Judah. The account does not weaken it by listing their faults and inconsistencies. It sets that godliness against the idolatry of the kings of Israel, which cried to the Lord for vengeance. Here we read only this: "And Jehovah struck the king, so that he was a leper to the day of his death, and lived in a separate house." Kings never gives the cause of his judgment.
The collapse came at the end of those fifty-two years, not at the start:
Uzziah was sixteen years old when he began to reign. He did what was right in the sight of the Lord. He sought God, and God made him prosper. But in his old age his heart was lifted up, and that ruined him. In his proud presumption he sinned against the Lord God. He died a leper, in his sixty-ninth year.
- Helped — Azariah means "Jehovah helps." Twice the record says God helped him, until he was strong.
- Young — Sixteen is young for a throne. The fear of God, not his own ability, made the start a good one.
- Home — Jecoliah means "Jah will enable." In Kings, mothers from Jerusalem rarely have sons who chase false gods.
- Long — Fifty-two years, the longest unbroken reign in Judah, and all of it rested on help from God.
- Strong — The help ran until he was strong; then pride entered, and the same man died a leper. Strength, not weakness, was the danger.
And he did what was right in the sight of Jehovah, according to all that his father Amaziah had done.
Uzziah, called Azariah in this chapter, ruled Judah longer than any other king of that line. God's first word about him is approval. But the approval comes with a measure attached. He is compared not with David, but with his father Amaziah — and that comparison shapes the rest of his story.
The approval is real. But one writer ties it to only part of a very long reign.
His was the longest continuous reign of any of the kings of Judah. Of him it is said that he "did what was right in the eyes of the LORD, according to all that his father Amaziah had done" — that is, during the earlier part of his reign. "And he sought God in the days of Zechariah, who had understanding in the visions of God: and as long as he sought the Lord, God made him to prosper."
The phrase "according to all that his father Amaziah had done" belongs to a chain running through several reigns. Each king is weighed against the one before him — and the kings singled out for the highest praise are weighed against David instead.
God traces Hezekiah's faithfulness back to the example set by David. That is all the more striking, because it is not said of the kings before him. Jotham "did what was right in the sight of Jehovah: he did according to all that his father Uzziah had done" (2 Kings 15:34); Uzziah, "according to all that his father Amaziah had done" (2 Kings 15:3); Amaziah "according to all that Joash his father had done" (2 Kings 14:3). God's Word says the same of Josiah as of Hezekiah (2 Kings 22:2), confirming that these two kings went back to what was there at the beginning.
The same lesson reaches believers now. Whose life do we copy?
Walking in a father's steps means, we judge, that the walk was good as far as it went, but it was not godliness, or obedience, of the highest kind. Of both Hezekiah and Josiah we read that David their father was their model. David was the man after God's own heart; Uzziah was not, and to remember this is to see the difference. It is the often-repeated truth, that to see what God's mind is, we must go back to the beginning. Even believers now fall into the same mistake when they make their parents' walk, or indeed the walk of some other Christians whom they admire most, their standard, instead of the walk of the only perfect Example (see 1 John 2:6).
Copying Amaziah meant copying a divided heart.
"And he did what was right in the sight of the Lord, but not with a perfect heart." "Yet not like David his father; he did according to all that Joash his father did." Just like this is the lack of heart-devotedness in the children of God.
The same flaw reappeared in the son, in a different form.
Uzziah follows him and does what is right in the eyes of the LORD, according to all that his father did. That is, he served without a perfect heart in the first part of his reign, and failed openly at the end. The same evil was in Uzziah as in Amaziah; only it showed itself in a different way. Amaziah was lifted up in heart, and then marched straight into defeat and captivity. Uzziah, once he was strong, sinned by going into the temple of the Lord to burn incense on the altar. How often does prosperity, far more than adversity, test the saints of God!
His success itself became the danger. One writer marks the turn.
"And his name spread far abroad; for he was marvellously helped, till he was strong. But when he was strong, his heart was lifted up to his destruction." Of all the words ever set side by side, few are more remarkable than these.
One summary of his life holds both halves together, and explains his other name.
Uzziah is a solemn instance of one walking well until he was "strong," and of one not chosen of God attempting to exercise priestly service. His history shows the truth that "it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." He is called Azariah in 2 Kings 14:21 and 2 Kings 15, and Ozias in Matthew 1:8-9.
- Right — God credits Uzziah with doing what was right. The approval is genuine.
- Measured — but the measure is Amaziah, not David. Only Hezekiah and Josiah are praised for going back to the beginning.
- Inherited — Amaziah's record was right, but not with a perfect heart. The son copied that half-hearted pattern with the good.
- Prospered — while he sought God, God made him prosper. The blessing lasted as long as the seeking.
- Strong — once he was strong, his heart was lifted up. Prosperity tested him harder than trouble ever did.
Only, the high places were not removed the people still sacrificed and burned incense on the high places.
Azariah — also called Uzziah — ruled in Jerusalem for fifty-two years and did what was right in the Lord's eyes. But one word of reserve follows the praise, so what was wrong with the hill-top shrines he left standing, and why does that one word matter?
This reservation is not unique to Uzziah. Older translations open the verse with "Only." One writer hears that word as a refrain running through Judah's kings, and links it to the prophet Micah.
"Only," the account adds, "the high places were not removed: the people still sacrificed and burned incense on the high places" — always the usual refrain for Judah, just as the calves of Jeroboam were for Israel. The prophet Micah refers to these two things to explain God's judgment on His people: "For the transgression of Jacob is all this, and for the sins of the house of Israel. Where does the transgression of Jacob come from? Is it not from Samaria? And where do the high places of Judah come from? Are they not from Jerusalem?" (Micah 1:5).
The shrines did not start as temples to foreign gods. One writer traces what they were at first, and when they turned into disobedience.
They were not necessarily connected with idolatry. In fact, at the beginning they were devoted to the true worship of God. To some extent they were places where He Himself in grace recognised the need and met with His people. But this was not according to the proper order which He Himself had provided. Later on He established His centre, placed His name at Jerusalem, and set the temple of His glory there. After that, the worship of the high places was direct disobedience to His will, and it was bound to become more and more connected with the idolatry to which the people were always prone.
If God blessed these kings, did He overlook the shrines? One writer answers that question. He is speaking about the worship of God in the wrong place, not about idol worship.
Remember, it is not idol worship, but the worship of God in "high places," that I am speaking of. God met these good men, honoured and blessed them, as He does thousands in the systems of today... These godly men had grown up and been educated in the evil. The question of whether it was right had never come up in their consciences. So God blessed and owned their faithfulness up to the light they had... Did He therefore approve, sanction or even overlook the direct breaking of His own word? He has answered this Himself with unmistakable clearness: "Nevertheless the high places were not taken away." Again and again this qualifies the approval He gives to the otherwise faithful acts of His servants. It shows that He never lost sight of the sin, however unaware of it they may have grown up.
Why does one shrine left standing matter so much? One writer answers with a picture from metal, and with a question about where a custom came from.
A straw in a piece of cast iron is enough to make it break when the right occasion comes. This straw was the keeping of the high places... The kings of Judah did not govern themselves by David their father. They were usually content to take their starting point from the reign of Solomon, who had not abolished the high places. But it is always very dangerous to settle into a system that does not look to the mind of God as its source. That stays true even when the system boasts of great antiquity.
Samuel Ridout, quoted earlier, brings the same point forward to worship now.
God Himself has provided a Centre where His people can gather. To ignore that Centre, to turn to human thoughts, and to choose places and ways of worship that the word of God does not provide for, is really to worship in the high places. Many do this in complete sincerity, and God, as we said, meets His people in grace according to the measure of their faith.
- Only. One word of reserve follows a long, honoured reign, and it shows God never lost sight of the sin.
- Origin. The high places began as worship of the true God, not as idol shrines. Once God set up His own centre, going elsewhere became plain disobedience.
- Blessing. God blessed sincere men up to the light they had. He never approved the thing they left standing.
- Pattern. Judah's kings took their starting point from Solomon, who left the high places standing, instead of from David. An old custom is not safe just because it is old.
- Cost. A tolerated flaw is the straw that breaks the iron later. Today it shows up as places and ways of worship the word of God never provided for.
And Jehovah smote the king, so that he was a leper to the day of his death, and dwelt in a separate house. And Jotham the king's son was over the house, judging the people of the land.
God struck a king of Judah, and this verse gives no reason for it: he became a leper, lived apart, and his son took over the kingdom. Why strike a king whose reign was long and mostly good — and why does this account never say what he did?
The account gives the sentence but not the crime. One writer ties the silence to the way this book handles Judah's kings:
The sin of Uzziah, reported in 2 Chronicles 26, is passed over in silence. The reason is clear. The aim is to bring out the godliness of the kings of Judah, without weakening it by telling of their faults and inconsistencies, and to set it against the idolatry of the kings of Israel, which cried to the Lord for vengeance. Here we find only, "And the LORD touched the king, so that he was a leper to the day of his death, and he lived in a separate house," with no mention of the cause of his judgment.
Chronicles supplies what this account leaves out. The king is Uzziah, called Azariah in this chapter, and one writer traces his act back to its cause:
Whatever the immediate motive, we know the main cause of his irreverent act. It was pride — the true "original sin," that hideous parent-sin of every sin that follows, whether among angels or among men. "He was marvelously helped, till he was strong. But when he was strong, he grew proud, to his destruction." His name meant "the strength of the LORD." How happy he would have been if he had seen that no one is strong except in His strength.
His pride took a particular shape: the throne reached for the altar. One writer sees the same sin at work long after:
The thought of his own dignity, of his great importance as king, led him — the civil power — to seize religious authority. This same sin is one of the many features of the Christian world today. The Lord judges Uzziah by striking him with leprosy. He loses the very authority he was so proud of, whose honour he had not given to the Lord, and it passes to his son Jotham years before his death.
Another writer points to what God's kindness should have done in him: "the grace of God towards him should have kept him humble and shown his soul how weak he was" (C Crain).
He reached for access God had not given him, and lost the access he had:
He knew that burning incense was the work of the priests alone — a duty and privilege for the sons of Aaron and no one else. The judgment matches his sin. He dared to take the office of the priest and do what the law forbade him. Now, as a leper, he cannot come into the temple. He loses the privilege of an ordinary Israelite, he is cut off from the congregation, and from now on he must live in a separate house. He cannot do his work as king either; in today's language, someone rules as regent in his place.
The separate house says more than one man's disgrace. It shows where every person stands before God, whatever their rank:
Perhaps this is written, among other things, to remind us that the very best man on earth — the highest ruler of Judah's kingdom, the most honoured man in the world — stands in the widest contrast with THE KING, THE LORD OF HOSTS. King Uzziah was a leper, and he lived outside the camp. This shows us that sinful man, however high his office and dignity, is unfit for the presence of God. It shows that man has no way at all of cleansing the leprosy of sin. Unless God undertakes to meet him with healing mercy, he must remain unclean.
One writer also sees a picture of the whole nation here: "Uzziah was a type of that nation which, leprous like him, must bear being cut off from the Lord's house, and be shut up in a separate one until the judgment is past" (The Bible Treasury).
The verse also marks the start of Jotham's rule. One writer notes where the son stopped short of his father:
Jotham ruled as regent over the kingdom after the judgment of God had fallen on his father… So we read, "And he did what was right in the eyes of the LORD according to all that his father Uzziah had done, except he did not enter the temple of the LORD." He avoided the folly of his headstrong father.
- Strength. Uzziah's name meant the strength of the LORD. God helped him until he was strong — then he grew proud, and that destroyed him.
- Pride. Writers trace his sin to pride — the parent-sin of every other sin, among angels and among men.
- Overreach. The king, who held civil power, seized religious authority. He burned incense in the temple — work the law gave to the sons of Aaron alone.
- Exclusion. The judgment matched the sin. He reached for the priest's privilege and lost even an ordinary Israelite's, shut out of the temple and off the throne.
- Separation. The separate house pictures man at his highest, still unfit for God's presence and unable to cleanse himself. Only God's healing mercy can make him clean.
And the rest of the acts of Azariah, and all that he did, are they not written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Judah?
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And Azariah slept with his fathers, and they buried him with his fathers in the city of David; and Jotham his son reigned in his stead.
This verse closes the reign of Azariah — the king Chronicles calls Uzziah — with the bare formula: death, burial, and the son who follows. It says nothing about why he spent his last years shut away. To read it well, notice what the writer records and what he leaves out.
The book of Kings tells us he was struck with leprosy. It never says what he did to deserve it. One writer shows that this gap fits a pattern across the whole book:
The sin of Uzziah, reported in 2 Chronicles 26, is passed over in silence... The point is to bring out the godliness of the kings of Judah, without weakening it by an account of their faults and inconsistencies. The contrast is with the idolatry of the kings of Israel, which cried to the Lord for vengeance. Here we find only, "And Jehovah struck the king, so that he was a leper to the day of his death, and lived in a separate house" (v. 5). The text never tells us the cause of his judgment.
Chronicles supplies the cause that Kings leaves out. Success, not weakness, undid him. Even his name carried the lesson he forgot:
We know the primary cause of his irreverent act. It was pride, the truly "original sin," that hideous parent-sin of all the sins that follow, whether among angels or among men (1 Tim. 3:6; Ezek. 28:2, 17). "He was marvellously helped till he was strong. But when he was strong, his heart was lifted up to his destruction." His name meant "Strength of Jehovah." How happy it would have been for him if he had realised that only in His strength is anyone truly strong.
Verse 7 hands the throne to Jotham, but Jotham had already been ruling. Uzziah lost the very thing he grasped at:
The Lord judges Uzziah by striking him with leprosy. The priests drive him out of the temple, and he stays shut out from the congregation of Israel until his death. He was so proud of this authority, yet he had not given its honour to the Lord. It passes from him to his son Jotham years before his death. Such human pretension could not be tolerated. Carrying it into the house of God was a terrible defilement. So Uzziah dies, cut off from the blessings of that house. He had disregarded the dignity of the high priesthood — a picture of Christ's — which the Lord had established there.
Commentators differ on how to read the burial. Chronicles adds a detail Kings leaves out: they buried him in a field belonging to the kings, because he was a leper. One writer sees honour withheld to the end:
They would not lay his leprous body in their "Westminster Abbey." They buried him in a field — in the ground, perhaps — next to the tombs of their kings.
Another writer sees the same burial as a nod to his earlier years:
We are not told how long he lived after his leprosy broke out. But at his death they buried him among his fathers — at least some recognition of his former faithfulness.
Verse 6 sends the reader to "the Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Judah" — a source that no longer exists. That loss costs the believer nothing:
These chronicles were drawn up during the reign of all the rulers of those times, whether Jewish or Gentile. They have nothing to do with the Word of God. What it has not pleased the Lord to record or explain is found there. These chronicles have been lost... The believer needs none of them; he has God's Word. There, in God's account, he finds everything necessary for him, along with God's own assessment of people, events and things.
One writer notes that a prophet dated his vision of God's glory by this king's death:
The chapter tells us that the prophet had this vision of glory "in the year that king Uzziah died." But why is Uzziah brought in like this? May it be, among other things, to remind us of this? The very best man on earth, the highest ruler of Judah's kingdom, the most honoured man in the world, stands in the widest possible contrast with THE KING, THE LORD OF HOSTS. King Uzziah was a leper and lived outside the camp. This shows us that sinful man, however high his office and dignity, is unfit for the presence of God; that man has no resources at all for cleansing the leprosy of sin; and that unless God undertakes to meet him with healing mercy, he must remain unclean and unfit for fellowship with the God of holiness.
- Strength — He was "marvellously helped till he was strong." Strength, not weakness, opened the door to his fall.
- Pride — Success lifted up his heart. Writers call pride the parent-sin of every other sin, among angels and men alike.
- Loss — He lost the very thing he grabbed at. Shut out from the house of God, he saw his throne pass to Jotham while he still lived.
- Grave — He slept with his fathers, yet apart from them. Writers read this either as honour withheld or as respect for his earlier faithfulness.
- Contrast — In the year this leper king died, a prophet saw THE KING, THE LORD OF HOSTS. No human dignity fits a man for God's presence without healing mercy.
In the thirty-eighth year of Azariah king of Judah, Zechariah the son of Jeroboam reigned over Israel in Samaria, six months.
This verse opens the last stretch of the northern kingdom's history: a king who lasted half a year, then a run of murders and seized thrones. Why did Jeroboam II's son fall so fast, and why does Scripture say so little about the years just before him?
The dates in Kings leave a gap between Jeroboam II's death and the start of his son's reign. One commentator notes that God chose not to fill it in.
Anarchy probably ruled during that period with no king. Hosea prophesied about this time (as regards Israel, see Hosea 1:1), and he seems to refer often to this season of lawlessness and revolution... But God has said next to nothing about this period in between, and we dare not say more. To speculate here would be worse than folly, since God's wisdom has chosen to give us no record of it. Where nothing useful would come of it, He always hides the sins and errors of His people from curious eyes.
The silence does not hide who was really in charge.
Scripture does not give us details about all that happened then. It does show us that despite all that may happen in political affairs to earthly rulers, God is in ultimate control, and He keeps His promises.
Zechariah's place in the family line explains his six months. A word spoken long before had set a limit on Jehu's line.
Zechariah was the son of Jeroboam II and the fourth and last ruler of the dynasty of Jehu. So the word of the LORD was literally fulfilled (2 Kings 10:30). His reign lasted only six months. Shallum assassinated him in public.
Jehu himself had shed blood, and God had said nothing about it. One writer shows how the same word that rewarded this family also judged it.
The time had come when God would punish the house of Jehu for the blood shed at Jezreel, and bring the kingdom of the house of Israel to an end (Hosea 1:4). The Lord had kept silent about the blood Jehu shed at Jezreel. He had not spoken of it to anyone — not even to guilty Jehu. God had told Jehu that he had done right in His eyes and would be rewarded (2 Kings 10:30). It might have seemed to Jehu that God approved everything he had done. Far from it! The word of the Lord — "Your sons shall sit on the throne of Israel to the fourth generation" — had been carried out as reward. Now His word was being carried out in retribution and in righteous judgment. What a God is ours! Who but He can weigh in the same balance both the acts He approves and those He condemns, to reward and to punish them?
Even the king's name pointed to God's long memory.
Zechariah's name — Jah has remembered — was strikingly fitting. God did not forget the wholesale slaughter of men — many of them, perhaps, better than their executioner. Though a century had passed, Jah remembered, and the reckoning for blood fell, as it had to, on the fifth and final member of the murderer's line.
Half a year was still time to turn back.
Zechariah did not use the time allotted him to repent! His time was soon up. After six months he was openly assassinated "before the people," by Shallum who had "conspired against him."
Zechariah's murder was not an isolated crime. It was one of many.
We are touching the reason for all these acts of violence: each is wanting to seize power for his own gain. When conscience no longer speaks up, sinners are given over to every instinct of their evil nature.
Yet as the darkness thickened, God did not go quiet.
God's eyes were upon "the sinful kingdom" (Amos 9:8), and upon its sinful kings. From the time of Jeroboam's death, decline set in. Less than seventy years later it ended in the kingdom's final overthrow and collapse. From this time on, prophetic ministry greatly increased. "Such is the way of our gracious God," an unknown writer says, "that when judgment is near, then testimony is multiplied."
- Remembered. Zechariah's name means "Jah has remembered." A century after Jehu shed blood at Jezreel, God had not forgotten. The reckoning fell on the last king of his line.
- Promised. God told Jehu his sons would reign to the fourth generation. Zechariah was that fourth — so the same word that seated him also set his limit.
- Weighed. God rewards what He approves and punishes what He condemns. He weighs both in the same balance, and both fell on the same house.
- Warned. As the kingdom slid toward its end, prophetic ministry increased. When judgment draws near, God multiplies testimony.
- Wasted. Zechariah had six months to repent and did not use them. When conscience falls silent, men grab for power until the kingdom collapses.
And he did evil in the sight of Jehovah, according as his fathers had done he departed not from the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin.
Zechariah ruled Israel for six months, and the record gives him one sentence of judgment — the same one it gives the kings before him. Two questions follow: what were "the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat," and why would no king of Israel leave them?
Zechariah inherited a throne, and with it a way of life he never questioned. One writer sets the kings of Israel beside the kings of Judah and finds the difference in energy.
Zechariah, the last king descended from Jehu, reigns only six months at Samaria. As we have seen, the godly kings of Judah lacked the energy to abolish the high places. Solomon's negligence about this had worked out with disastrous results among his successors, who were used to patterning themselves on the glorious head of their dynasty. The kings of Israel, by contrast, had walked resolutely in the custom set up by Jeroboam I.
In these quotations, "Jehovah" is the name the ESV prints as "the LORD." The Jeroboam named in this verse is not Zechariah's own father, who carried the same name. Another writer places Zechariah in the family line:
Zechariah was the son of the second Jeroboam and he reigned only six months in Israel. He was the fourth in the line of Jehu to reign, and the last, as the Lord had told Jehu.
The phrase in this verse points back to the first king of the ten northern tribes. What he set up was not one idol but a whole system of worship.
Jeroboam judged by human wisdom and forgot the fear of Jehovah. He made two golden calves to break the powerful links of a shared worship, so that those links would no longer tie his subjects to Judah and Jerusalem. He had to set up a new priesthood, and he devised everything to do with worship out of his own heart. Israel's sin became an established rule, and the phrase, "Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, which he made Israel to sin," became the sad title of their first king.
If the calves were so wrong, why did the kings of Israel never remove them? One writer answers that the idols were holding the kingdom together.
The golden calves were a political religion, and it suited the policy of the ten tribes to keep it. Without calves of gold, the ten tribes would have gone back to their allegiance to Jehovah in Jerusalem. The calves were the great means of having another centre. If Jerusalem had been the one centre for the ten tribes as well as for the two, the twelve tribes of Israel would have united. And if they had united in the worship of God, they would have united under the same king. So Jeroboam devised this very crafty scheme to make the split between the two kingdoms clear, wide, and always widening. To make a kingdom he had to make a religion.
The wording of this verse is not unique to Zechariah. The same words follow king after king through the chapter.
Like a death knell, the Spirit marks this man out with the same sad words again and again: "Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, which he made Israel to sin." One chapter alone repeats it four times (2 Kings 15:9, 18, 24, 28). There is something appalling about it. This special repetition marks out how terrible this man's sin is in God's sight. It strikes every true heart with a sense of how awful it is. Personal sins are bad enough, but to turn away God's people from the centre which He has set up — what could be worse?
Zechariah's death ended the line of Jehu, just as the Lord had said. His name carried a meaning that fit that ending.
Zechariah's name — Jah has remembered — was strikingly significant. God did not forget the wholesale slaughter of men, many of them perhaps better than their executioner. Though a century had passed, Jah remembered. He called the fifth and last member of the murderer's line to account for the blood that had been shed.
Yet as things grew worse, God sent more warning, not less:
God's eyes were upon "the sinful kingdom," and its sinful kings. From the time of Jeroboam's death, decline set in. Less than seventy years later it ended in the kingdom's final overthrow and break-up. From this time on, prophetic ministry greatly increased. "Such is the way of our gracious God," an unknown writer says, "that when judgment is near to approach, then testimony is multiplied."
- Inherited — Zechariah did evil "as his fathers had done." He never chose the sin. He just never left it, and that was enough.
- Invented — Jeroboam's sin was worship he devised out of his own heart: two calves, a new priesthood, a rival centre to Jerusalem.
- Useful — the calves lasted because they were a political religion. To keep the kingdom, the kings kept the idols.
- Repeated — the same refrain tolls four times in this one chapter. Personal sins are bad enough; turning God's people from His centre is worse.
- Remembered — "Jah has remembered." A century on, God called the last man of Jehu's line to account for blood shed long before. As judgment drew near, He multiplied His warnings.
And Shallum the son of Jabesh conspired against him, and smote him before the people, and slew him, and reigned in his stead.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And the rest of the acts of Zechariah, behold, they are written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Israel.
Zechariah ruled Israel for six months before Shallum killed him in public. The verse ends his story by pointing to another book, which raises two questions: what was that book of the chronicles, and why has God kept so little of what it held?
The chronicles named here were royal state records, and one writer draws a sharp line between them and Scripture:
Reference is made quite frequently in these books to the chronicles of the kings of Israel or to those of the kings of Judah. These chronicles were drawn up during the course of the reign of all the sovereigns of those times, whether Jewish or Gentile. They have nothing to do with the Word of God. Whatever the Lord did not choose to record or explain is written there. These chronicles have been lost; perhaps someone will one day find some fragments of them. The believer has no need for any of them; he has God's Word. There in God's account he finds all that is necessary for him as well as the divine evaluation of people, events, and things. Writings that are not inspired may record certain deeds, and record them very exactly. But nothing more than human evaluation ever comes with those deeds.
Yet the lost book was not wasted. The writer of Kings drew on it, and another commentator notes who was guiding his hand:
In various places reference is made to books, which contain more about the life of the king in question, on which the writer may have based his accounts... several times to the book of the chronicles of the kings of Israel (1 Kings 14:19; 2 Kings 15:31)... The author of the books of Kings was able to use these "references" under the guidance of the Holy Spirit while writing his God-inspired work.
Whatever those records held about Zechariah, Scripture's account of his reign is short and gives him no credit:
Zechariah was the son of the second Jeroboam and he reigned only six months in Israel. He was the fourth in the line of Jehu to reign, and the last, as the Lord had told Jehu (ch. 10:30). He continued the evil ways of the kings of Israel before him. Nothing is said in his favour. Then another Israelite, Shallum, conspired against him and killed him in public (v. 10). So Shallum seized the throne for himself.
Comparing dates leaves roughly eleven years unaccounted for between Jeroboam's death and his son's accession. One commentator uses that gap to teach a discipline about reading Scripture:
The people were probably unwilling to have Zechariah succeed his father to the throne. He appears to have been quite unpopular with most of the nation, for Shallum killed him "before the people" without fear. But God has said next to nothing about this in-between period, and we dare not say more. To speculate here would be worse than folly, since God's wisdom has chosen to give us no record of it; and where no useful end is served, He always hides the sins and errors of His people from the gaze of the curious. Dates elsewhere in Scripture do show that such a gap must have come between the end of Jeroboam's reign and the start of his son's, though God has passed over it in silence.
The next verse explains the whole reign. God promised Jehu that his sons would hold the throne to the fourth generation, and Zechariah was the fourth. Rossier reads God's dealings with that family from both sides at once:
The Lord had kept silent about the blood shed by Jehu at Jezreel... On the contrary, it might have seemed to Jehu that God approved everything he had done. God had said to him, "You have done well in carrying out what is right in My sight," and, I will reward you. Far from it! The Lord had raised him up for judgment and approved him in that. Even so, the time had come when this king's cunning and furious violence must meet their punishment. The Lord's word, "Your sons shall sit on the throne of Israel to the fourth generation," had come true as reward. Now the same word was coming true in retribution and righteous judgment. What a God is ours!
Zechariah means "Jah has remembered," and the timing of his death gives the name its edge:
Zechariah's name — Jah has remembered — carried a striking meaning. God did not forget the wholesale slaughter of men — many of them, perhaps, better than their executioner. Though a century had passed, Jah remembered. He made the inevitable reckoning for blood with the fifth and final member of the murderer's line.
Commentators count the line differently. Grant calls Zechariah the fourth in Jehu's line, matching the promise of four generations. Knapp calls him the fifth and final member of Jehu's house.
- Remembered. The king's name means "Jah has remembered," and his fall showed that a century's delay is not forgetfulness in God.
- Recorded. Men's chronicles kept the deeds. Scripture keeps God's estimate of the man — and only Scripture has survived.
- Rationed. The Spirit used those state records but kept only what serves the reader — six months, with nothing said in Zechariah's favour.
- Reserved. A silent gap sits behind this reign, and where God gives no record we are not to invent one.
- Requited. The same word that rewarded Jehu with four generations closed his house in judgment. God weighs reward and retribution in one balance.
This was the word of Jehovah which he spoke to Jehu saying, Thy sons shall sit upon the throne of Israel unto the fourth [generation]. And so it came to pass.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Shallum the son of Jabesh began to reign in the thirty-ninth year of Uzziah king of Judah; and he reigned a full month in Samaria.
Shallum's reign is the shortest in Israel's history. He murdered his way to the throne of the northern kingdom and held it for four weeks. His one month raises a hard question: what is power worth when God keeps the record?
Shallum killed Zechariah and took his place. Within a month Menahem did the same thing to him.
But if Zechariah's reign was short (6 months), that of Shallum was much shorter — only one month! Those who grasp after power are very soon left powerless. Menahem, the son of Gadi, decided to show Shallum that two could play the game of murdering a king. Notice that in both of these cases the elders of Israel had no spiritual power to choose a man for king who might be a capable and faithful ruler, so a man of violence could seize power for himself. Of course Israel was in such a state of disobedience to God that they would not even consider asking God who should be king.
Shallum's name carries the sense of repayment, and his own end matched it.
This murderer was not allowed to live long in his stolen power — only four short weeks — and then he met the just reward of his crime. His name (a very common one in Israel) means repayment, or retribution. He paid back the king before him, and Menahem, the king who followed him, paid him back the same way. It is the old principle of just retribution in kind. The murder of two rulers, Zechariah and Shallum, within half a year speaks loudly of the state of anarchy in the kingdom at that time. It was, as the prophet said, "bloodshed follows bloodshed" (Hosea 4:2).
Behind the murders lies a simple motive, repeated by one king after another.
Here we touch the reason for all these acts of violence: each man wants to seize power for his own gain. When conscience no longer speaks up, sinners are handed over to every instinct of their evil nature.
Another writer traces the chaos back one step further, and then draws it forward.
The murderer occupied the throne only one month. Shallum means "requital." As he did to Zechariah, so Menahem did to him. Israel had abandoned God, and everything was now lawlessness. Turning away from God and from true worship came first. That opened the way for moral corruption and lawlessness. The same is true of this present Christian age.
Another writer points to what prosperity under the previous king, Jeroboam II, had done to the people.
The great prosperity and expansion under Jeroboam II seems to have corrupted the people and led them to give free rein to their evil desires and violence. Those in authority, instead of holding back this spirit of lawlessness, took pleasure in it.
The record God left of Shallum is bare.
He seems to have been very busy gaining the throne, and then trying to defend himself against his cruel successor. That is why God does not mention him walking in the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat. Perhaps he had no time for matters of religion. At any rate, God, who notices even a cup of cold water given for the Lord's sake, has nothing good to record about him!
God misses nothing worth remembering. That He found nothing here is the sharpest thing said about Shallum. The Bible's other record of the kings passes over him too.
The Book of Chronicles does not even mention the reign of Shallum, nor in fact the reign of Zechariah in Israel.
The same writer sets this line of kings against the only life that reversed the pattern.
Our Lord Jesus stated the principle that "everyone who exalts himself will be humbled" (Luke 14:11). This principle is well illustrated in the lives of these kings. The opposite, "he who humbles himself will be exalted," is most beautifully seen in the life of our Lord Jesus. Philippians 2:5-11 shows us how deeply He humbled Himself and how highly God has exalted Him.
Shallum climbed and fell in a month. Christ went down, and God raised Him to the highest place.
- Departure — Turning from God came first, and prosperity fed the rot. The murders and coups grew out of it, and the same pattern marks this present age.
- Silence — When conscience stopped speaking, each man grabbed at power for himself. Nothing held him back.
- Requital — Shallum's name means recompense; he took a throne by blood and lost it by blood within four weeks.
- Record — God notices even a cup of cold water given for His sake, yet He has nothing good to say of this king at all.
- Reversal — Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled. Christ humbled Himself, and God exalted Him — the road Shallum never took.
And Menahem the son of Gadi went up from Tirzah, and came to Samaria, and smote Shallum the son of Jabesh in Samaria, and slew him, and reigned in his stead.
Menahem comes up from Tirzah to Samaria and ends a four-week reign the same way it began — with murder. Commentators read the chapter as a picture of a nation where conscience has gone quiet and no one asks God anything.
Shallum had killed Zechariah to take the crown. One writer notes how quickly he lost it.
If Zechariah's reign was short (six months), that of Shallum was much shorter — only one month! Those who grasp after power are very soon left powerless. Menahem, the son of Gadi, decided to show Shallum that two could play the game of murdering a king… Notice that in both of these cases the elders of Israel had no spiritual power. They could not choose a capable and faithful man to be king, so a man of violence could seize power for himself. Israel was so disobedient to God that they would not even think of asking Him who should be king.
Shallum's name means repayment. One writer sees that meaning worked out on the man who bore it.
This assassin was not left long in his stolen power — only four weeks. Then he met the just reward of his crime. His name (a very common one in Israel) means recompense, or retribution. He paid back the king before him, and Menahem, the king after him, paid him back in turn. It is the old principle of God's government — just retribution in kind. Two rulers, Zechariah and Shallum, were murdered within half a year. That says much about the lawless state of the kingdom at the time. It was, as the prophet testified, "bloodshed follows bloodshed" (Hosea 4:2).
Behind two murders in six months lies a single motive. One commentator names it.
Shallum conspired against Zechariah, killed him, and reigned in his place. His crime gained him little, for at the end of a month he fell beneath the blows of Menahem. Here we touch the reason for all this violence: each man wants to seize power for his own gain. When conscience no longer speaks, sinners are handed over to every instinct of their evil nature.
These murders did not catch God by surprise. The same writer traces them back to an old account, left unsettled for years.
Zechariah, the last king descended from Jehu, reigned only six months at Samaria… Here begins the last stretch of stolen thrones and murders before the ten tribes were carried away. Hosea, the prophet of Israel, had spoken of this time: "All of them are hot as an oven, and they devour their rulers. All their kings have fallen, and none of them calls upon me" (Hosea 7:7)… The Lord had kept silent about the blood Jehu shed at Jezreel. He had not spoken of it to anyone, not even to guilty Jehu. Instead God had said to him, "You have done well in carrying out what is right in my eyes" (2 Kings 10:30). So it might have seemed to Jehu that God approved everything he had done. Far from it!
The verse names the place Menahem came from and the father he came from. One writer finds meaning in both.
Menahem, Josephus asserts, and not without reason, was general of the Israelite forces. He came up from Tirzah to kill Shallum. Later he set out "from Tirzah" again — where the main army was most likely posted — on his campaign of slaughter against the city of Tiphsah. Both facts imply as much… His name is found nowhere else in Scripture, and neither is his father's (Gadi, meaning fortunate) — a peculiar and somewhat remarkable circumstance, if not a significant one.
These kings climbed by force and fell by force. Set against them, one commentator points to the only Man who went the other way.
Our Lord Jesus stated the principle that "everyone who exalts himself will be humbled" (Luke 14:11). This principle is well illustrated in the lives of these kings. The opposite, "he who humbles himself will be exalted," is most beautifully seen in the life of our Lord Jesus. Philippians 2:5-11 shows us how deeply He humbled Himself and how highly God has exalted Him.
- Grasp — Shallum seized a throne by murder and held it four weeks. Those who snatch at power are soon left with none.
- Payback — Shallum's own name meant repayment, and Menahem paid him back. God's government repays in kind.
- Silence — Two killings in six months, one cause: conscience had gone quiet, so each man took what he wanted.
- Reckoning — God said nothing for years about the blood Jehu shed at Jezreel. His silence was not approval. The account came due on Jehu's last descendant.
- Reverse — Every king here lifted himself up and fell. Christ humbled Himself, and God exalted Him — the one throne no one can steal.
And the rest of the acts of Shallum, and his conspiracy which he made, behold, they are written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Israel.
Shallum's whole reign takes three verses. The last one sends everything else about him to a record now lost, and names his conspiracy as the one act worth listing. Two questions follow: what book is that, and why is a plot the only thing attached to a king's name?
Shallum took the throne of Israel's northern kingdom by murdering Zechariah. One month later Menahem did the same to him. Even the charge of following the sins of Jeroboam is missing from his record.
He seems to have been so busy seizing the throne, and then defending himself against his cruel successor, that God does not mention him walking in the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat. Perhaps he had no time for religion. At any rate, God, who notes even a cup of cold water given for the Lord's sake, has nothing good to record about him!
Shallum's month was even shorter than Zechariah's six. One writer draws the lesson from it, names the nation's condition behind it, and says which book verse 15 means.
Zechariah's reign was short (6 months), but Shallum's was much shorter — only one month! Those who grasp after power are very soon left powerless… Notice that in both cases there was no spiritual power among the elders of Israel. They could not choose a king who might be a capable and faithful ruler, so a man of violence could seize power for himself… The Book of Chronicles does not even mention the reign of Shallum, nor the reign of Zechariah in Israel. So verse 15 does not refer to the Book of Chronicles in the Bible, but to another book that is not Scripture.
If these chronicles are not part of the Bible, what were they? And does their loss cost us anything?
Men wrote these chronicles during the reigns of all the rulers of those times, whether Jewish or Gentile. They have nothing to do with the Word of God. They hold what the Lord did not choose to record or explain. These chronicles have been lost… The believer needs none of them; he has God's Word. In God's account he finds everything he needs, along with God's own assessment of people, events, and things. Writings that are not inspired may record certain deeds, and even record them very exactly. But nothing more than human judgment ever goes with those deeds.
Shallum's name itself carries the sense of what happened to him.
This assassin did not live long in the power he had stolen — only four short weeks — and then he met the just reward of his crime. His name (a very common one in Israel) means recompense, or payback. As he paid back the king before him, so Menahem, the king after him, paid him back. This is the old principle of God's government: repayment in kind.
The same pattern holds beyond these kings. Another writer ties it to a word of Jesus and turns it into a warning for the reader.
Another principle the Lord laid down is that "all who take the sword will perish by the sword" (Mt. 26:52). We see this in these kings too. How sad that God's records mark out a Shallum only for the conspiracy he made! He killed the king before him in the open, took his place on the throne, and a month later met the same violent end himself. Let it warn us, and let us turn from this king's example!
The quick run of murders here has one root, and it lies inside the men.
We are touching the reason for all these acts of violence: each is wanting to usurp power for his own gain. When conscience no longer speaks up, sinners give themselves over to every instinct of their evil nature.
Proverbs says, "An evil man seeks only rebellion, and a cruel messenger will be sent against him." One writer explains why a spirit of revolt appeals to a man, and why it does not go unanswered.
It is an evil man who gives in to a spirit of revolt. Rebellion is hateful to God, and His Word never excuses it. Life on earth offers a constant supply of chances, so such a man "seeks only rebellion." It gives him an unhappy sense of importance, and vanity cannot resist that. But God is not mocked… and a "cruel messenger" will surely be "sent against him." Even now there is moral government.
- Grasp — Shallum seized the throne by murder, and the grab is the one deed his name is remembered for.
- Grip — His hold lasted a single month; those who grasp after power are very soon left powerless.
- Repaid — His name means recompense. Menahem repaid him just as he had repaid Zechariah. Those who take the sword perish by the sword.
- Record — Two records existed. The lost national one held the bare facts. Scripture holds God's assessment, and the believer needs nothing more.
- Root — Behind the violence lay a silent conscience and naked self-interest. No one in Israel was spiritual enough to choose a faithful ruler.
Then Menahem smote Tiphsah, and all that were therein, and its territory from Tirzah, because they did not open [to him]; and he smote [it] all the women in it that were with child he ripped up.
Menahem took Israel's throne by murder, and then destroyed a town that had shut its gates against him. What he did there raises hard questions about the king and about the nation that let such men rule.
The attack was a military move, not a random raid. One writer, drawing on the ancient historian Josephus, explains who Menahem was, why Tirzah keeps appearing, and what the attack on Tiphsah was meant to achieve.
Josephus says, with good reason, that Menahem was general of the forces of Israel. He came up from Tirzah to kill Shallum. He then set out "from Tirzah" — where the main army probably lay — on his campaign of slaughter against Tiphsah. All of that implies as much... Tiphsah was originally one of Solomon's north-eastern border cities, on the Euphrates (1 Kings 4:24). Israel no doubt won it back under Jeroboam II. It was probably in revolt when the war-king Menahem attacked it so cruelly... By treating the people of Tiphsah so brutally, he most likely hoped to strike terror into all who might oppose his hold on the crown.
Two murders lie behind this verse. One writer shows how little the first murder paid the man who did it. He then names the motive behind such violence, and what has to fall silent first.
Shallum plotted against Zechariah, killed him, and ruled in his place. His crime did him little good, for at the end of a month he fell beneath the blows of Menahem. We are touching here the reason for all these acts of violence: each one wants to seize power for his own gain. With conscience no longer raising its voice, sinners are given up to all the instincts of their evil nature.
God Himself had once ordered the destruction of the Canaanites in this land. One writer sets that command beside what Menahem did, and shows the two are not the same.
Israel never held all the land on the west side of the Euphrates River. Even so, Menahem attacked Tiphsah, on the west bank of that river. The people did not surrender, so he treated them with cruel violence. The record makes a point of noting that he ripped open all the pregnant women, which clearly caused the death of both mother and child. Though the Lord had before ordered the destruction of all the Canaanites, He certainly did not suggest any such cruelty as this.
Menahem's cruelty did not end at Tiphsah. One writer points to where God later let the same punishment fall.
When Tiphsah refused his authority he carried out a terrible, barbaric punishment. "All the women in it who were pregnant he ripped open." And God in His eternal justice permitted the same punishment to fall upon Samaria (Hosea 13:16; Amos 1:13).
The verse is bleak, but the writers do not leave it there. One of them sets this king beside the Ruler who is coming.
The story of cruel Menahem takes us another step downward in the history of Israel. God emphasises the self-seeking character of this wicked king. Because they did not open their gates to him, he attacked Tiphsah and everyone in that city and its surrounding area... What a contrast to that One who "comes with might, and His arm rules for Him... He will tend His flock like a shepherd; He will gather the lambs in His arms; He will carry them in His bosom, and gently lead those that are with young" (Isa. 40:11). What a glorious day to look forward to!
- Cause. Conscience had gone silent in Israel's leaders. Each one grabbed power for his own gain. Sinners like that are given up to every instinct of their evil nature.
- Crime. Tiphsah shut its gates. Menahem answered by killing everyone in it, even pregnant women. God had once ordered destruction in that land, but He never suggested cruelty like this.
- Calculation. The horror was policy, not rage. Menahem the general most likely meant it to strike terror into anyone who might challenge his hold on the crown.
- Consequence. God in His eternal justice later let the same punishment fall on Samaria. Menahem's own capital received the measure he had used.
- Contrast. Menahem crushed mothers and their unborn children. The Ruler who is coming gathers the lambs in His arms and gently leads the mothers — the exact reverse of this verse.
In the thirty-ninth year of Azariah king of Judah, Menahem the son of Gadi began to reign over Israel, for ten years, in Samaria.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And he did evil in the sight of Jehovah he departed not, all his days, from the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin.
Menahem held Israel's throne for ten years. God's record of those years fits into one sentence: he did evil, and he never let go of Jeroboam's sin. Two questions follow. What were "the sins of Jeroboam"? And why does Scripture name Jeroboam, not Menahem, as the one who "made Israel to sin"?
This verdict is not about Menahem alone. One writer sets it beside the matching line used of Judah's kings, who left the high places of worship standing. Both lines, he says, come from one habit: copying the head of the royal house instead of seeking the mind of God.
Apart from the two exceptions already mentioned, this word "Only, the high places were not removed" runs like a refrain through the history of the faithful kings of Judah. Another refrain marks out the kings of Israel: "He did not depart from the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin." These kings ordered their conduct in religious matters by the example of the head of their royal house, who was an idolater… But it is always very dangerous to fit yourself into a system which, even when it boasts of great antiquity, does not seek the mind of God as its source.
The phrase points back to a whole system of worship. Jeroboam built it to look like what God had commanded, and to take its place.
Jeroboam is a cunning politician. He sets up one calf at Bethel, on the boundary with Judah, and the other at Dan, the northern frontier of his territory. He shapes his worship after the form of worship that the law of Moses commanded. "A house of high places" takes the place of the temple. "Priests from all classes of the people, who were not of the sons of Levi" take the place of the Levitical priesthood. Israel had its Feast of Tabernacles, so Jeroboam also set up a feast, but a month later… All this "he had devised of his own heart"!
The heaviest words in the verse are the ones about Jeroboam. One writer counts how often this chapter brings them back, and names the sin behind them.
Jeroboam stands out in the Old Testament as the great division maker. Under him the great mass of God's people, ten of the twelve tribes, broke away from God's centre at that time. Like a death knell, the Spirit repeats these sad words about this man again and again: "Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin." In one chapter alone these solemn words come four times (2 Kings 15:9, 18, 24, 28)… Personal sins are bad enough, but to turn away God's people from the centre which He has set up — what could be worse?
Menahem's own record fits the verdict. One writer follows the silver he paid to Assyria back to the people it came from.
Threatened by the even stronger might of the Assyrian king, Menahem bought him off with a huge quantity of silver. He meant by this to strengthen his own hold on the kingdom too. Yet, just as with politicians today, the money did not come out of his own pocket. Scripture points out that he "exacted" the money from Israel, forcing every wealthy man in Israel to contribute… After reading of such callous, cruel treatment of his subjects, we are not surprised to read that Menahem did what was evil in the sight of the LORD. All his days he did not depart from the sins of Jeroboam.
Ten years is a long reign for such a king. One commentator raises the question and leaves the answer with God.
Menahem reigned ten years (v.17). We may wonder why God allowed him this long a reign. He was just as bad a king as Zechariah and Shallum before him. But God does not always explain His reasons for such things, and we are wise to give Him credit for knowing well what He is doing.
The refrain has an end point, and Scripture names it.
The idolatry of Jeroboam remained with Israel until they were led into captivity, and it was an outstanding cause of that captivity. As it is written, "Jeroboam drove Israel from following the LORD, and made them sin a great sin… they did not depart from them, until the LORD removed Israel out of His sight, as He had spoken by all His servants the prophets."
- Departed not — inherited. Menahem took his pattern from the head of his royal house, not from God.
- Departed not — invented. He held on to worship Jeroboam devised of his own heart: substitute shrines, substitute priests, a feast one month late.
- Departed not — infectious. Jeroboam turned God's people away from the centre God had set up, and every verdict still names him for it.
- Departed not — all his days. Ten years, and no change. He squeezed silver out of his own people, and God's verdict on him matches that record.
- Departed not — until removed. God does not explain why such a man got ten years. But the refrain has an end: Israel removed out of His sight.
Pul the king of Assyria came against the land; and Menahem gave Pul a thousand talents of silver, that his hand might be with him to establish the kingdom in his hand.
The army of Assyria came against Israel, and King Menahem kept his crown by paying for protection. Who was this Pul, what did a thousand talents of silver buy, and who paid for it?
Assyria steps onto the page here for the first time, and it does not arrive by accident.
Here Scripture mentions the Assyrian for the first time. He is the power God used to carry out judgment on the Kingdom of Israel… A huge tribute (almost two million dollars) held the Assyrian back.
Commentators differ over who this man was. One view identifies Pul with Tiglath-pileser, the king named later in the same chapter.
Painstaking research has proved beyond doubt that Pul and Tiglath-pileser II are the same person. The Assyrian monuments bear witness to this fact. The records of Tiglath-pileser say that he received tribute from "Minikhimmi Samirina" — that is, Menahem the Samaritan. Pul was clearly one name of the Assyrian ruler, and later he took the title of Tiglath-pileser II.
Another view keeps the two kings apart, and works from the way Scripture names them.
after-note: DELETE THIS LINE IF PRESENT
If we keep simply to the letter of Scripture, we are led instead to see Pul, king of Assyria, as a separate person. This is what 1 Chronicles 5:26 tells us: "So the God of Israel stirred up the spirit of Pul king of Assyria, the spirit of Tiglath-pileser king of Assyria, and he took them into exile…" Verse 29 of our chapter credits the carrying away of the tribes beyond the Jordan to Tiglath-pileser. Verse 19 shows Pul coming against Israel, but an immense tribute of silver sways him into becoming the protector of the king of Israel.
The verse says what Menahem wanted for his money: a firmer grip on his own kingdom.
This showed how far Israel had departed from the living God, when their king gave money to a foreign king so that he might keep his kingdom.
The next verse shows where the silver came from.
Menahem faced the threat of an even stronger Assyrian king. He bought him off with a huge quantity of silver, meaning by this to strengthen his own hold on the kingdom too. Yet, just as with politicians today, the money did not come out of his own pocket. Scripture points out that he "exacted" the money from Israel, forcing every wealthy man in Israel to contribute. What a contrast to the One of whom the psalmist prophesied, "I will abundantly bless her provisions; I will satisfy her poor with bread" (Ps. 132:15).
The tribute worked for a time. Assyria turned back. But what did the whole policy of alliances achieve in the end?
In the end, what was the use of all the politics and the hunt for alliances and protection, turning now toward Assyria, then toward Egypt? Did they delay the decreed judgment for one moment? And it is the same in our own day, is it not? Nations try to get guarantees from one another. These will all blow away like chaff in the wind when "the Lamb who was slain" steps forward to take the book of God's counsels and ways toward the world and carry it out.
The policy of buying favour with gifts ended in shame.
Even one of Jeroboam's calves was carried to Assyria as a present for its king! What a shame for Israel! Their god given to the enemy of their race as a common present! That too was of the Lord.
No judgment fell on Menahem in his lifetime. Commentators draw a lesson from that.
Menahem did not die a violent death, so his son Pekahiah reigned in his place. God's government does not repay Menahem. His case, like many others in this history, teaches us that God's government on earth is not the measure of His righteousness. Nor is it His full repayment of the ways of men. This was the mistake of Job's friends, against whom Elihu rose up in anger.
- Bought. Menahem paid a foreign king a thousand talents of silver to secure his own throne. He bought protection instead of trusting God for it.
- Borrowed. The silver was not his; he squeezed it out of Israel's wealthy men, in sharp contrast to the King who satisfies His poor with bread.
- Blind. Turning to Assyria instead of to the Lord showed how far Israel had drifted from the living God.
- Brief. Assyria turned back. But no alliance delayed God's decreed judgment by a moment, and today's guarantees between nations will blow away like chaff.
- Beyond. Menahem died in his bed. God's government on earth is not the full measure of His righteousness or His final reckoning.
And Menahem exacted the money of Israel, of all those who were wealthy, of each man fifty shekels of silver, to give to the king of Assyria. And the king of Assyria turned back, and stayed not there in the land.
Menahem, king of Israel, handed the king of Assyria a thousand talents of silver to make him go away. This verse shows who paid that bill, and it raises a sharper question: why was a king of Israel bargaining with Assyria at all instead of with God?
The verb matters. Menahem did not pay the tribute himself. He took it from the rich men of Israel, fifty shekels each. One writer draws out what that method reveals about him:
The king of Assyria was stronger still. When he threatened Menahem, Menahem bought him off with a huge amount of silver. He meant this to strengthen his own hold on the kingdom too. Yet, just as with politicians today, the money did not come out of his own pocket. Scripture points out that he "exacted" the money from Israel. He forced every wealthy man in Israel to contribute. What a contrast to the One of whom the psalmist prophesied, "I will abundantly bless her provisions; I will satisfy her poor with bread" (Ps. 132:15).
Another writer notes what the wealthy were weighing up:
Menahem's bribe to the Assyrian king was money exacted from the people of Israel, especially from the wealthy. They would no doubt rather give this than have Assyria reduce the whole nation to poverty.
This is Assyria's first appearance in the story of Israel's kings. Commentators differ over who this king was. One holds to the plain wording of Scripture, and sees Pul and Tiglath-Pileser as two men:
If we keep simply to the letter of Scripture, we are led instead to see Pul, king of Assyria, as a distinct person. This is what 1 Chronicles 5:26 tells us: "And the God of Israel stirred up the spirit of Pul king of Assyria, and the spirit of Tiglath-Pileser king of Assyria."
Another reads the Assyrian records as settling the matter the other way:
The most painstaking research has proved, beyond the possibility of a doubt, that Pul is Tiglath-pileser II. The Assyrian monuments bear witness to this fact… The annals of Tiglath-pileser record that he received tribute from "Minikhimmi Samirina" — this is Menahem the Samaritan.
The Assyrian turned back. He did not stay away. The silver bought a pause, and the same power that accepted it returned to empty the land:
At this time Pul, the Assyrian king, came against the land. Menahem bribed him with a thousand talents of silver to keep him from attacking Israel. In these histories of the kings, this is the first we read of the king of Assyria. But not many years later Tiglath Pileser, king of Assyria, took some of Israel captive (2 Kings 15:29). A few years after that (ch. 17:5-6) the Assyrians took the rest of Israel captive.
Their deals could not delay the judgment already decreed. The lesson reaches past the ancient world:
In the end, what was the use of all the politics, the hunt for alliances and protection, turning now to Assyria, then to Egypt? Did they delay for one instant the judgment that had been decreed? And it is the same in our own day, is it not? Nations seek guarantees from one another. These will all blow away like chaff in the wind when "the Lamb that was slain" steps forward. He takes the book of God's counsels and ways toward the world, and He carries it out.
Israel was under God's chastening, and Menahem carried the trouble to Assyria. One writer names the deeper sin in that:
Chastening did not lead them to God, but to the Assyrian: could he heal or cure? It was bad enough to be treacherous to God. It was worse that they had to expose their godlessness and unbelief by turning to the stranger… It is a distress when the children of God behave badly among themselves. But it is an awful thing when there is no shame in seeking the resources of the world that hates them.
Menahem taxed his people and bribed a pagan king. Yet he died in peace, and his son took the throne after him. That absence of visible payback is itself instructive:
Menahem did not die a violent death, and his son Pekahiah reigned in his place. God does not bring His retributive government to bear on Menahem. His case, like many others in this history, teaches us that God's government on earth is not the measure of His righteousness. Nor is it His full recompense of the ways of men.
- Purchased. The peace of verse 20 was bought, not won — a thousand talents handed over to make the Assyrian turn back.
- Purchased by others. Menahem exacted it from Israel's wealthy men, fifty shekels each. The king kept the throne; the people paid the bill.
- Purchased from the wrong hand. God's chastening drove Israel to Assyria instead of to Him, and Assyria could not heal or cure them.
- Purchased time only. The silver delayed nothing God had decreed — the same Assyrian power later carried Israel away captive.
- Purchased silence, not acquittal. Menahem died in peace. God's government on earth is not the full measure of His righteousness.
And the rest of the acts of Menahem, and all that he did, are they not written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Israel?
This verse closes Menahem's file with the same question asked of king after king in Israel. Behind that short line lie a reign of cruelty, an invasion bought off with silver, and a record kept in two very different books.
One writer notes how far Menahem reached, and how little his violence had to do with God's commands:
Israel never had all the land on the west side of the Euphrates River. Even so, Menahem attacked Tiphsah, on the west bank of the Euphrates. The people there did not surrender, so he treated them with cruel violence. Scripture makes a point of noting that he ripped open all the pregnant women, which clearly killed both mother and child. The Lord had earlier ordered the destruction of all the Canaanites, but He certainly never called for cruelty like this.
The other great act of this reign was the payment Menahem made to Assyria. It brings a new power into the story:
This is the first mention of the dreaded "Assyrian" in Scripture. Experts on Assyria do not fully agree about who this "Pul" of Scripture was. Where the wise cannot agree among themselves, we must not even offer an opinion. We will pass on to what is beyond doubt: his invasion of the land, and the enormous price Menahem paid for peace.
Who Pul was is disputed. Who paid the bill is not:
Threatened by the even greater power of the Assyrian king, Menahem bought him off with a huge quantity of silver. He meant this to strengthen his own hold on the kingdom too. Yet, just as with politicians today, the money did not come out of his own pocket. Scripture points out that he "exacted" the money from Israel. He forced every wealthy man in Israel to contribute. What a contrast to the One of whom the psalmist prophesied, "I will abundantly bless her provisions; I will satisfy her poor with bread" (Ps. 132:15).
The silver bought peace. One writer asks what such bargains ever achieve, then brings the question to our own day:
In the end, what was the use of all the politics, and the search for alliances and protection, turning now to Assyria, then to Egypt? Did any of it delay the judgment already decreed, even for an instant? And it is the same in our own day, is it not? The guarantees nations seek to get from one another will all blow away like chaff in the wind. That will happen when "the Lamb that was slain" steps forward to take the book of God's counsels and ways toward the world, and to put it into effect.
The annals named here are not the Bible's own books of Chronicles. They were court records of the time, and they are gone:
People drew up these chronicles during the reigns of all the rulers of those times, whether Jewish or Gentile. They have nothing to do with the Word of God. What the Lord did not choose to record or explain is recorded there. These chronicles have been lost. The believer has no need of any of them; he has God's Word. There, in God's account, he finds all that is necessary for him, as well as the divine evaluation of people, events, and things. Men of God, prophets and seers, could be used to draw up these chronicles, yet these writings are still not the inspired Word of God. Amid the ruin and disappearance of these things, the Word of God remains — the only monument, the only document that cannot be shaken!
One writer finds this closing question in an earlier king's record and applies it to every reader:
"Now the rest of the acts of Ahaziah that he did, are they not written in the Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Israel?" Yes — and they, with the wicked acts recorded here, are written in God's books above. God's record is not just "the chronicles of the kings of Israel." It is a record of the deeds and doings of every person's life, whether good or evil. Solemn facts for us all!
- Acts. Menahem attacked Tiphsah with cruelty the Lord never called for, then handed silver to Assyria.
- Cost. He did not pay from his own treasury; he exacted the money from Israel's wealthy men, the opposite of the King who satisfies His people with bread.
- Futility. The purchased peace delayed nothing. Alliances and guarantees blow away like chaff when the Lamb takes the book of God's purposes.
- Archive. The chronicles named here are lost human records, not Scripture. Only God's Word survives, and only it gives the divine evaluation of people and events.
- Accounting. God keeps books of His own. They hold the deeds of every life, good or evil — solemn facts for us all.
And Menahem slept with his fathers; and Pekahiah his son reigned in his stead.
Menahem dies in his bed, not by the sword, and his son takes the throne. So a king who seized power by murder died in peace. What does that say about how God governs?
One writer reads "slept with his fathers" as the mark of a peaceful death, even in a man who likely held power by force:
Though he probably reigned as nothing more than a military dictator, he clearly died in peace, as the expression "slept with his fathers" implies. "His fathers" also implies that he was an Israelite, even though his name Menahem does not sound like Hebrew.
That peaceful end is not a verdict of innocence. Another writer draws a wider lesson from it:
Menahem did not die a violent death, so his son Pekahiah reigned in his place. God does not bring His punishing government against Menahem. His case, like many others in this history, teaches us something. God's government on earth is not the measure of His righteousness. Nor is it His full repayment of the ways of men. This was the error of Job's friends, and Elihu was angry with them.
Silver secured the kingdom Pekahiah inherited, and it was not the king's own silver. Menahem bought off the Assyrian king, then sent the bill to his people:
The Assyrian king threatened him with even greater might, so Menahem bought him off with a huge amount of silver. He also intended this to strengthen his own hold on the kingdom. Yet, just as with politicians today, the money did not come out of his own pocket. Scripture points out that he "exacted" the money from Israel, forcing every wealthy man in Israel to contribute. What a contrast to the One of whom the psalmist prophesied, "I will abundantly bless her provisions; I will satisfy her poor with bread" (Ps. 132:15). When we read of such callous, cruel treatment of his subjects, we are not surprised to read that Menahem did evil in the LORD's sight, and that he never turned away from the sins of Jeroboam as long as he lived.
Israel's kings kept looking for protection from the great powers around them. One writer asks what all of it achieved:
In the end, what was the use of all the politics and the search for alliances and protection, turning now toward Assyria, then toward Egypt? Did they delay God's decreed judgment for one moment? And it is the same in our own day, is it not? Nations look for guarantees from one another. All of them will vanish like chaff blown away by the wind. For "the Lamb who was slain" will step forward, take the book of God's plans and dealings with the world, and carry them out.
Menahem had come to power by killing Shallum. He was never punished for it in his lifetime. But the son who follows him here dies violently, and his very name speaks to that unpaid debt:
Pekahiah's killer was his own officer Pekah, with two of his followers and a company of fifty men from Gilead. They killed the king in his very palace, so bold were they. His name, Jah has observed, implies that God had looked upon the murder of Shallum by his father Menahem, and in the death of Pekahiah his son requited it (2 Chron. 24:22). His name, like his father's and grandfather's, does not occur anywhere else in Scripture.
Pekahiah received more than a crown. His father's sins had already dragged the nation down with him, and the record's refrain has a sting in it:
Notice here what the earlier chapters repeat so often: the sins of their kings made Israel sin. One person's sin becomes far more serious when it trips up others. Its consequences are charged to those who drag the ignorant and the unsettled into the path of their own disobedience.
- Unpunished. A violent king dying quietly proves nothing about God's approval. His government on earth is not the measure of His righteousness, or His full repayment of human ways.
- Observed. The son's name means Jah has observed. God saw the murder Menahem was never charged with, and He settled the account in the next reign.
- Purchased. Menahem bought his hold on the throne with silver squeezed out of Israel's wealthy. The people paid for the king's security.
- Worthless. The alliances did not delay God's judgment by a moment. The world's treaties today will scatter like chaff just the same.
- Inherited. A crown was not all that passed from father to son. The sins of Jeroboam passed too, and sin weighs heaviest when it drags others down with it.
In the fiftieth year of Azariah king of Judah, Pekahiah the son of Menahem began to reign over Israel in Samaria, for two years.
The verse gives a date, a son taking his father's throne in Samaria, and two short years. Behind that bare record lie two questions: why Menahem died in peace after a violent rise, and why the north kept losing kings while Judah held steady.
Menahem had taken power by killing Shallum, yet he died in his bed and passed the throne to his son. One writer warns us not to read God's judgment from what happens in this life.
Menahem did not die a violent death, so his son Pekahiah reigned in his place. God's government did not repay Menahem for what he did. His case, like many others in this history, teaches us that God's government on earth is not the measure of His righteousness. It is not His full repayment of the ways of men either. This was the error of Job's friends, and Elihu rose up against them in anger.
Menahem had murdered Shallum to take the throne. One writer finds a message in the name his son carried.
His name means "Jah has observed." It implies that God had looked on the murder of Shallum by his father Menahem, and that He repaid it in the death of Pekahiah his son. His name, like his father's and grandfather's, does not occur anywhere else in Scripture.
The verse dates Pekahiah by a king of Judah. Azariah — also called Uzziah — held that throne while king after king rose and fell in the north.
Azariah (Uzziah) reigned for more than half a century. In that time he saw five of Israel's kings die, three of them murdered. He also saw a gap of anarchy that lasted at least eleven years. This marked contrast is probably what the prophet meant when he wrote, "Ephraim surrounds Me with lies, and the house of Israel with deceit, but Judah still walks with God, and with the holy things of truth" (Hosea 11:13, in an older translation). This does not mean that everything Judah did pleased the Lord. It means that, unlike Israel who had abandoned Him, they still held to the truth of the Lord as a nation. That truth was given in the law and pictured in the temple's worship and service.
Pekahiah carried the same charge as every king before him: he kept the sins of Jeroboam son of Nebat. Jeroboam's sin was a religion he built himself, to stop his people going south to worship.
Judging by human wisdom and forgetting the fear of the Lord, he made two golden calves. He wanted to break the strong links of a shared worship, so that his subjects would no longer be tied to Judah and Jerusalem. He had to set up a new priesthood. He invented everything to do with worship out of his own heart. Israel's sin became a fixed rule, and the phrase "Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin," became the sad title of their first king.
The charge against these kings is not only that they sinned. They made Israel sin with them, and one writer weighs what that adds.
During the two years of his reign, Pekahiah, like all his predecessors, kept on in the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat. Notice here what is repeated so often in the earlier chapters: by the sins of their kings, Israel was made to sin. One person's sin becomes far more serious when it turns into a stumbling block for others. Its consequences are charged to those who carry away the ignorant and the poorly grounded into the path of their own disobedience.
Pekahiah's murder was not unusual. One writer counted how the kings of the north died, from the split of the kingdom to the deportation.
Nineteen kings reigned from the great split to the deportation to Assyria. Only seven died natural deaths (Baasha, Omri, Jehu, Jehoahaz, Jehoash, Jeroboam II, and Menahem). Seven were murdered (Nadab, Elah, Joram, Zachariah, Shallum, Pekahiah, and Pekah). One killed himself (Zimri). One died of wounds received in battle (Ahab)... To this telling list of facts we must add two long periods of anarchy, when "there was no king in Israel."
- Observed. Pekahiah's name means "Jah has observed." God saw the murder his father committed, and repaid it in the son's death.
- Inherited. He took the throne in peace. He also took over Jeroboam's invented worship, and kept it for both of his years.
- Spread. These kings did not only sin. They made Israel sin, and guilt grows through those who lead others astray.
- Delayed. Menahem rose by violence and died in his bed. God's dealings in this life are not the full measure of His righteousness.
- Ended. Judah kept one king for fifty years while Israel buried five. In the north the crown kept changing hands, until there was nothing left to hand on.
And he did evil in the sight of Jehovah he departed not from the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin.
Pekahiah took the throne of Israel from his father Menahem and held it for two years. He left behind no recorded act — only God's verdict on him. Why does Scripture repeat the same sentence over king after king? And what was the sin of Jeroboam that none of them would give up?
The list of evil kings is long by now. A reader might expect God to grow used to it. One writer draws the opposite conclusion:
Although we are now at the seventeenth king of Israel, all of them evil in varying degrees, we see that God has not changed His standards. Sometimes we feel that age and long use can turn what God calls bad into something good and acceptable. The standards of society change, and with them even the rulings of our court systems. But God does not change. Nor will He ever alter His standards to accommodate our ever-changing ideas. He is absolutely holy and righteous.
The charge is not that Pekahiah invented a new evil. He left an old one exactly where he found it:
Pekahiah did what was evil in the sight of the LORD. He did not turn away from the sins of Jeroboam. In presenting His divine assessment in these words, God shows that He was looking for Israel's kings to actively turn away from the sins of their predecessor, Jeroboam. "Cease to do evil, learn to do good" (Isa. 1:17) is the divine principle by which He expects us to act. The New Testament says the same to us. Each of us must withdraw from iniquity and purify ourselves from vessels that dishonour our Lord (2 Tim. 2:19-21 margin). We must do this if we want to be vessels for honour, useful to the Master, ready for every good work. Non-participation in evil is not enough. God demands clear-cut separation from it.
King after king, Jeroboam's name is still the label for Israel's guilt. One writer explains what made his sin so grave:
Jeroboam stands out in the Old Testament as the great division maker. Under him the great mass of God's people, ten of the twelve tribes, broke away from God's centre at that time. The Spirit marks this man out with sad words that come again and again, like a death knell: "Jeroboam the son of Nebat, which he made Israel to sin." One chapter alone solemnly repeats it four times (2 Kings 15:9, 18, 24, 28). There is something appalling about it. This special way of speaking shows how terrible the man's sin was in God's sight. It strikes every true heart with a sense of how awful it is. Personal sins are bad enough, but to turn away God's people from the centre which He has set up — what could be worse?
Israel's history says what that sin actually was, and where it ended:
Almost as soon as Jeroboam took the throne of Israel he turned to idolatry. He made two golden calves and set them up at Bethel and Dan... Jeroboam's idolatry stayed with Israel until they went into captivity. It was an outstanding cause of that captivity, just as Scripture says: "Jeroboam drove Israel from following the LORD and made them sin a great sin... they did not depart from them, until the LORD removed Israel out of His sight, as He had spoken by all His servants the prophets. So Israel was exiled from their own land to Assyria until this day" (2 Kings 17:21-23).
Pekahiah's sin did not stay with Pekahiah. One writer weighs what that adds to a man's guilt:
During the two years of his reign, Pekahiah, like all his predecessors, persisted in the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat. Let us notice here what is repeated so often in the earlier chapters: that by the sins of their kings, Israel was made to sin. One person's sin becomes far more serious when it turns into a stumbling-block for others. Its consequences are charged to those who pull the ignorant and the unsettled into the path of their own disobedience.
Pekahiah's own name carries a warning. One writer reads God's dealing with this family in it:
His name, Jah has observed, implies that God had observed the murder of Shallum by his father Menahem. Then, in the death of Pekahiah his son, God repaid it (2 Chron. 24:22).
- Unchanged. Seventeen kings in, God's standard has not moved. Long use never turns what He calls evil into something acceptable.
- Unmoved. He did not invent the evil; he simply left it in place. God looks for clear separation from evil, not just staying out of it.
- Inherited. The sin he kept was Jeroboam's — two golden calves that pulled God's people away from the centre God had set up.
- Transmitted. Sin that trips others up is charged to the one who led them. Israel held on to those calves, and it ended in exile to Assyria.
- Observed. His name means "Jah has observed." God had seen the blood by which his father took the throne, and He repaid it.
And Pekah the son of Remaliah, his captain, conspired against him, and smote him in Samaria, in the fortress of the king's house, with Argob and Arieh, and with him fifty men of the Gileadites; and he slew him, and reigned in his stead.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And the rest of the acts of Pekahiah, and all that he did, behold, they are written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Israel.
Pekahiah ruled the northern kingdom of Israel for two years. His reign closes with the same short formula used for king after king, and it raises two questions: what was that record book, and why did God keep so little of a king's life?
The closing formula points to a fuller record. But Scripture has already given its verdict on Pekahiah, and nothing in it is good.
Pekahiah continued the wearying list of godless kings in Israel. He reigned only two years and kept up the idolatry that Jeroboam the son of Nebat had introduced. The record holds nothing to his credit. One of his officers, Pekah the son of Remaliah, conspired with others to kill him.
His murder did not only end a life. It ended a family line on the throne.
His death ended the seventh dynasty of the kings of Israel.
Readers naturally reach for the biblical books of Chronicles. That is not what is meant.
Verse 26 tells us that the rest of the acts of Pekahiah are recorded in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Israel. But again, this is not the scriptural Book of Chronicles. Pekahiah is not even mentioned there.
These were the state annals of the kingdom, and their loss costs the believer nothing.
These chronicles were written during the reigns of all the rulers of those times, whether Jewish or Gentile. They have nothing to do with the Word of God. They hold what the Lord did not choose to record or explain. These chronicles have been lost; perhaps someone will one day find some fragments of them. The believer has no need for any of them; he has God's Word. In God's account he finds everything he needs, along with God's own evaluation of people, events, and things.
What Scripture keeps is God's own verdict: Pekahiah did not depart from the sins of Jeroboam. Those few words carry a standard that reaches past Israel's kings.
Pekahiah did evil in the sight of the Lord. He departed not from the sins of Jeroboam. God gives His verdict in these words, and it shows what He was looking for. He wanted Israel's kings to make a real break from the sins of Jeroboam, the king before them. "Cease to do evil, learn to do good" (Isa. 1:17) is the divine principle by which He expects us to act. The New Testament calls each of us to do the same. We are to turn away from wrongdoing, and to separate ourselves from vessels that dishonour our Lord. Only then are we vessels for honour, useful to the Master, ready for every good work. Non-participation in evil is not enough. God demands clear-cut separation from it.
The same writer looks back over the whole line of kings and finds the reason the verdict never changes.
We are now at the seventeenth king of Israel, and all of them were evil in varying degrees. Yet God has not changed His standards. The norms of society change, and with them even the rulings of our court systems. But God does not change. He will never alter His standards to fit our ever-changing ideas. He is absolutely holy and righteous.
Pekahiah's own name carries a quiet comment on how he died.
The man who killed Pekahiah was his own captain, Pekah, helped by two of his followers and a company of fifty Gileadites. These Gileadites seem to have been a rough, wild class, something like Hebrew highlanders, ready in Pekahiah's day for any kind of crime. They were so bold that they killed the king in his own palace. His name means Jah has observed. It implies that God had seen the murder of Shallum by his father Menahem, and that He repaid it in the death of Menahem's son Pekahiah. His name, like his father's and grandfather's, does not occur anywhere else in Scripture.
The same closing formula appears elsewhere in Kings. There one writer points to a second set of books.
"Now the rest of the acts of Ahaziah that he did, are they not written in the Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Israel?" Yes, they are. And they, along with the wicked acts recorded here, are written in God's books above. Those books are not merely chronicles of the kings of Israel. They hold the deeds and doings of every life, whether good or evil. Solemn facts for us all!
- Recorded — the closing line points to the state annals of Israel's kings. It is not the biblical books of Chronicles, which never mention Pekahiah.
- Lost — those annals have disappeared, and nothing is missing. God's Word holds all the believer needs, including His own evaluation of people and events.
- Kept — what God chose to keep is the moral verdict: he did not depart from the sins of Jeroboam. Refusing to join evil is not enough; God looks for a clear break from it.
- Observed — his name means Jah has observed. God had seen Menahem murder Shallum, and He repaid it in the death of Menahem's son.
- Read — the earthly book is gone. Every life stands written in God's books above, good or evil alike, and that is the record that will be read.
In the fifty-second year of Azariah king of Judah, Pekah the son of Remaliah began to reign over Israel in Samaria, for twenty years.
Pekah took Israel's throne by murder, and twenty years later he lost it the same way. Scripture gives him one line of character — he did evil and clung to the sins of Jeroboam — and his long reign is the stretch in which the northern kingdom starts to come apart.
Pekah did not act alone. One commentator traces his reign from the conspiracy that began it to the deportations that marked it:
Pekah, the son of Remaliah, helped in his conspiracy by men of Gilead, kills Pekahiah along with two of his companions. He reigns twenty years in Samaria, and toward the Lord he follows the way of the kings of Israel. Verse 29 sums up the results of his reign. Tiglath-Pileser the Assyrian comes up against him. He carries away captive the Reubenites, the Gadites, and that half tribe of Manasseh — all the people settled beyond the Jordan.
A reference work adds the detail that his death came at the hands of Hoshea, and notes how his dates are reckoned:
Pekah was killed by Hoshea, in what is called the 20th year of Jotham, that is, the 4th year of Ahaz, which would have been the 20th of Jotham.
The same charge follows king after king through these chapters — he did not depart from the sins of Jeroboam. One writer marks the last time it appears:
How painfully this often-repeated testimony, like a sad refrain, falls upon the ear! But this is the last time. Under Hoshea, Pekah's killer and successor, God "put an end to the kingdom of the house of Israel" (Hosea 1:4). And he, though he did wrong, did it "not as the kings of Israel who were before him" (2 Kings 17:2).
The verse gives a length of reign but no events. Another writer fills in those twenty years: land lost, and an alliance born of fear:
During the twenty years Pekah reigned there were major changes in Israel's situation. Assyria's mighty warrior kings conquered the northern and eastern parts of the land and deported their people to Assyria. Threatened by Assyria, Israel and Syria became allies and sought to overthrow the house of David in Judah. They did so because Ahaz, the wicked king of Judah, had become a payer of tribute to Assyria and was leaning on its king for help against these enemies.
One commentator weighs Assyria's invasion against what Pekah had aimed at Judah's royal house:
Pekah joined Rezin king of Damascus in an unprovoked and cowardly attack on Jerusalem. Then the king of Assyria invaded and devastated his land. That was his just reward for his "fierce anger" and "evil counsel" against the house of David, which he sought to overthrow by conspiracy and revolution.
The same writer finds a bitter irony in what the man's name means:
His name means watch. It comes from a root meaning "to open" (as the eyes), and by extension, to be observant. But watch as he might, the very friend he trusted became his killer, in God's ordering. It is impossible for the wicked to escape the punishment they deserve from the hand of Him who has said, "Vengeance is Mine; I will repay."
One writer draws a lesson from which tribes fell first:
The breaking up of the kingdom of Ephraim begins with the tribes that had chosen their portion on the other side of the Jordan for their own convenience. It is always so. Some Christians never take their stand firmly, and without a backward glance, on the ground where the death of Christ stands between them and the world like the Jordan — a barrier they cannot cross. Those Christians are the first the enemy attacks. They become the poor captives of the world, because, for all their real faith, they have not agreed to break with it completely.
- Seized. Pekah took the throne by conspiracy and murder, with help from men of Gilead.
- Same sin. His reign repeats the old charge: he clung to the sins of Jeroboam. This is the last time Scripture brings that charge against a king of Israel.
- Shrinking. While he reigned, Assyria stripped away the north and the east and deported the people. The kingdom came apart piece by piece.
- Struck down. His war on the house of David killed 120,000 in one day; Assyria's invasion of his own land repaid it. The man whose name means watch died at the hand of the friend he trusted. No one escapes the God who says, "Vengeance is Mine; I will repay."
- Separate. The tribes that chose their land for convenience fell first. Believers who will not break with the world completely are the first it takes captive.
And he did evil in the sight of Jehovah he departed not from the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin.
Pekah killed the king he served, seized Israel's throne, and reigned twenty years — yet God's verdict on him is the same one already passed on the kings before him. Why does a sin committed generations earlier still name every king who follows?
The wording here is not new. This one chapter passes the same sentence four times. One writer draws out why that repetition is so striking:
Jeroboam stands out in the Old Testament as the great division maker. Under him the great mass of God's people, ten of the twelve tribes, broke away from God's centre at that time. The Spirit marks out this man with sad words that come back again and again, like a death knell: "Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin." This single chapter alone repeats it solemnly four times (2 Kings 15:9, 18, 24, 28). There is something appalling about it. Personal sins are bad enough. But to turn God's people away from the centre He has set up — what could be worse?
Jeroboam was Israel's first king after the nation split in two. His sin was a religion built to keep his people away from Jerusalem:
Judging by human wisdom and forgetting the fear of Jehovah, he made two golden calves. He wanted to break the strong links of a shared worship, so that they would no longer hold his subjects to Judah and Jerusalem. He had to set up a new priesthood. He devised everything to do with worship out of his own heart. Israel's sin became an established rule, and the phrase "Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin" became the sad description of their first king.
The charge is not only that Pekah sinned, but that the sin he kept was one that spread. One writer explains why that raises the stakes:
Notice here what the earlier chapters repeat so often: the sins of their kings made Israel sin. A person's sin becomes far more serious when it trips others up. Its consequences count against those who drag the ignorant and the unsteady into the path of their own disobedience.
Pekah is the last king to receive this sentence. What follows explains why:
How painfully this often-repeated testimony, like a sad refrain, falls on the ear! But this is the last time. Under Hoshea, Pekah's killer and successor, God made "to cease the kingdom of the house of Israel" (Hosea 1:4). And he, though he did wrong, did not do it "as the kings of Israel that were before him" (2 Kings 17:2).
The verses that follow show Assyria arriving in Pekah's own reign. The first tribes taken are the ones who had settled on the far side of the Jordan:
The Assyrian king Tiglath-Pileser comes up against him. He carries away captive the Reubenites, the Gadites, and that half tribe of Manasseh, all the people settled beyond the Jordan… The breaking up of the kingdom of Ephraim begins with these tribes. For their own convenience, they had chosen their portion on the other side of the Jordan.
Pekah lost his throne to the very man he trusted. One writer notes the irony in his name:
His name, meaning watch, comes from a root meaning "to open" (as the eyes); figuratively, to be observant. But watch as he might, his very friend, the man he trusted, became his killer in God's ordering. It is impossible for the wicked to escape the punishment they deserve. It comes from the hand of Him who has said, "Vengeance is Mine; I will repay."
- Did not depart — the charge. The verdict on Pekah is not that he invented a new evil, but that he refused to leave an old one. Continuing in inherited sin is itself the guilt.
- Did not depart — the root. He clung to Jeroboam's invented religion: golden calves, a new priesthood, and worship devised out of his own heart. Its aim was to keep people away from Jerusalem.
- Did not depart — the reach. A sin grows far worse when it trips up others. The consequences count against those who lead the weak into their own disobedience.
- Did not depart — the ruin. In Pekah's own reign Assyria starts to break up the kingdom. The first tribes taken are the ones who had chosen land beyond the Jordan for their own convenience.
- Did not depart — the last time. This is the last time the refrain appears. After Pekah, God brings the kingdom of Israel to an end, and Pekah dies at the hand of the friend he trusted.
In the days of Pekah king of Israel, Tiglath-Pileser king of Assyria came and took Ijon, and Abel-Beth-Maachah, and Janoah, and Kedesh, and Hazor, and Gilead, and Galilee, all the land of Naphtali, and carried them captive to Assyria.
In Pekah's reign Assyria broke into the northern kingdom and carried whole regions away. The list of captured towns raises two questions: why did judgment begin there, and what did God later do with the emptied land?
The places named map out the loss. One survey of the captivities works through the geography:
In 2 Kings 15:29 there is another reference to Israel. Tiglath-pileser took Ijon, Abel-beth-maacah, Janoah, Kedesh and Hazor, which are all in the north on the west of the Jordan. But then comes Gilead, which is on the east, and this may be meant to include the two and a half tribes. Then Galilee with all the land of Naphtali follows, again in the north on the west. So this may be a summary of everything this king carried away captive to Assyria.
Assyria had its own reasons for striking now. One writer weighs them against what Scripture tells us:
It seems Pekah had not followed this rule of submission to Assyria, as Menahem had. That would explain the political reasons for carrying these tribes away. The Word does not give us those political reasons, but Chronicles points to the divine reason in a word: "And the God of Israel stirred up the spirit of Pul king of Assyria, and the spirit of Tiglath-pileser … and he carried them away."
Assyria's attack also answered something Pekah had done first:
This happened after Pekah's unprovoked and cowardly attack on Jerusalem, together with Rezin king of Damascus. The king of Assyria invaded and devastated his land. That was his just reward for his "fierce anger" and "evil counsel" against the house of David, which he tried to overthrow by conspiracy and revolution.
Gilead lay east of the Jordan. That was the side the two and a half tribes had chosen for themselves, and it is where the losses start:
The dismemberment of the kingdom of Ephraim begins with the tribes which, for their own convenience, had chosen their portion on the other side of the Jordan.
The same writer turns that old choice into a warning for believers now:
It is always so. Some Christians never step firmly, and without a backward glance, onto the ground where the death of Christ stands like the Jordan — a barrier between them and the world that cannot be crossed. Those Christians are the first to face the attacks of the enemy. They become the poor captives of the world, which, despite their real faith, they have not been willing to break with completely.
This was not the final captivity, only the first bite:
The cities of the north, and some of those on the other side of Jordan, are the first to be led captive by the king of Assyria.
Another writer sums up what this first loss meant:
This marks the beginning of the end.
Emptying Naphtali had a long consequence:
About B.C. 740 Tiglath-pileser carried away captive all the inhabitants of Naphtali. No doubt foreigners then settled the district. When the captivity of Israel was complete, they would be able to spread southward. So we get the term 'Galilee of the Gentiles,' or nations, which does not appear until Isaiah 9:1. Matthew 4:15 quotes the prophecy.
That despised corner is where God chose to shine:
Let the hand of oppression press on them harder than ever. There would still be this difference — and our Lord's first coming among them proved it! — that a great light would spring up among the darkest and most despised in the land. It was in Galilee, not Jerusalem, that the grace of Jesus shone.
- Choice. The first land taken was the land chosen for convenience — Gilead, east of the Jordan.
- Cause. Pekah's attack on Jerusalem came back on him. Chronicles names God as the One who stirred Assyria up.
- Creep. Judgment came by stages: the border towns first, then the whole captivity of Israel.
- Caution. Christians who keep one foot outside the death of Christ are the first the enemy attacks, and the first the world takes captive.
- Comfort. The stripped and overrun region became "Galilee of the Gentiles" — and there, not in Jerusalem, the grace of Jesus shone.
And Hoshea the son of Elah made a conspiracy against Pekah the son of Remaliah, and smote him and slew him; and he reigned in his stead, in the twentieth year of Jotham the son of Uzziah.
For the last time, the throne of the northern kingdom changes hands by murder. The verse dates it by "the twentieth year of Jotham," a note that has long puzzled readers. It also introduces the last man ever to rule the northern kingdom.
One writer weighs Pekah's death against the blood he had already spilled:
He killed in his "fierce anger" one hundred thousand Jews in one day (2 Chronicles 28:6); and God repaid him in kind. He had shed man's blood by treachery, so by treachery a man shed his blood too.
The killer was no stranger. The same writer also looks at what Pekah's name meant:
Josephus says Hoshea was "a friend" of Pekah's. In his death the prophecy of Isaiah (Isaiah 7:16) was fulfilled. His name, meaning watch, comes from a root meaning "to open" (as the eyes); figuratively, to be observant. But watch as he might, his very friend in whom he trusted became, in God's ordering, his slayer. It is impossible for the wicked to escape the punishment they deserve from the hand of Him who has said, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay."
Isaiah had spoken to Ahaz, king of Judah, when two kings threatened him: Pekah of Israel and Rezin of Syria. The sign God gave was a child:
The prophetic announcement that such a child would be born was present evidence to faith. Whatever schemes men might make, the remnant could count on God... "For before the boy knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land whose two kings you dread will be deserted" ... And before this child could have grown up, Hoshea had killed Pekah, and the king of Assyria had taken Damascus and killed Rezin.
Scripture dates Hoshea's reign twice: here by Jotham's twentieth year, and later by the twelfth year of Ahaz. One writer works at the numbers and then stops:
The margin has explained the gap as a time with no king at all. That is substantially right, because Scripture says Hoshea reigned nine years. Yet he begins to reign in the twelfth year of Ahaz, while Pekah was killed in the third year of Ahaz. That is because Ahaz began in the seventeenth year of Pekah, and Pekah reigned twenty years... What Hoshea's position was, this man said to reign in place of the Pekah he killed, I do not know. That is why I say "substantially."
Another writer notes what Scripture leaves out of that gap, and what it does record:
We have no way of knowing why there was this gap with no king, or how the time was spent... But God's word has recorded Hoshea's wickedness like this: "he did what was evil in the sight of the LORD, yet not as the kings of Israel who were before him."
"Reigned in his place" sounds like a victory. It was nothing of the kind:
Hoshea was the nineteenth and final king of the northern kingdom, Israel. Scripture tells us that he reigned in Pekah's place, but gives us two different dates for when his reign began. Apparently he had trouble securing his hold on the fast-sinking kingdom, or perhaps he had to have his right to rule approved by the powerful Assyrians. At any rate, his rule was only that of a vassal to the Assyrian king.
Hoshea's name carries a hint that outlives the kingdom he lost:
Scripture does not reveal what finally became of Hoshea. He may be the king meant in the prophet's poetic words, "Samaria's king shall perish like a twig on the face of the waters" (Hosea 10:7). His name means deliverer, and may have a prophetic meaning. It would be a gracious reminder to the now long-scattered nation of that great "Deliverer" who "will come from Zion" (God's grace) and will "banish ungodliness from Jacob." And then, and so, "all Israel will be saved" (Romans 11:26).
The kingdom was falling apart. One writer says that is exactly when God speaks:
Prophecy always comes at a time of ruin... A time of evil is not necessarily a time of evil for the people of God. It is evil for those who are false; it is evil for those who would take advantage. But a time of evil is a time when God works especially for the blessing of those who may have failed. So let no one use the ruin around them as an excuse.
- Blood. Pekah shed blood on a huge scale, and his own friend shed his — treachery repaid by treachery, under the God who says vengeance belongs to Him.
- Word. The murder fulfilled Isaiah's sign to Ahaz: the two kings he dreaded would be gone before a child could grow up.
- Silence. Two dates point to a gap between Pekah's death and Hoshea's real reign. Commentators call it a time with no king, and admit they know no more.
- Vassal. Hoshea "reigned in his place," but held a sinking kingdom as a servant of Assyria — the last of nineteen kings.
- Deliverer. Hoshea's name means deliverer, yet he delivered no one. The name points past him to the Deliverer who will come from Zion — God's answer in the hour of ruin.
And the rest of the acts of Pekah, and all that he did, behold, they are written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Israel.
Pekah's twenty years as king of Israel end with the line used for king after king before him. The rest of what he did sits in a book the Bible does not hold. So what was that book, and why did God leave a king's life to it?
These records were written during the kings' own reigns. They were never part of the Bible. One writer explains why their loss costs the reader nothing:
These books often refer to the chronicles of the kings of Israel, or to those of the kings of Judah. Those chronicles were drawn up during the reigns of all the rulers of that time, whether Jewish or Gentile. They have nothing to do with the Word of God. Whatever it has not pleased the Lord to record or explain is written down there. These chronicles have been lost; perhaps someone will one day find fragments of them. The believer needs none of them; he has God's Word. In God's account he finds everything he needs, and God's own assessment of people, events, and things.
Yet the writer of Kings did draw on such sources, and that does not weaken the result:
Several times the writer refers to the book of the chronicles of the kings of Israel (1 Kings 14:19; 2 Kings 15:31)... The author of the books of Kings was able to use these "references" under the guidance of the Holy Spirit while writing his God-inspired work.
God's record of Pekah keeps the same sad verdict He gave king after king. With Pekah it is heard for the last time:
How painful it is to hear this testimony again and again, like a sad refrain! But this is the last time. Under Hoshea, the man who killed Pekah and took his place, God put an end to "the kingdom of the house of Israel" (Hosea 1:4).
Pekah's reign is remembered for what Israel lost. The tribes east of the Jordan went first:
Tiglath-Pileser of Assyria comes up against him. He carries off as captives the Reubenites, the Gadites, and the half tribe of Manasseh — all the people settled beyond the Jordan... The breaking up of the northern kingdom of Ephraim begins with the tribes that had chosen their share of land on the other side of the Jordan, because it suited them.
Rossier reads their choice of ground as a warning to anyone who wants both worlds at once:
Some Christians never step firmly, and without a backward glance, onto the ground where the death of Christ stands between them and the world like the Jordan — a barrier no one can cross. Those Christians are the first to meet the enemy's attacks. They become the sad captives of the world, because, real as their faith is, they have not agreed to break with it completely.
Hoshea killed Pekah and took his throne. Pekah's own name carries the irony:
Josephus says Hoshea was "a friend" of Pekah's... His name means watch. It comes from a root meaning "to open" (as the eyes are opened), and so it pictures being observant. But watch as he might, the very friend he trusted became his killer, and God ordered it so. That is how impossible it is for the wicked to escape the punishment they deserve from the hand of Him who has said, "Vengeance is Mine; I will repay."
Another writer notes where Pekah spent his strength — not on Assyria, but on Judah:
Though Pekah was unable to resist Assyria, he did have the more dubious distinction of killing 123,000 men of Judah in one day! How often it seems we do more damage to our own brothers and sisters than we do to the power of our enemies!
One writer meets this same closing line earlier in the history. He looks past the lost archive to books that still stand:
Yes, and they, along with the wicked acts recorded here, are written in God's books above. Those books are not just "the chronicles of the kings of Israel." They hold the deeds and doings of every person's life, good or evil. Solemn facts for us all!
- Two books. The kings' chronicles held the acts; God's Word holds His assessment — and only one of the two survived.
- Two verdicts. Men's records keep a king's acts; God's record keeps His judgment of the man — and over Pekah that sad refrain sounds for the last time.
- Two losses. The tribes who chose land east of the Jordan to suit themselves lost that land and their freedom first. Where you stand still decides who falls first.
- Two names. Pekah's name means watch, yet Hoshea, the friend he trusted, killed him. No watching outruns the God who repays.
- One reckoning. The book men kept is gone; the books above are not, and they hold every life's deeds, good or evil.
In the second year of Pekah the son of Remaliah, king of Israel, Jotham the son of Uzziah, king of Judah, began to reign.
Pekah had murdered his way to Israel's throne, and the Bible dates Jotham's reign in Judah from Pekah's second year. Jotham came to power as an upright son of a father God had judged.
A Bible dictionary records what kind of man this Pekah was:
Son of Remaliah and captain to Pekahiah, king of Israel, whom he murdered, and then seized the throne: he reigned 20 years. He invaded Judah, and killed 120,000 in one day, and carried away 200,000 women, sons and daughters.
Why date a king of Judah by a king of Israel? One writer explains the plan of these two books:
The two Books of Kings retrace the history of the kings of Israel. They bring in the kings of Judah only as landmarks in the account, or to show how the two royal lines stood in relation to each other.
God's judgment had already fallen on his father Uzziah, and Jotham was running the kingdom in his place. One writer draws two conclusions from this — one about timing, one about the home Jotham came from:
"Jotham was twenty-five years old when he began to reign, and he reigned sixteen years in Jerusalem." Jotham was regent over the kingdom after the judgment of God had fallen upon his father. "And Jotham his son was over the king's household, governing the people of the land." This shows that Uzziah committed his irreverent trespass in the very last part of his long reign. Jotham was only a young man of twenty-five when his father died... His mother was Jerushah, whose name means "possessed," and she was the daughter of Zadok, whose name means "just." This suggests that she truly belonged to the Lord, and was just before Him. Like every true mother, she would have had great influence in shaping her son's character.
Jotham did what was right, yet he stayed outside the temple. One writer finds two very different fears behind that:
The divine judgment on his father clearly moved King Jotham deeply, for "he did not enter the temple of the LORD." David was "afraid of the LORD" after Uzzah died for touching the ark, and Jotham was plainly the same. Reverential fear made king Jotham do what was right in the eyes of the LORD. But slavish fear kept him from God's presence.
Jotham was a builder, and one writer finds the clue to his whole reign in a single gate:
The "upper gate" led from the king's house to the temple, and Jotham's building it (rebuilding, or repairing) is very significant. He wanted free access from his own house to that of the Lord. He wanted to strengthen the link between the two houses. To use a military picture, he kept his supply line open to the source of his strength and wisdom. This is one of the secrets of his prosperity and power.
Jotham walked uprightly. His people did not, and that did not cancel the blessing on his reign:
Jotham, the son of Uzziah, walks uprightly. He avoids his father's fault. But the people are still corrupt. Even so, Jotham's faithfulness brings him blessing and prosperity. For it is always the state of the king which is the object of God's judgment. The people as such had failed long before.
He left one thing undone. Another writer names it, alongside all that made his reign strong:
Jotham became mighty "because he ordered his ways before the LORD his God." With so much to commend his reign, it is sad to read, "Nevertheless, the high places were not removed." How good it would have been if Jotham had shown the same zeal for removing what offended his God that he showed in his wars and in building his cities, castles and towers.
One writer measures Jotham against every other king in the line, then sets a careful limit on what that record proves:
Jotham is the only one of all the Hebrew kings, from Saul onward, against whom God has nothing to record. His character matches his name, Jehovah-perfect. "The whole world," we know, is "held accountable to God." "All have sinned," God says. But in his public life, Jotham, like Daniel, was perfect, or blameless... Man saw nothing to condemn: Daniel knew God's eye saw much.
- Dated — Pekah's second year clocks the start of Jotham's reign. Kings follows Israel's line and brings Judah in as a landmark beside it.
- Shaped — He ruled for his father under God's judgment. His mother's name marked her as the Lord's. Both shaped the king he became.
- Restrained — His father's judgment kept Jotham out of the temple. Reverent fear made him do right; slavish fear held him back from God's presence.
- Connected — He built the gate between palace and temple. That open line to God, not his walls, is a secret of his power.
- Unfinished — The high places stayed, and the people stayed corrupt. God's judgment weighed the king's own state, not the nation's.
He was twenty-five years old when he began to reign; and he reigned sixteen years in Jerusalem; and his mother's name was Jerusha, the daughter of Zadok.
Jotham's reign opens with three plain facts: his age, his years in Jerusalem, and his mother's name. Behind that short summary stands a rare king — Scripture records nothing evil against him — yet his people stayed corrupt.
Jotham came to the throne at twenty-five. He had already been running the kingdom while his father Uzziah lived under God's judgment. One commentator reads his age as a clue to when Uzziah's sin happened:
Jotham ruled the kingdom in his father's place after God's judgment fell on Uzziah. "And Jotham his son was over the king's house, judging the people of the land" (2 Chronicles 26:21). This shows that Uzziah committed his sin against God in the very last part of his long reign. Jotham was only a young man of twenty-five when his father died, so he could not have been judging the people of the land many years before this.
Why was the son governing at all? His father had reached for authority that was not his:
The idea of his dignity, of his great importance as king, led him, the civil power, to take over religious authority. The Lord judges Uzziah by striking him with leprosy. This authority, which he was so proud of and for which he had not given the Lord the honour, passes from him to his son Jotham years before his death.
The verse bothers to record Jerusha, daughter of Zadok. That habit is itself worth noticing:
His mother, Jerusha, daughter of Zadok, was probably of the priestly family. In her we again see the blessed role that the mothers of Judah's kings played. There is nothing like this among the kings of Israel.
One commentator draws meaning from the two names themselves:
His mother's name, Jerusha, means "possessed," and Zadok means "just." This seems to imply that she was really the Lord's, and just before Him. Like every true mother, she would have had considerable influence over her son in forming his character.
His reign was short. The verdict on it is unlike any other king's:
"All his wars" implies that he fought his enemies throughout his sixteen-year reign. He subdued some, like the Ammonites, and drove back the invasions of others (Rezin king of Syria, and Pekah king of Israel). His "ways" too were written. God calls His saints to walk as well as to fight... Jotham is the only one of all the Hebrew kings, from Saul down, against whom God has nothing to record. In this, his character matches his name, which means "the Lord is perfect." "All have sinned," God says. But in his public life Jotham was perfect, or blameless.
He put his energy into war and building, and he left the high places standing:
Like his father, Jotham prospered in battle, and he made his name as a builder of cities and towers. He became mighty "because he prepared his ways before the Lord his God." So much in his reign is worth praising. That makes it sad to read, "The people still acted corruptly" (2 Chronicles 27:2), and "Nevertheless, the high places were not removed. The people still sacrificed and made offerings on the high places" (2 Kings 15:35). If only Jotham had shown the same zeal for removing what offended his God that he showed in his wars and in building his cities, castles and towers.
The crown changed what God required of him:
Before he came to the throne, judgment fell on his father for wrongly forcing his way into the holy place to burn incense, and Jotham governed the land (chapter 26:21). But God's estimate of his character and reign refers to him after his father's death. As the anointed king, God held him more directly responsible — for his own state, and for the state of his people and kingdom. Everywhere in Scripture the higher the position, the greater the responsibility. In the Lord's own words, to whom much is given, of him much is required.
- Home first. The verse names Jerusha, daughter of Zadok. Judah's kings have their mothers recorded; Israel's kings do not.
- Training next. At twenty-five he was no beginner. He had already judged the people while his father lived under God's judgment.
- Record clean. Sixteen short years, and not one charge against him. No other Hebrew king from Saul onward has that record.
- Strength borrowed. He became mighty because he prepared his ways before the Lord his God; that, not his walls, was the source.
- Reach limited. The high places stood and the people stayed corrupt. A faithful king can leave standing what he never had the zeal to attack.
And he did what was right in the sight of Jehovah he did according to all that his father Uzziah had done.
Kings sums up Jotham's reign in one line: he did right, in the pattern of his father Uzziah — the headstrong king who had lifted himself up before the high priest. Commentators weigh both halves of that verdict.
The phrase "according to all that his father Uzziah had done" is praise with a ceiling. One writer weighs what it means that a son copied this particular father:
We may still ask what exactly is meant by Jotham walking in his father's steps. It means, we judge, that it was good as far as it went, but it was not godliness or obedience of the highest kind. Of both Hezekiah and Josiah the record says that David their father was their model. David was the man after God's own heart; Uzziah was not, and to remember this is to see the difference... Believers today fall into the same mistake. They make their parents' walk their standard, or the walk of other Christians they admire — instead of the walk of the only perfect Example.
Chronicles explains where this king's power came from:
The account in Chronicles teaches us that Jotham "became mighty, because he ordered his ways before the LORD his God." Godliness is a source of strength for us too, and of spiritual power. The moment our ways are no longer ordered before God, strength leaves us. That is serious for all of us, and a thousand times more serious for anyone who carries a particular responsibility toward the people of God. But being aware of that strength carries a danger. We saw with Uzziah how that feeling pushed him to lift himself up before the high priest.
Chronicles adds one limit to the same verdict. Commentators differ on whether that limit is credit or loss. One sees a son who kept out of the place where his father had pushed in:
So we read that he did what was right in the eyes of the LORD, "except he did not enter the temple of the LORD." He avoided the folly of his headstrong father. He did not rush in where angels fear to tread.
Another reads the same clause as a gap in his life, and turns it into a question for ordinary believers:
Jotham was not a worshipper, and so he did not meet the mind of the Lord... It is plain, therefore, that the Spirit of God marks it as a failure that Jotham did not enter the temple of the Lord. If so, is there no warning for us through Jotham? Sadly, many who profess to be Christians are not worshippers — and some of them are real Christians.
Jotham left the high places standing, yet he still cared about the temple itself:
Verse 35 tells us that, though Jotham failed to remove the high places from Judah, he did build the upper Gate of the house of the Lord. So despite his lack of faith in getting rid of the high places of worship, he did have serious respect for the house of the Lord, God's only centre of worship. 2 Chronicles 27 tells us also that he did a lot of building on the wall of Ophel — that wall speaks of godly separation.
One writer ties the corruption among the people to the king's own neglect:
As the anointed king he was responsible to know the Lord's mind, and to walk according to it, so that he might lead the people in the way of God's commandments. The higher the position, the greater the influence; and so Jotham's neglect of the temple could not fail to open the door to the corruptions which the Spirit of God has pointed out.
For all these limits, no charge stands against this king. One writer notes how rare that is:
Jotham is the only one of all the Hebrew kings, from Saul down, against whom God has nothing to record. In this his character is in beautiful accord with his name, Jehovah-perfect. The whole world, we know, is "held accountable to God." "All have sinned," God says. But in his public life, Jotham, like Daniel, was perfect, or blameless.
- Pattern — Jotham copied his father Uzziah. That was good as far as it went, but not the highest obedience: Uzziah was not the man after God's own heart.
- Standard — David was the model for Hezekiah and Josiah. Copy a parent or an admired Christian instead of the one perfect Example, and you repeat Jotham's mistake.
- Strength — He grew strong because he ordered his ways before God. When our ways are no longer ordered before God, strength leaves us.
- Restraint — He stayed out of the temple. Commentators differ on this: one sees a son who refused his father's folly, another sees a king who was not a worshipper.
- Reach — He left the high places standing. The higher the position, the greater the influence — and his neglect of the temple opened the door to corruption among the people.
Only, the high places were not removed the people still sacrificed and burned incense on the high places. It was he who built the upper gate of the house of Jehovah.
Jotham's record in Kings is short and mostly good. Then one word turns the verdict: he built a new gate at the temple, but the shrines on the hills still stood.
One writer places Jotham between the idol-worshipping kings and the wholehearted ones. His weakness was the order of his priorities.
Jotham, king of Judah, held a position midway between these two classes. He was not an idolater, and yet the house of the Lord did not hold the place in his thoughts that it deserved. You could say he began his work outside the sanctuary. He went out to the mountains to build before he had gone into the sanctuary to worship. He stood on the battlefield before he had stood at the altar… True, he did much. He built castles and towers. He even went so far as to build the high gate of the temple of the Lord. Yet despite all this there was a "nevertheless" — the high places were not removed, and the people still sacrificed and made offerings on the high places.
God named one place for sacrifice, and that settled the matter.
The Word alone must govern them in everything to do with worship, as indeed in everything else. The Lord would choose His own centre. There His people must come with their burnt offerings and sacrifices… The time soon came, sadly, when Israel chose high places for themselves. Some of these were for idol worship, and some for the worship of the Lord. But all the high places were offensive in His sight, whatever the motives of those who set them up. They were the expression of self-will — of hearts not subject to His commandments. Some of Judah's best kings tolerated high places, not those dedicated to idols, we may be sure, but those where people professed to worship the Lord. This weakness is specially recorded of Jotham (2 Kings 15:35), Asa (2 Chron. 15:17), and Jehoshaphat (2 Chron. 20:33).
Another writer shows why worship in the wrong place was still dangerous.
True, they offered the sacrifices and incense to the Lord. But Scripture said Jerusalem was "the place where people ought to worship." Many godly Israelites probably thought this departure unimportant. It only paved the way for greater and more serious violations of the law. God's people are only safe while they hold closely to the very letter of the word of God. The slightest departures are often the first step toward wide and serious disobedience to God's will as revealed in His Word.
One writer sees a deliberate choice in the gate at the end of the verse.
The "high gate" led from the king's house to the temple, and Jotham's building it (rebuilding, or repairing) is very significant. He wanted free access from his own house to that of the Lord. He would strengthen the link between the two houses. To use a military picture, he kept his line of supply open to the source of his strength and wisdom. This is one of the secrets of his prosperity and power.
One writer links the two halves of Jotham's record.
Could there be a connection between Jotham not being a worshipper and the idol worship of the people? If the Lord had held His rightful place in Jotham's heart, such open disobedience and rebellion would have been an unbearable grief to him.
The same writer applies this to servants today.
There are servants today who work hard and eagerly, caring, or seeming to care, for the Lord's interests… They seek to guard God's people from the enemy's attacks. They are first to draw the sword in defence of the truth they have received. Yet they have never entered into the enjoyment of their highest privileges themselves. They serve outside, but they have not learned what it is to worship in the holiest. It was in this very thing, we judge, that Jotham failed.
Jotham's son Ahaz used the shrines his father had left standing.
"He sacrificed and made offerings on the high places" (not removed in Jotham's day, 2 Kings 15:35), "and on the hills and under every green tree." It seems strange that the best of men often have the worst of sons.
- Left — The high places stayed. A shrine of human choosing is self-will, however sincere the worship offered there.
- Built — The gate Jotham raised linked palace to temple. He kept his own line to God open, and it made him strong.
- Missed — He built outside before he worshipped inside. Service can run ahead of worship and still earn a good name.
- Spread — The king's heart shaped the nation. A heart that held God would have grieved over what the people did.
- Inherited — What one generation tolerates, the next uses. Ahaz burned incense in the very high places his father never pulled down.
And the rest of the acts of Jotham, and all that he did, are they not written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Judah?
Verse 36 closes Jotham's reign the way Kings closes most reigns. The fuller account, it says, lies somewhere else. Two questions follow: which book it means, and what kind of king left a record this short.
The verse ends by pointing to another book. One writer lists books of this kind and shows how the writer of Kings used them.
In several places we find references to other books. They contain more about the life of the king in question, and the writer may have based his accounts on them. One is the book of the acts of Solomon (1 Kings 11:41). Others, named several times, are the book of the chronicles of the kings of Israel (1 Kings 14:19; 2 Kings 15:31) and the book of the chronicles of the kings of Judah (1 Kings 14:29; 2 Kings 24:5)... The author of the books of Kings was able to use these "references" under the guidance of the Holy Spirit while writing his godly inspired work.
The fuller record kept two things about this king: his wars and his ways. One commentator takes each word in turn.
"All his wars" implies that he kept fighting enemies through his sixteen years' reign. He subdued some, like the Ammonites. He drove back the invasions of others (Rezin king of Syria, and Pekah king of Israel). His "ways" too were written. God's saints are called to walk, as well as to war. "I have fought the good fight," said one; "I have finished the race," he also adds. This last was his "ways." Ours, like king Jotham's, "are written in the book." May we say then, like another Hebrew king, "I will guard my ways"!
What the record does not contain is itself striking, and writers read it in two ways. One treats the silence as a clean sheet:
Jotham is the only one of all the Hebrew kings, from Saul down, against whom God has nothing to record. In this his character is in beautiful accord with his name, Jehovah-perfect. We know the whole world is "held accountable to God." "All have sinned," God says. But in his public life, Jotham, like Daniel, was perfect, or blameless.
Another writer finds a real failure in him. Jotham let the high places of worship stand.
Even Jotham, who was mostly faithful to God, failed by allowing the high places of worship to continue (ch. 15:34-35).
Among the acts that were written down, the building of the upper gate of the temple is given special weight — and connected to the strength his reign enjoyed.
The "high gate" led from the king's house to the temple (see 2 Chron. 23:20), and Jotham's building it (rebuilding, or repairing) is very significant. He wished free access from his own house to that of the Lord. He would strengthen the link between the two houses. To use a military picture, he kept his line of communication open with the source of his supplies of strength and wisdom. This is one of the secrets of his prosperity and power... That high gate between the palace and the temple was better than a wall right around his kingdom. It is in communion with God that all real prosperity and power is found.
The record lists what Jotham built. It does not say why. One writer stops at that gap and applies it to servants today.
As a builder he excelled, here too following in his father's footsteps. We are not told whether he built to secure the Lord's inheritance, or to promote his own might and glory in his kingdom. There are servants today who work hard and with zeal, caring — or seeming to care — for the Lord's interests. Their motives may be mixed, and still the Lord can use them for the good of His people. They work to guard the people of God from enemy attack. They are the first to draw the sword in defence of the truth they have received. Yet they have never entered into the enjoyment of their own highest privileges. They serve outside, but they have not learned what it is to worship in the holiest place.
- Written elsewhere. The closing question points to other records the writer of Kings drew on — used, one writer says, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
- Written as wars. His sixteen years were years of conflict: Ammon subdued, Syria and Israel pressing in from outside.
- Written as ways. The fuller record keeps not only his battles but his walk. Our ways are written in the book too, one writer presses.
- Written with a gate. The gate he built kept the road open between his house and God's house. That open link was one secret of his strength.
- Written unfinished. Commentators differ on the verdict. One finds nothing on record against him. Another points to the high places he left standing.
In those days Jehovah began to send against Judah Rezin the king of Syria, and Pekah the son of Remaliah.
Two kings march on Judah in this verse, but the Lord Himself is the one who sends them. Jotham's reign was one of the better ones in Judah's history, so why did the trouble start then — and why did it only begin?
One writer gives the reason behind the sending:
Judah, like Israel, was getting worse fast, and the LORD disciplined them with judgments.
The verse names Pekah by his father, Remaliah. His record shows how he got Israel's throne, and what he later did to Judah:
He was the son of Remaliah and captain to Pekahiah, king of Israel. He murdered him, then seized the throne, and reigned 20 years... He invaded Judah, and killed 120,000 in one day, and carried away 200,000 women, sons and daughters... Later Pekah formed an alliance with Rezin, king of Damascus, against Judah. But Ahaz, king of Judah, called Tiglath-pileser to help him, and he killed Rezin and destroyed Damascus.
Israel and Judah were two halves of the same people, so this attack is a family quarrel. One writer traces where such weakness comes from:
When it is not the faith of God's people that is the source of their strength, one enemy destroyed only makes room for another. The Assyrian soon appears on the scene... The Assyrian invades the land. Israel, allied with the king of Syria, turns its last efforts against Judah. A sorrowful picture of the people of God! The alliance between Syria and Israel brings out the king of Judah's unfaithfulness, and entangles him in the snares of the Assyrian.
Jotham himself did what was right. One writer shows what was still missing in his reign:
The notice of Jotham is very brief... In a general way he did right in the sight of the Lord, but it seems he showed no energy. While he did right, the people still acted corruptly... Two things mark his reign: the king was personally righteous but without zeal, while the people, acting corruptly, were getting themselves ready to follow Ahaz in all his abominations.
Another writer connects the people's idolatry to something missing in the king himself:
May there not be a connection between Jotham's not being a worshipper, and the idolatrous practices of the people? For if the LORD had held His rightful place in Jotham's heart, it would have been unbearable grief to him to watch such open disobedience and rebellion.
Two reigns had looked prosperous on the surface. One writer looks underneath them:
If we examine these two reigns, we see prosperity, and in part fidelity. It is said of Uzziah that "he did what was right in the eyes of the LORD," and the same of his son Jotham. God not having yet withdrawn His hand, there were blessings belonging to them; but look at what there was below... He takes account of evil, and that before it shows itself; for He does not withdraw His hand until there is no remedy.
So why did the attack stop short? One writer points to the king himself:
The sin of Judah required the discipline of God, but the godliness of their leader could take away the consequences of that discipline. This happened later under godly Hezekiah when the Assyrian came. It seems also that this may have been the case during the reign of Jotham.
The next chapter shows the same two kings at the walls of Jerusalem, and the difference is the man on the throne:
The judgment prepared for the people under Jotham now overtakes Ahaz because of his unfaithfulness. We are told, "Then Rezin king of Syria and Pekah the son of Remaliah, king of Israel, came up to wage war on Jerusalem, and they besieged Ahaz but could not conquer him."
- Sender. The armies belong to Rezin and Pekah, but the sending belongs to the Lord — He answered Judah's decline with discipline.
- Began. He takes account of evil before it shows itself, and He does not withdraw His hand until there is no remedy. The invasion starts as a warning, not a verdict.
- Gap. Jotham did right, yet the people still acted corruptly; a righteous king without zeal cannot make a corrupt people right.
- Delay. The godliness of a leader can hold back the consequences of discipline — the threat began in Jotham's days, but the blow did not fall then.
- Arrival. What was prepared under Jotham fell on Ahaz, and even then Jerusalem stood — the same pressure tests whoever holds the throne.
And Jotham slept with his fathers, and was buried with his fathers in the city of David his father; and Ahaz his son reigned in his stead.
Jotham's sixteen years in Jerusalem end in one short line. It reads like any other royal obituary. Yet it hands Judah's throne from the one king with a clean record to one of the worst. How much can a good reign pass on?
The phrase is not a description of the funeral. One writer, writing about a later king, separates two expressions Kings uses. He points to this verse and the next chapter as proof:
"So Jehoiakim slept with his fathers" only states that he died. In Scripture that is a different expression from "buried with his fathers," as you can see by comparing 2 Kings 15:38 and 16:20.
Jotham's verse records both: that he died, and that he was buried with his fathers in the city of David.
Jotham's obituary is unusual for what is missing from it. Scripture names no sin and charges no failure. That stands out across the whole line of kings:
"All his wars" means that through his sixteen years as king he kept fighting his enemies. He subdued some, like the Ammonites. He drove back the invasions of others (Rezin king of Syria, and Pekah king of Israel). His "ways" too were written. God's saints are called to walk, as well as to war... Jotham is the only one of all the Hebrew kings, from Saul down, against whom God has nothing to record. Here his character beautifully matches his name, Jehovah-perfect... "All have sinned," God says. But in his public life, Jotham, like Daniel, was perfect, or blameless.
Kings picks out one building project: the upper gate of the temple. Older translations call it the "high gate." Its position explains why it mattered:
The "high gate" led from the king's house to the temple... He wanted free access from his own house to the house of the Lord. He wanted to strengthen the link between the two houses. In military terms, he kept his supply line open to the source of his strength and wisdom. This is one of the secrets of his prosperity and power.
Another writer draws out what God chose to keep on record:
Jotham did not become puffed up by his strength. Being humble, he was occupied with the house of God. What a privilege when a believer leaves behind him, as a remembrance, what he has done for the house of God! God records this deed and leaves it with us as a memorial for Jotham.
Yet his people did not follow him, and the fault is not laid only at their door. One writer puts part of the blame on the good kings themselves:
But "the people still followed corrupt practices" (2 Chronicles 27:2). These godly kings were not decided enough, and did not dare to attack idolatry at its root. Chronicles tells us that Jotham "became mighty, because he ordered his ways before the LORD his God." Godliness is a source of strength for us too, and of spiritual power. The moment our ways are not ordered before God, our strength leaves us.
The last clause of the verse undoes much of the rest of it. One writer sets father and son side by side:
Jotham, the son of Uzziah, may not have had a glorious reign, but he himself kept to the right paths of the Lord. Then came a most wicked son, Ahaz, and Scripture says nothing good of him. The patience of the Lord shines all the brighter against this dark background.
The pattern also runs the other way. Ahaz himself fathered Hezekiah, and one writer credits grace rather than upbringing:
If godliness does not pass from father to son, grace can work in the heart and direct the steps of a man who had the most wicked father. This was the case with the son of Ahaz.
The verse before said the Lord began to send Rezin and Pekah against Judah in Jotham's days. This verse hands that unfinished war to Ahaz:
The judgment prepared for the people under Jotham now overtakes Ahaz because of his unfaithfulness.
- Slept — "slept with his fathers" only tells us he died. Being buried with his fathers is a second thing, said separately. Scripture does not treat the two as one.
- Blameless — Jotham is the only king from Saul onward with nothing on record against him. His life matched his name, Jehovah-perfect.
- Gate — the one work Kings remembers is the gate joining palace to temple. Free access to God was one secret of his strength, and God kept that deed on record.
- Undecided — the people still followed corrupt practices, because he never struck idolatry at the root. Strength goes when our ways are no longer ordered before God.
- Handed On — a clean reign cannot hand on godliness. Ahaz took the throne and the war, and the judgment held back under the father fell on the unfaithful son.
In the seventeenth year of Pekah the son of Remaliah, Ahaz the son of Jotham, king of Judah, began to reign.
Ahaz becomes king of Judah in the seventeenth year of Pekah, king of Israel, and the verse names his father, Jotham, whose record was good. Why did a good father produce such a son, and what does Scripture mean when it weighs a king as good or evil?
Ahaz knew better. One writer shows the pattern the kings before him had set, and that Ahaz turned from it with his eyes open.
Ahaz, king of Judah, came to the throne at a remarkable time in the history of God's earthly people. The three kings before him — Jotham, Azariah and Amaziah — reigned for about 130 years, and all of them had "done what was right in the sight of the Lord." Ahaz surely knew all this. So he understood what God expects of a king. He began to reign at 20 years of age. Sadly, the record says he "did not do what was right in the sight of the Lord," but acted "according to the abominations of the heathen."
One commentator notes how often such a reversal happens, and where the gap in a royal household may lie.
It seems strange that the best of men often have the worst of sons. Ahaz's mother is not mentioned, and it is possible that his father made an unhappy choice of a wife. A king carries the heavy weight of government every day. He can give little time to training his children, so that important duty must fall largely on the mother.
Commentators differ here. Another reads the silence about his mother as mercy: the record leaves out her name "as though God would spare bringing shame to his mother" (H. L. Rossier).
This verse dates Ahaz by another king's reign, and the numbers in 2 Kings do not line up easily. One writer works through them and points to an interregnum — a gap with no king on the throne.
In the history of the fall of Samaria and the Assyrian invasions, there are questions of chronology. Some come from the book itself, and some from comparing it with secular history. Some have resolved the interval by an interregnum. This is at any rate right in substance. The record says Hoshea reigned nine years. Yet he begins to reign in the twelfth year of Ahaz, and Pekah was killed in the third year of Ahaz. Ahaz began in the seventeenth year of Pekah, and Pekah reigned twenty years.
God's verdict on a king is not about his skill as a ruler. What counts is how he stands toward God, and by that measure admired kings can look very different.
Notice that this word "evil" is always used with reference to the Lord. Turning away from God does often hand the guilty one over to every kind of moral evil, to crime and impurity. But it is not always so. Jeroboam I, Joash of Israel, and Jeroboam II were remarkable kings in the eyes of men. Two of them were "saviours" of their nation. They helped build its reputation and win back its lands. But for God, the question is a different one.
God's first move toward this wicked king was not judgment but reassurance.
How touching is the patient grace God has toward this evil king! He reassures him instead of crushing him. He announces deliverance to him. He says to him, "Take heed and be quiet" — let Me act. He says, "Fear not" to a man who had everything to fear.
Under attack, Ahaz looked to a foreign king for rescue instead of to the LORD. Yet the promise tied to David's family did not fall with him.
When Rezin, king of Syria, and Pekah, king of Israel, came against Jerusalem and besieged Ahaz, he appealed to Tiglath-pileser to save him out of their hands. He did not cry to Jehovah for the deliverance He had promised to His people… Isaiah told Ahaz to ask the LORD God for a sign of any kind, to calm the king's fears and show that the LORD would preserve the house of David. When wicked Ahaz refused, the prophet spoke that great sign, which would come true over seven hundred years later: the virgin would conceive and bring forth a son, even Immanuel. The house of David might be punished and disciplined, but the royal family could not come to a full end, for the promised One had to come from David.
- Standard — Ahaz began with 130 years of good kings behind him, so he knew what a king of Judah was meant to be.
- Contrast — a godly father can have a wicked son. Writers look at the home and the mother's part, but they never excuse the son.
- Measure — God calls a king "evil" by how he stands toward Him, not by national success. Men praised such kings; God asked a different question.
- Grace — God's first word to this besieged king was "Fear not." He offered deliverance before judgment.
- Line — Ahaz refused the sign. Yet God's answer reached past him to Immanuel, keeping David's line for the promised One.
Ahaz was twenty years old when he began to reign; and he reigned sixteen years in Jerusalem. And he did not what was right in the sight of Jehovah his God, like David his father,
Ahaz takes the throne of Judah after a line of kings whose reigns God had already judged. Scripture does not describe him; it measures him against David — which raises three questions: what does God count as right, why is David the standard, and what does God do with a king who fails it?
Ahaz did not inherit a corrupt court. The kings just before him had good records, and he knew it.
Ahaz, king of Judah, came to the throne at a remarkable time in the history of God's earthly people. The three kings before him — Jotham, Azariah and Amaziah — reigned for about 130 years, and all of them had "done what was right in the eyes of the LORD." Ahaz surely knew this. So he knew the standard God sets for a king.
How does a son like this come from a house like that? One writer looks at Ahaz's upbringing.
It seems strange that the best of men often have the worst of sons. Ahaz's mother is not named, and it is possible that his father chose his wife badly. A king has the heavy work of government pressing on him all the time. He can give little time to training his children, so most of that important duty falls to the mother.
The phrase is not a general rating of character. People admired kings whose record before God was terrible.
Notice that this word "evil" is always used in reference to the Lord. It is true that turning away from God often hands the guilty person over to all sorts of moral evil, to crime and impurity, but it is not always so. Jeroboam I, Joash of Israel and Jeroboam II were remarkable kings in the eyes of men. Two of them were "saviours" of their nation, helping to build its reputation and win back its lands. But for God the question is a different one. What matters is the relationship these kings had with Him, and Ahaz king of Judah here as well.
The verse could have compared Ahaz with the good kings just before him. Instead it reaches back to David — and the reason lies in David's heart.
Scripture says this great thing about David: he followed the LORD with all his heart. The LORD had power to take hold of His people's hearts completely. This became the standard for measuring later unfaithful kings: "his heart was not perfect with the LORD his God, as was the heart of David his father." The LORD had all of David's heart, and worship flowed straight out of that. The later kings worshipped the Baals, and that is why they compare so badly with David.
The same standard removes every excuse a bad upbringing might offer. Ahaz's own son Hezekiah shows it:
His father set a very bad example, but Hezekiah did not follow it. Everyone should realize that he does not have to walk in his father's godless footsteps.
The numbers in this verse raise a well-known puzzle.
Ahaz began his reign, Scripture says, when he was twenty years old, and he reigned sixteen years in Jerusalem. And Hezekiah, his son, was twenty-five years old when he came to the throne. This seems to teach that Ahaz was only eleven when Hezekiah was born, which is very unlikely, if not impossible. Modern commentators have suggested various solutions, and none of them is satisfactory. One writer answers them well: "It is never advisable to find any fault with the text except where there is no other tolerable solution, and that is not the case here."
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This verdict does not bring instant judgment. God sends a prophet to the king He has just condemned.
How moving is the patient grace God shows toward this evil king! He reassures him instead of crushing him. He announces rescue to him. He says to him, "Take heed and be quiet" — let Me act. He says "Fear not" to a man who himself had everything to fear.
Ahaz leaned on a human ally instead of God's word. The support he chose became the tool that struck him.
Our fear that trouble will come makes us look for support in what seems to us a safe path. Those are the very things God uses to chastise us. The kings of Israel and Syria came against Judah of their own will. God stops them. Ahaz and his people wanted to lean on the king of Assyria, and in the end God makes the Assyrian come against them.
- Standard set. David is the measure because his heart was wholly God's — not the nearest good example, but the original one.
- Standard refused. Ahaz knew that measure from three good reigns before him, and chose the kings of Israel instead.
- Measured by God. "Evil" is always measured against the Lord. Men God condemned were national heroes to their own people.
- Grace first. God met this condemned king with "Fear not" and a promise of rescue before any judgment came.
- Prop becomes rod. Ahaz refused God's word and leaned on Assyria. Assyria became the power that came against him.
but walked in the way of the kings of Israel, and even caused his son to pass through the fire, according to the abominations of the nations that Jehovah had dispossessed from before the children of Israel.
Ahaz sat on David's throne, but he followed the kings of the north — even burning his own son. How does a king of Judah fall this far, and why is copying those kings the heaviest charge against him?
Judah's kings are charged in many ways. This one is the heaviest, and it has a starting point.
Another effect of the earlier connection with Ahab is that Ahaz walked in the ways of the kings of Israel. This expression seems to mark the greatest guilt of the kings of Judah. Scripture uses it after the marriage link with Ahab. Ahaz burned his children in the fire. Manasseh consulted mediums and spiritists. Could the chosen nation sink lower?
A good king began this pattern generations earlier, with one bad alliance.
The kings of Israel had set a deadly example. That course led Judah and all Israel to ruin (see 2 Kings 16:3). All this began with the godly Jehoshaphat's alliance with Ahab. Evil bears fruit, and that fruit keeps reproducing itself for a long time.
The wording is mild. The act was not. One writer describes what it involved and where Ahaz did it.
He made idolatrous images and burned incense in the Valley of the Son of Hinnom. There he sacrificed his own children to the fire (v. 3). They did this by placing the young child in the arms of a metal idol. Then they lit a fire under it and beat drums to drown out the child's cries. That is how hard-hearted the wickedness of idolatry is. Yet men like Ahaz think they are being very religious when they do it.
Older translations read "pass through the fire" here instead of "burned his son as an offering." One writer names the god behind the rite, and refuses the softer reading.
Satan so blinded parents that they gave their own children as sacrifices to Molech, the god of the Ammonites... Some have argued from "passing through the fire," here and elsewhere, that their children were not burned. But this seems a kindly effort to soften how wicked the act really was. It was the fullest, though not the only, profaning of the name of Israel's God. The Lord accepted a sheep or an ox, or even a much smaller sacrifice; Satan, under these names, demanded their sons.
The verse compares Ahaz with the peoples God removed from Canaan. God had warned Israel long before about those same practices.
A solemn warning closes this chapter. God would cast the people of Canaan out of the land because of their vileness. The Lord would not spare His own people if they practised these things. They did commit all this wickedness. Israel, cast out of the land and wandering homeless, shows that God carried out this solemn warning.
God measures a king in one direction only. His verdict can fall on a ruler the public admires.
He did what was evil in the sight of the Lord like the kings of Israel. Notice that this word "evil" is always given to us in reference to the Lord... Jeroboam I, Joash of Israel, and Jeroboam II were remarkable monarchs in the eyes of men. Two of them were "saviours" of their nation, helping to build its reputation and to win back its territory. But for God the question is a different one. It is a matter of what relationship these kings, like Ahaz king of Judah here, had with Him.
Syria and Israel soon besieged Ahaz. God's answer to a king this far gone was not what you would expect.
The Lord sends Isaiah to meet the king... How moving is the patient grace God shows toward this evil king! He reassures him instead of crushing him. He announces deliverance to him. He says, "Take care and be quiet" — let Me act. He says "Fear not" to the man who had everything to fear.
The attack aimed at more than one man. That is why Jerusalem held.
"The two tails of these smoking firebrands" aimed to remove king Ahaz from the throne and set up "the son of Tabeal" in his place... This was surely Satan's plot, if not man's, to destroy the line of David. For this reason God did not hand Jerusalem over to them... A remnant would be left to return to the land, and the virgin would bear a son. So a king would never fail on the throne of David.
- Pattern — Copying the kings of Israel is the heaviest charge against any king of Judah. It began with one godly king's alliance with Ahab, and that evil bred on for generations.
- Practice — The mild wording covers real child-sacrifice by fire in the Valley of Hinnom. Reading it as anything less only softens the wickedness.
- Power — Behind the idol stood Satan. God accepted an ox or a sheep; Satan demanded their sons — and the men doing it felt religious.
- Precedent — Judah took up the same practices God expelled the Canaanites for. He warned Israel of the same end, and the scattered nation shows He kept His word.
- Patience — God weighs a man by his relationship with Him, not by his public record. Yet He met this king with "Fear not," guarded David's line, and promised the virgin's Son.
And he sacrificed and burned incense on the high places, and on the hills, and under every green tree.
Ahaz became king of Judah and took up worship at hilltop shrines all over the land. The question this verse raises is not whether he was religious — he was — but why God counts a scattered devotion like his as evil.
Earlier kings of Judah left the hill shrines standing but kept their own hands clean. Ahaz did not.
None of the kings before him had done away with the high places. They had let the people burn incense there without joining in this idolatry themselves. Ahaz himself "sacrificed and made offerings on the high places and on the hills and under every green tree" (2 Kings 16:4). He did what was evil in the sight of the Lord like the kings of Israel.
God chose one place for sacrifice. The motive behind any other shrine did not rescue it.
It seems to have been the custom of the nations of Canaan to set up places of worship for their false gods on various heights, chosen to suit their own desires, which Satan controlled. The Lord told His people about the ways of these nations, and forbade them to copy them. He would choose His own centre, and there His people must come with their burnt offerings and sacrifices. The Israelites were to destroy all the high places of these nations. In that way they would show their horror at their wicked ways. But human nature is no better in those who are near to God than in those who are far from Him. Sad to say, the time soon came when Israel chose high places for themselves. Some of these were for idolatrous worship, and some for the worship of the Lord. But all the high places were offensive in His sight, whatever the motives of those who set them up. They were the expression of self-will, of hearts not subject to His commandments.
People filled the hills and trees with objects they had made. Those objects had a defence ready to hand.
They set up for themselves sacred pillars and wooden images on high hills and under green trees. They would no doubt say that these things were there to remind them of God. But God had forbidden such things. Using them always lowered God in their view, so that in the end the things themselves became the objects of their worship.
"Evil" here is not a comment on Ahaz's competence or his public record. Rossier points out that people admired some of the worst kings.
Notice that the word "evil" is always used with reference to the Lord. It does happen that forsaking God hands the guilty one over to all kinds of moral evil, to crime and impurity. But it is not always so. Jeroboam I, Joash of Israel, and Jeroboam II were remarkable monarchs in the eyes of men. Two of them were "saviours" of their nation... But for God, the question is a different one. It is a matter of working out what relationship these kings — like Ahaz king of Judah here — had with Him.
Ahaz had a temple he could have gone to. Another writer names what his choice looks like today.
His father Jotham did not burn incense in the high places, but he had allowed those places to remain. Ahaz forgot the temple of God and burned incense in the high places and other outdoor areas (v.4). He was like many today who say they need not gather with others to worship God. They claim they can worship just as well while enjoying the scenery, when they hunt or fish or play golf or hike in the mountains.
What follows is not destruction. God sends a man to speak to this king.
The Lord sends Isaiah to meet the king. The prophet speaks in grace to this wicked king... But how touching is the patient grace God has toward this evil king! He reassures him instead of crushing him. He announces deliverance to him. He says to him, "Be careful, be quiet" — let Me act. He says, "Do not fear" to the man who, for his part, had everything to fear.
- Tolerated. Earlier kings left the high places standing but never used them. Ahaz sacrificed there himself. What one generation allows, the next joins in.
- Self-willed. Every high place offended God, whatever the worshipper's motive. Each one expressed a heart not subject to His commandments.
- Lowered. Objects kept as reminders of God ended up taking His place. People worshipped the reminders.
- Measured. God measures "evil" by a man's relationship to Him, not by his standing with people. He counted able rulers evil, and He weighs Ahaz by the same rule.
- Met with grace. To the king who had scattered his worship across the hills, God still sent a prophet saying, "Do not fear."
Then Rezin the king of Syria, and Pekah son of Remaliah, the king of Israel, came up to Jerusalem to battle; and they besieged Ahaz, but were unable to conquer him.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
At that time Rezin king of Syria recovered Elath to Syria, and drove the Jews from Elath; and the Syrians came to Elath, and dwelt there to this day.
While Syria and Israel pressed Jerusalem, Judah lost a small port far to the south — and never got it back. Commentators read that loss as the cost of a king who would not trust God.
Elath was no minor village. Its story runs from Israel's wilderness years to the days of Rome.
A seaport town at the far north of the Gulf of Akaba branch of the Red Sea. It is first mentioned during the wanderings of the Israelites. Later it belonged to Solomon's kingdom. Nearby, at Ezion-geber, he kept a fleet of ships. Afterwards we read that Azariah built it and restored it to Judah. Later still Rezin conquered it, and the Syrians held it, until it became a border town of Rome.
An earlier king, Azariah, won Elath back for Judah. Under Ahaz, Judah lost it again.
His son Azariah succeeded him. He recovered Elath for Judah and restored it. This city, and all the territory of Edom it belonged to, had once been under David's rule and part of Solomon's kingdom. After Azariah, it did not remain in the hands of Judah for long. Sixty-eight years later, Rezin the king of Syria recovered it.
The previous verse says the allied kings could not overcome Ahaz. This verse shows what they did manage to take, and one writer explains how both can stand together.
These statements do not clash with 2 Kings 16:5, which says these allied kings "could not overcome him." They could not get into the city or reach the king himself, though they entered the land. When it says "God delivered him" and "they smote him," it means his people and his kingdom. Elath was also lost to Judah at this time.
Commentators differ over who settled in the city afterwards. The dictionary above has the Syrians holding it. Another writer names the Edomites, as the verse above does.
However, Rezin captured Elath, a city of Judah, and drove the people of Judah out of the city, allowing the Edomites to take possession of it.
Losing Elath did not send Ahaz to God. It sent him looking for a stronger ally.
This spurred Ahaz to appeal, not to God, but to the king of Assyria, Tiglath Pileser, telling him that he, Ahaz, was his servant and asking his help against Syria and Israel. How foolish a move this was for a king of Judah! It cost him something, too. He stole from the Lord the silver and gold in the house of the Lord. He also took silver and gold from the treasuries of the king's house. He used it all to pay the king of Assyria for his protection.
God had already offered Ahaz a different way out. He sent the prophet Isaiah to him in the middle of this crisis, and Isaiah came with a word of grace.
The Lord sends Isaiah to meet the king. His son Shear-jashub comes with him. The name means "the remnant shall return." He speaks in grace to this wicked king... How touching is the patient grace God shows toward this evil king! He reassures him instead of crushing him; He announces deliverance to him; He says to him, "Take heed and be quiet" — let Me act. He says, "Fear not" to the man who had everything to fear.
This verse also carries a quiet milestone in the Bible's vocabulary. Where the ESV reads "the men of Judah," older translations read "the Jews" — the first time that name appears in the Bible.
A man of Judah. The term does not occur until after the division of the kingdom. 2 Kings 16:6; 2 Kings 25:25. It applies to anyone belonging to the two tribes. It may also have been used of any of the ten tribes who stayed in the land at the captivity, or who returned there. The Old Testament uses the name most often in Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther, and Jeremiah.
- Inherited — Elath was a Red Sea port. It served Solomon's fleet, and Azariah won it back for Judah.
- Forfeited — Sixty-eight years after Azariah restored it, Rezin took it back. What one king regained, another lost.
- Exposed — Jerusalem's walls held, but the kingdom bled. The allied kings never reached Ahaz himself; they struck his land and his people.
- Refused — God met the crisis with Isaiah, a promise that a remnant would return, and the words "Fear not." Ahaz answered by buying Assyria with temple silver.
- Renamed — In this decline the name "Jews" enters the Bible for the first time. It was born after the kingdom split, and it marked what was left.
And Ahaz sent messengers to Tiglath-Pileser king of Assyria, saying, I am thy servant and thy son come up, and save me out of the hand of the king of Syria, and out of the hand of the king of Israel, who have risen up against me.
Syria and Israel are attacking Judah, so King Ahaz begs Assyria's king Tiglath-pileser for help instead of turning to God. Commentators see here the moment David's line swapped trust in God for a foreign alliance, and they ask what that cost.
Behind this message lies a choice between two protectors.
Ahaz prefers to trust the king of Assyria against Pekah and Rezin rather than to trust the Lord and obey Him. This explains his answer to Isaiah.
One writer draws out the principle. The enemy Ahaz feared had no power; the ally he chose became the real danger.
What the Christian needs is to be sure of his relationship with God. Then there is nothing to fear. The people do not have to dread the strength of the enemy. What weakens them is their own iniquity. The danger that threatens comes to nothing. But if we look for any support at all in something of this world, God abandons us. He leaves us to face the consequences of the support we chose. So Pekah and Rezin had no strength against Judah, because God would not hand Jerusalem over to these allied kings. But Ahaz, fearful and unbelieving, rests on Assyria — and it is the Assyrian that Judah must be saved from. Meanwhile God reveals the true Deliverer, the real support: Immanuel.
The wording of the message matters as much as its purpose. A king of Judah puts himself below a pagan king and begs him for rescue.
How shameful is his fawning appeal to the king of Assyria: "I am your servant and your son. Come up and rescue me from the hand of the king of Syria." And that greedy king, for the silver and gold sent him, went to Damascus and killed Rezin, its king.
Another writer weighs those words against Ahaz's family line.
What a solemn departure from the Lord, and from dependence on Him, for a son of king David.
God had already sent a prophet to Ahaz with the rescue he was now begging Assyria to supply.
How touching is the patient grace God has toward this evil king! He reassures him instead of crushing him; He announces deliverance to him; He says to him, "Take heed and be quiet" — let Me act. He says, "Fear not" to the man who, for his part, had everything to fear... The Spirit of God, through the prophet, says to Ahaz: "Ask for yourself a sign from the LORD your God." Ahaz answered, "I will not ask, and I will not put the LORD to the test." He covered his unbelief and his disobedience with a show of reverence.
Another writer names that polite refusal for what it is.
How often the hypocrisy of unbelief tries in this way to hide its contempt of Jehovah! Its presumption despises the word of His grace, yet it puts on the dress of superior reverence and humility... Ahaz shrank from God even in His goodness. Flesh never trusts God.
Ahaz's appeal to Assyria came with a price tag.
How foolish a move was this for a king of Judah! It cost him something too. He stole from the Lord the silver and gold that was in the house of the Lord. He also took silver and gold from the treasuries of the king's house. He used it to pay the king of Assyria for his protection.
The rescuer Ahaz hired became the affliction Isaiah had foretold. Hardship did not soften him.
The king of Assyria came, but instead of really helping him, afflicted him. He took the treasure Ahaz stripped for him from the house of the Lord. He took more from his own house and from the houses of the princes. It was just as the prophet Isaiah had warned him: "The LORD will bring upon you and upon your people and upon your father's house such days as have not come since the day that Ephraim departed from Judah — the king of Assyria." He trusted in man. He made flesh his strength, and his heart departed from the Lord... "And in the time of his distress he trespassed yet more against the LORD." How different was his great ancestor David! "In my distress I called upon the LORD."
Beyond politics, the link he forged reshaped Judah's worship.
The voluntary action of Ahaz put him and Judah in touch with the king of Assyria. It put them into slavery to Assyria. And it brought them into idolatry, because Ahaz went to meet the king of Assyria at Damascus and built an idolatrous altar copying the one he saw there.
- Fear — Ahaz's real weakness was not Syria and Israel. It was his own unbelief. God told him to be quiet and let Him act, and he refused.
- Words — calling himself the servant and son of a pagan king was a shameful fall for a son of David.
- Price — Ahaz bought the help with silver and gold stolen from the house of the Lord. He robbed the God who had offered to save him.
- Result — the hired rescuer afflicted him instead of helping him, and drew Judah into slavery and a copied Damascus altar.
- Alternative — the true support was Immanuel, the real Deliverer God revealed while Ahaz leaned on Assyria.
And Ahaz took the silver and the gold that was found in the house of Jehovah, and in the treasures of the king's house, and sent it [as] a present to the king of Assyria.
Jerusalem was under siege from two kings, and God had just sent Isaiah to tell Ahaz not to be afraid. Instead, Ahaz emptied the treasuries — even the Lord's own house — to buy Assyria's protection. Commentators read this verse as the moment Judah's king traded dependence on God for a paid alliance.
The silver and gold Ahaz sent was not his to give. One commentator counts the price of the appeal item by item:
This spurred Ahaz to appeal to the king of Assyria, Tiglath Pileser, and not to God. He told him that he (Ahaz) was his servant, and asked his help against Syria and Israel. How foolish a move was this on the part of a king of Judah! It cost him something too. He stole from the Lord the silver and gold that was in the house of the Lord. He also took silver and gold from the treasuries of the king's house, to pay the king of Assyria for his protection.
Ahaz had another option. Before he sent the gift, God spoke to him in the gentlest terms and invited him to name a sign:
How touching is the patient grace God has toward this evil king! He reassures him instead of crushing him; He announces deliverance to him; He says to him, "Be careful, be quiet" — let Me act. He says "do not fear" to him who on his part had everything to fear... The Spirit of God, through the prophet, says to Ahaz: "Ask a sign of the LORD your God." Ahaz answered, "I will not ask, and I will not put the LORD to the test." He coloured his unbelief and his disobedience with an appearance of piety. To put the Lord to the test was to distrust Him. But Ahaz did much more than distrust Him: he did not believe the word of the Lord.
The gift to Assyria was the choice Ahaz had already made in his heart. Rossier puts the two options side by side: "Ahaz prefers to trust in the king of Assyria against Pekah and Rezin rather than to trust in the Lord and obey Him."
Ahaz held the throne promised to David's line. Listen to how he speaks to a foreign king:
Uzziah was king of Judah when Tiglath-pileser carried captive the first of Israel's cities. It was to this same king of Assyria that Ahaz, the grandson of Uzziah, sent messengers: "I am your servant and your son: come up and save me from the hand of the king of Syria and from the hand of the king of Israel..." What a solemn departure from the Lord, and from dependence on Him, for a son of king David.
At first the payment seemed to work. But Judah had now sought the same alliance Israel had sought, and Rossier marks what followed: "What the Lord had pronounced against Israel, which had sought the support of Assyria, He now pronounces against Judah, who sought this same alliance." In the end the hired king turned on the man who paid him:
The king of Assyria came, but instead of helping him he "distressed him." He took the treasure Ahaz "stripped" for him from the house of the Lord, and from his own house, and the houses of the princes. It was just as the prophet Isaiah had forewarned him: "The LORD will bring upon you and upon your people and upon your father's house such days as have not come since the day that Ephraim departed from Judah — the king of Assyria." He trusted in man and leaned on human strength. His heart turned away from the Lord, and so he brought on himself and his kingdom the curse and barrenness that follow. "In the time of his distress he grew yet more faithless to the LORD." How different was his great ancestor David! "In my distress," he says, "I called upon the LORD; to my God I cried for help."
Ahaz would not ask for a sign, so God named one Himself — and it reached far past the crisis of the moment:
Rezin, King of Syria, and Pekah, the son of Remaliah, King of Israel, came against Jerusalem and besieged Ahaz. He appealed to Tiglath-pileser to save him out of their hands, instead of crying to the LORD for the deliverance He had promised to His people... When wicked Ahaz refused, the prophet gave that great sign, which would take place over seven hundred years later: the virgin would conceive and bring forth a son, even Immanuel. The house of David might suffer punishment and discipline, but there could be no full end of the royal family. The promised One had to come from David.
- Offer. God met Ahaz first, telling him to be quiet and not fear, and inviting him to ask for any sign he liked.
- Refusal. Ahaz declined the sign with a show of reverence. It was unbelief dressed as piety; he did not believe God's word.
- Payment. Instead of crying to God, he robbed the Lord's house and his own treasuries to hire Assyria. He called himself that king's servant and son.
- Reversal. The king he paid took the treasure and distressed him instead of helping him. Trusting man brought the curse Isaiah had already announced.
- Promise. Yet David's line could not fail. God gave the sign Ahaz refused to ask for — Immanuel, born of a virgin centuries later.
And the king of Assyria hearkened to him; and the king of Assyria went up against Damascus, and took it, and carried it captive to Kir, and put Rezin to death.
King Ahaz of Judah was afraid of two enemy kings, so he paid Assyria to come and save him. This verse is Assyria's answer — and it shows what that help cost a king of David's line.
The whole episode turns on where Ahaz looked when he was frightened. Isaiah had already come to him with God's promise of deliverance, and he had refused a sign. Instead he called himself the servant and son of a pagan king.
Ahaz prefers to trust the king of Assyria against Pekah and Rezin rather than to trust the Lord and obey Him… The Lord had already pronounced judgment on Israel for seeking Assyria's support. He now pronounces the same on Judah, which sought that same alliance.
The rescue was bought, and the money came from a place that was not Ahaz's to spend.
This spurred Ahaz to appeal, not to God, but to the king of Assyria, Tiglath-Pileser. He told him that he (Ahaz) was his servant, and asked his help against Syria and Israel. What a foolish move this was for a king of Judah! It cost him something too. He stole from the Lord the silver and gold that was in the house of the Lord. He also took silver and gold from the treasuries of the king's house. All of it went to pay the king of Assyria for his protection.
Damascus did not fall only because Ahaz paid for it. Its fall had been predicted long before, and the captives were sent back to the place their people came from.
Damascus was broken and the predicted judgment came. The King of Assyria, Tiglath-Pileser, carried it out. He drove the Syrians back to Kir, the place they had come from.
So God used Ahaz's faithless bargain to carry out a sentence He had already passed on Syria.
Read on its own, the verse looks like a policy that worked.
The first result of this trust in Assyria seemed to be favourable for Judah… The prophecy pronounced long before by Amos is now fulfilled.
The word "seemed" carries the weight. The protector Ahaz hired became the power that bled him.
The king of Assyria came, but he did not really help him. Instead he "distressed him." He took the treasure Ahaz "stripped" for him from the house of the Lord, from his own house, and from the houses of the princes. It was just as the prophet Isaiah had forewarned him: "The LORD will bring upon you and upon your people and upon your father's house such days as have not come since the day that Ephraim departed from Judah—the king of Assyria." He trusted in man and leaned on human strength. His heart turned away from the Lord, and he brought on himself and his kingdom the curse and barrenness that follow.
The verse ends with Damascus captured — and the next thing we read is that Ahaz went there to meet his new master. The visit produced more than a thank-you.
Ahaz is not at the end of his transgressions. Isaiah's prophecy had no effect on his conscience. He went to Damascus to meet the king of Assyria, whom he congratulated for his help and his success. He had seen Rezin's altar to false gods. He sends its pattern to Jerusalem and has it set up in the court of the temple. He finds a high priest to carry out this act of sacrilege.
The help he leaned on shaped the worship he came home to.
Commentators say the same mistake still repeats, long after Ahaz.
It is only the old leaning on Egypt that we see so often in Israel. In the end they found Egypt a broken reed… And yet how often we still look for help like this! We ask for or accept help that cuts us off from the help of God. All such things are only a denial of Him, who is the one security His people need.
- Asked — Isaiah's word from God made no difference to Ahaz. He asked a foreign king to save him instead of trusting the Lord.
- Paid — the help was not free. He stripped the silver and gold of the Lord's house and his own treasury to buy protection.
- Answered — Assyria listened. Damascus fell, its people went to Kir, and Rezin died — just as Amos had said long before.
- Distressed — the first result looked good. Then the hired protector turned on him, just as Isaiah had warned.
- Corrupted — the alliance put a pagan altar in the temple court. Help sought outside God reshapes the worship of the one who sought it.
And king Ahaz went to Damascus to meet Tiglath-Pileser king of Assyria; and he saw the altar that was at Damascus, and king Ahaz sent to Urijah the priest the form of the altar, and the pattern of it, according to all its workmanship.
Ahaz had asked Assyria, not the Lord, to rescue him from his enemies. Now the rescued king travels north to meet his rescuer, and what he brings home is not a treaty but the design of a foreign altar.
The trip to Damascus grew out of an earlier choice. Two kings, Pekah and Rezin, stood against Ahaz. He turned to a foreign army rather than to the Lord, and for a while it looked like a success.
Ahaz chose to trust the king of Assyria against Pekah and Rezin rather than to trust the Lord and obey Him. This explains his answer to Isaiah. … The first result of this trust in Assyria seemed to work out well for Judah. Tiglath-pileser captured Damascus, carried away its people, and put Rezin to death.
The king is not abandoning religion. He is upgrading it — swapping what God gave for what pleased him more, and finding a priest happy to help.
Ahaz went to Damascus to meet Tiglath-Pileser, likely to congratulate him for his victory. But while there Ahaz saw a Syrian altar that he evidently liked better than the altar of the Lord. He therefore sent the pattern of the altar to Urijah the priest at Jerusalem, instructing him to build one like it for the worship of Judah. Ahaz was therefore a religious man, but choosing wicked religion above the true worship of the Lord. Christendom has been guilty of the same evil in imitating the false worship of unbelievers.
The true altar was not a matter of taste. Its pattern came from God, given to Moses. Sending a rival pattern from Damascus was not decoration but replacement, and the same choice is still open today.
Moses is reminded again that the pattern shown to him on the mountain must be his guide. The wisdom of God alone could devise the altar which was to embody so many blessed truths. A king Ahaz, taken with the beauty of the Syrian altar, may reject the altar of God; but it was the ruin of him and of all Israel. So now men may refuse the preaching of the cross of Christ. By their own reckoning they find in it either a stumbling block or foolishness. So they choose an altar for their worship that suits their own tastes, one that will not offend the prejudices of the natural man. But, as with Ahaz, it can only end in their everlasting ruin. God alone can set the way and the manner of approach to Himself.
Uriah — Urijah in older translations — could have refused. Judah's priests had a record of standing up to a king who overstepped.
When Uzziah interfered with the order of the house of God, the faithful priests resisted him. But when Ahaz sent the pattern of the idolatrous altar from Damascus, Urijah the priest built it for him. He supported the king in his turning away from God.
He did everything the king ordered. That obedience had a direction to it.
He reversed the rule the apostles lived by: "We must obey God rather than men." He thought otherwise. His eye was on the honour that comes from man; theirs was on the honour that comes from God.
Ahaz used the new altar freely. One offering is missing from the list.
On this altar of new design Ahaz offers every kind of offering except the one he needed most for himself — the sin offering. The plain bronze altar stood before the house of the Lord. It seems to have offended his taste for beauty. So it was moved to a less noticeable place, on the north side of his own foreign substitute.
One writer asks whether the same swap happens today.
Do we not find something similar in today's religions? Men who claim to be Christians think they can come to God by an altar other than the altar of expiation — an altar they do not believe in. Like Rezin's altar, theirs is much broader and far better looking than God's. The old religious narrowness has given way to broader views, they say. It is no longer the blood of the cross that justifies and redeems the sinner. … The new altar has no point of contact with the old.
- Cause. Ahaz trusted Assyria instead of the Lord. At first the deal seemed to pay off. The Damascus altar is what that trust brought home.
- Copy. He saw an altar he liked better than God's and sent its design to Jerusalem — religion kept, worship swapped.
- Pattern. God's wisdom alone designed His altar. Only God can set the way to Himself. An altar picked to suit our taste ends in ruin.
- Compliance. Priests had resisted a king before. Urijah did not. His eye was on honour from men, not from God.
- Cost. Ahaz brought every offering except the sin offering he needed most. He pushed the true altar aside. Any religion that keeps the forms but drops the blood of the cross does the same.
And Urijah the priest built an altar according to all that king Ahaz had sent from Damascus; thus Urijah the priest made [it], against king Ahaz came from Damascus.
Ahaz saw an altar in Damascus and sent its design home ahead of himself. The verse's hard question is not about Ahaz but about Urijah: why did the priest responsible for God's altar build a rival one on the king's orders?
The speed matters. Urijah did not stall or object. He finished the work in time for the king's return. One writer asks the question directly.
Ahaz therefore sent the pattern of the altar to Urijah the priest at Jerusalem, telling him to build one like it for the worship of Judah. So Ahaz was a religious man, but he chose wicked religion above the true worship of the Lord. The Christian world has been guilty of the same evil, copying the false worship of unbelievers. But why did Urijah not have the spiritual strength to resist this evil of the king? Instead of resisting, he agreed with this false worship completely, and had built the altar by the time Ahaz returned.
Resistance was possible. Priests had refused another king before.
When Uzziah interfered with the order of God's house, the faithful priests resisted him. But when Ahaz sent the pattern of the idolatrous altar from Damascus, Urijah the priest built it for him, and backed the king in his turning away from God.
It would be easy to read this as a matter of style — a new design, the same God. The record says otherwise.
Having seen Rezin's idolatrous altar, he sends its pattern to Jerusalem and has it set up in the court of the temple. He finds a high priest to carry out this act of sacrilege. 2 Chronicles 28:22 tells us that Ahaz sacrificed to the gods of Damascus. To burn a sacrifice on any altar other than the bronze altar was to sacrifice to false gods.
Ahaz did not just supply a design. He gave orders about the offerings, and Urijah took them. One writer sets that choice beside the apostles', who chose the other way.
In his pride he told the high priest what to offer on his altar, and how, and when. And Urijah, the unworthy successor of Jehoiada and Zechariah, obeyed him to the letter like a slave. "Uriah the priest did all this, as King Ahaz commanded." He turned the apostles' rule upside down, that we "must obey God rather than men." He thought differently. His eye was on the honour that comes from man; theirs was on the honour that comes from God.
An altar is a small thing beside a whole temple system. But this one change did not stay small.
When Ahaz set up a new altar in the Temple, copied from the pattern of the idol-altar, he opened the door wide to unlawful worship in the Temple of God. He found a willing helper in Urijah (whose name means "the LORD is light"), who ran the worship just as King Ahaz commanded. And greater dishonour to God's house followed. He even shut up the doors of the house of the Lord (2 Chron. 28:24), which probably meant that the services in the Holy Place stopped completely.
Urijah traded God's altar for a better-looking one. That trade cost more than a design.
A king like Ahaz, captivated by the beauty of the Syrian altar, may reject the altar of God. But it was the ruin of him and of all Israel. In the same way men today may refuse the preaching of the cross of Christ. To their thinking it is either a stumbling block or foolishness. So they choose an altar for their worship that suits their own taste, one that will not offend the prejudices of the natural man. But, as with Ahaz, it can only end in their everlasting ruin. God alone can prescribe the fitting way and method of access to Himself.
- Pattern sent. Ahaz liked a foreign altar better than God's and sent home its design. The trouble began with a preference, not an argument.
- Priest yields. Urijah could have refused, as priests had refused a king before. Instead the altar stood ready before Ahaz came home.
- Master swapped. He did all the king commanded. He reversed the rule that we must obey God rather than men, with his eye on human honour.
- Worship redefined. A sacrifice on any altar but God's own was a sacrifice to the gods of Damascus, whatever name the worshipper spoke over it.
- Door opened. One new altar led to worse, until Ahaz shut the temple doors. God alone can set the way of approach to Himself.
And when the king came from Damascus, the king saw the altar; and the king approached to the altar, and offered upon it.
Ahaz comes home from meeting the king of Assyria and goes straight up to a new altar copied from a foreign design. It looks like worship, but who chose that altar, and what became of the one God had commanded?
The altar did not come from God's instructions. It came from a royal visit abroad.
Ahaz went to Damascus to meet Tiglath Pileser, likely to congratulate him for his victory. But while there Ahaz saw a Syrian altar that he evidently liked better than the altar of the Lord. So he sent the pattern of the altar to Urijah the priest in Jerusalem, and told him to build one like it for the worship of Judah. Ahaz was a religious man. But he chose wicked religion above the true worship of the Lord.
The altar was ready and waiting because a priest had built it. Judah had seen priests resist a king who meddled with the house of God.
When Uzziah interfered with the order of the house of God, the faithful priests resisted him. But when Ahaz sent the pattern of the idolatrous altar from Damascus, Urijah the priest built it for him. He supported the king in his turning away from God.
Even Urijah's own name spoke against what he did.
King Ahaz finds in Urijah the high priest a willing tool for his idolatrous plans. Untrue to his name, which means "light of the Lord," he obeys his king's orders without question instead of rebuking him for his shameful act. Probably because he bowed so low, his name is left out of the list of priests in 1 Chronicles 6:4-15.
Some older translations end the verse with "and offered upon it." The altar he used, not the ritual, decided what that offering really was.
Having seen Rezin's idolatrous altar, he sends its pattern to Jerusalem. He has it set up in the court of the temple. He finds a high priest to carry out this act of sacrilege. 2 Chronicles 28:22 tells us that Ahaz sacrificed to the gods of Damascus. Burning a sacrifice on any altar other than the bronze altar was sacrificing to false gods.
What he offered on this altar matters. So does what he left out.
On this altar of new design Ahaz offers every kind of offering. He leaves out the one he needed most for himself — the sin offering. The plain bronze altar, "which was before the house of the Lord," seems to have offended his taste for beauty. So he pushed it aside to the north side of his own foreign copy. He had the arrogance to command the high priest what to offer on his altar, and how, and when. And Urijah, the unworthy successor of better priests, obeyed to the letter. He reversed the apostles' rule, that we ought to obey God rather than men.
Every step Ahaz took toward his new altar was a step away from the one God had placed in front of the temple. Its position there carried meaning.
Not only did Ahaz introduce an idolatrous altar into the temple worship, but he displaced the copper altar that was in front of the temple. He put it on the north side of his new altar. The Lord had placed the copper altar in front of the temple because it speaks of the only way of approach to God. That way is Christ, the One whose sacrifice is indispensable. But how many today are like Ahaz, pushing Christ out of the way and despising the value of His perfect sacrifice.
The same swap did not stop with Ahaz. One writer sees it in religion today.
Do we not find something similar in today's religions? Men who profess to be Christians think they can approach God by another altar than the altar of expiation, which they do not believe in. Like Rezin's altar, theirs is much broader, and looks much more beautiful than God's. The old-fashioned religious narrowness has given place to broader views, they say. It is no longer the blood of the cross that justifies and redeems the sinner. They have another Christ than that One. Their Christ renewed humanity's ties with God by His life, and His cross is nothing more than the crowning act of a life of devotion.
- Seen — Ahaz saw an altar in Damascus that pleased him more than the Lord's, and sent home the pattern of it.
- Built — faithful priests had once resisted a king. Urijah obeyed Ahaz instead of God, and built the altar for him.
- Approached — going up to that altar was not a new style of true worship. Offering anywhere but the bronze altar meant sacrificing to the gods of Damascus.
- Displaced — the bronze altar stood in front of the temple to picture the one way to God: Christ and His sacrifice. Ahaz shoved it aside.
- Repeated — people still make the same swap. A broader, prettier altar replaces the blood of the cross, and leaves them with another Christ.
And he burned his burnt-offering and his oblation, and poured out his drink-offering, and sprinkled the blood of his peace-offering upon the altar.
Ahaz returns from Damascus and walks up to a new altar. He had ordered it built from a foreign pattern. Now he offers Israel's sacrifices on it. The forms are all correct. The altar is not. Can worship be right when its altar is wrong?
Ahaz did not design this altar. He saw it abroad on a visit to the king of Assyria, and had it copied at home.
Ahaz went to Damascus to meet Tiglath Pileser, likely to congratulate him for his victory. But while there Ahaz saw a Syrian altar that he evidently liked better than the altar of the Lord. So he sent the pattern of the altar to Urijah the priest in Jerusalem. He told him to build one like it for the worship of Judah. Ahaz was a religious man, then, but he chose wicked religion over the true worship of the Lord.
The list of what Ahaz offered is long. One item is missing.
On this altar of new design Ahaz offers every kind of offering except the one he needed most for himself — the sin-offering. The plain bronze altar stood in front of the house of the Lord. Its looks seem to have offended his taste for beauty. So it lost its place, pushed aside to the north side of his own foreign substitute.
Much of the ritual was correct. But an offering's worth depends on the altar it is laid on.
Ahaz ignored the altar of God. He offered burnt offerings, grain offerings and drink offerings on the altar he liked, and sprinkled the blood on it as well. We are not told whether the priest acted for him in this or not. Ahaz could boast that he had some details right, while he was rebellious against God at the root. The Lord Jesus spoke of the scribes and Pharisees. They taught that a promise sworn by the altar counts for nothing, but a promise sworn by the gift on the altar must be kept. The Lord called these teachers blind fools, and asked which is greater: the gift, or the altar that makes the gift holy? The gift speaks of Christ's sacrifice, but the altar pictures Christ Himself, the basis of the value of the sacrifice. So the altar of Ahaz means that he brought in a false Christ.
The altar copied one belonging to Rezin, the king of Damascus. Ahaz would have said he was worshipping the God of Judah. Chronicles names who really received these sacrifices.
Having seen Rezin's idolatrous altar, he sends its pattern to Jerusalem and has it erected in the court of the temple. He finds a high priest to carry out this act of sacrilege. 2 Chronicles 28:22 tells us that Ahaz sacrificed to the gods of Damascus. To burn a sacrifice on any altar other than the bronze altar was to sacrifice to false gods.
Judah's priests had stood up to a king before. This time the priest did not.
When Uzziah interfered with the order of the house of God, the faithful priests resisted him. But when Ahaz sent the pattern of the idolatrous altar from Damascus, Urijah the priest built it for him. He backed the king in his turning away from God.
Ahaz's altar won him over by its size and its looks. One writer sees the same pull at work today.
Do we not find something similar in today's religions? Men who claim to be Christians think they can approach God by another altar than the altar of expiation, which they do not believe in. Like Rezin's altar, theirs is much broader and looks far more beautiful than God's. The old-fashioned religious narrowness has given way to broader views, they say. It is no longer the blood of the cross that justifies and redeems the sinner. They have another Christ than that One.
- Pattern. The trouble started with a preference. Ahaz liked a foreign altar better than God's, so he had it copied for Judah's worship.
- Priest. A weak priest built what a wicked king ordered. Earlier priests had resisted a king who meddled with God's house. Urijah helped his king instead.
- Offerings. Ahaz presented every kind of offering except the sin-offering — the one he needed most.
- Altar. The altar gives the gift its value. So a substitute altar means a substitute Christ: form kept, foundation lost.
- Verdict. To sacrifice on any altar but God's was to sacrifice to the gods of Damascus. Men make the same trade whenever a broader, prettier religion replaces the blood of the cross.
And the brazen altar which was before Jehovah, he brought forward from the forefront of the house, from between [his] altar and the house of Jehovah, and put it by the side of [his] altar on the north.
Ahaz came home from Damascus with a design in his head, and he rearranged the court of God's house to fit it. He did not smash God's altar; he moved it aside to make room for one he liked better.
The bronze altar's position was not decoration. Writers point out that it stood at the front because of what it stood for:
Ahaz did not only bring an idolatrous altar into the temple worship. He also displaced the copper altar that stood in front of the temple, and put it on the north side of his new altar (v.14). The Lord had the copper altar placed in front of the temple because it speaks of the only way of approach to God. That way is Christ, the One whose sacrifice is indispensable. But how many today are like Ahaz, pushing Christ out of the way and despising the value of His perfect sacrifice.
Ahaz renounced nothing out loud. He kept the old altar, but not at the centre. And what he offered on the new one left out the offering he needed most:
On this altar of new design Ahaz offers every kind of offering except the one he needed most for himself — the sin offering. The plain bronze altar, the one standing in front of the house of the LORD, seems to have offended his eye for beauty. So he pushed it off to a place of relative obscurity, on the north side of his own foreign substitute.
Its look and its size are what made the Damascus copy win. One writer sees people today approaching God by a different altar too:
Like Rezin's altar, theirs is much broader and looks far more beautiful than God's. The old-fashioned religious narrowness has given way to broader views, they say. It is no longer the blood of the cross that justifies and redeems the sinner. They have another Christ, a Christ who by His life renewed humanity's ties with God. His cross is nothing more than the crowning act of a life of devotion. The new altar has no point of contact with the old. Its shape and its beauty make it far more desirable to the world than the bronze altar. So the bronze altar loses its place and is set aside (v. 14). It is no longer the indispensable way of approach when a person comes before God in His sanctuary. In short, there is a new way of approach; a new religion is set up, and the first is pushed into a corner.
The change needed a priest to carry it out, and Ahaz had one. Commentators contrast him with the priests who once stood up to King Uzziah:
When Uzziah interfered with the order of the house of God, the faithful priests resisted him. But when Ahaz sent the pattern of the idolatrous altar from Damascus, Urijah the priest built it for him, and supported the king in his apostasy.
Ahaz chose an altar by taste. One writer turns that choice into a warning for anyone today:
A king like Ahaz, captivated by the beauty of the Syrian altar, may reject the altar of God (2 Kings 16). But it was the ruin of him and of all Israel (2 Chr. 28:23). So now people may refuse the preaching of the cross of Christ. As they see it, they find in it either a stumbling block or foolishness. So they choose an altar for their worship that suits their own taste and will not offend the natural man. But, as with Ahaz, it can only end in their everlasting ruin. God alone can prescribe the fitting way and method of access to Himself.
The altar was the first change, not the last. By the end of the chapter Ahaz had also altered the king's entrance to the house — again with one audience in mind:
Finally, Ahaz changes the entrance to the house of the LORD (v. 18), which no one but the king was allowed to use. He does it "because of the king of Assyria." He gives up his own privileges as head of the people of God. He also gives up the "covered way of the sabbath," the privilege of the people themselves. He does all this to avoid offending the world he is serving… The very foundations of Israel's religion, by which the people were set apart for God, have disappeared.
- Place. God put the bronze altar in front of the house because it stood for the one way of approach to Him.
- Preference. Ahaz never argued against that altar. He just liked the Damascus one better, and taste decided.
- Push. He did not destroy the old altar. He moved it to the side — still in view, out of the centre.
- Permission. A priest built the substitute to order. So the king's taste became the nation's worship.
- Price. Once the altar moved, everything else moved too. In the end the foundations that set the people apart for God were gone.
And king Ahaz commanded Urijah the priest saying, Upon the great altar burn the morning burnt-offering, and the evening oblation, and the king's burnt-offering, and his oblation, and the burnt-offering of all the people of the land, and their oblation, and their drink-offerings; and sprinkle upon it all the blood of the burnt-offerings, and all the blood of the sacrifices; and the brazen altar shall be for me to inquire [by].
Ahaz has copied a foreign altar, and here he orders it into the centre of Israel's worship. He moves every daily sacrifice onto it. God's own altar keeps only a strange new job, and the priest obeys without a word.
The command comes from the throne, not from God. One writer weighs the tone of the order, the priest who carried it out, and the one offering left off the list:
On this altar of new design Ahaz offers every kind of offering except the one he needed most for himself — the sin offering... With great arrogance he told the high priest what to offer on his altar, and how, and when. And this unworthy successor of Jehoiada and Zechariah obeyed to the letter, like a slave. "Urijah the priest did everything King Ahaz commanded." He turned the apostles' rule upside down, that we "must obey God rather than men." His mind was set elsewhere. His eye was on the honour that comes from man; theirs was on the honour that comes from God.
Other bad reigns are remembered for priests who stood firm. This one is not:
Under other wicked kings, the record still honours faithful priests. One mark of the wicked reign of Ahaz is that here the priest is almost as wicked as the king. Urijah let himself become the ready tool of his king, who treated holy things with contempt, and helped him build an idolatrous altar.
The list of offerings leaves nothing out. Ahaz keeps every form of worship. One commentator shows why the altar, not the gift on it, decides everything:
Ahaz could boast of having some details correct, while he was rebellious against God at heart. The Lord Jesus spoke of the teachers of the law and the Pharisees. They taught, "Whoever swears by the altar, it is nothing, but whoever swears by the gift that is on the altar, he is bound by his oath" (Matt. 23:18). But the Lord called these teachers, "You blind fools! For which is greater, the gift or the altar that makes the gift sacred?" (v. 19). The gift speaks of Christ's sacrifice, but the altar pictures Christ Himself, the basis of the value of the sacrifice. So the altar of Ahaz stands for the false Christ he was bringing in. How dreadful is such an evil as this!
The bronze altar stood in front of the temple, and its place there had a meaning:
The Lord had the copper altar placed in front of the temple for a reason. It speaks of the only way to come to God, and that way is Christ, the One whose sacrifice cannot be done without. But how many today are like Ahaz, pushing Christ out of the way and despising the value of His perfect sacrifice.
Ahaz does not destroy God's altar. He keeps it for his own private use, as something to consult. One writer denies that Ahaz was simply weighing up what to do with the old altar, and calls the swap a change of religion:
In short, there is a new way of approach. A new religion is set up, and the first is pushed into a corner. At most the bronze altar may serve to "inquire by" (v. 15) — not, as some have said, so that one might think over what to do with it, but to use it for superstitious practices.
God's altar becomes something Ahaz calls on only when he needs it:
If hard problems or danger came, he could use the copper altar. Men today treat Christ the same way — Someone to consult when they are in trouble. But this only amounts to superstition, with no faith at all in Christ Himself. They want Christ only as their servant, not as their Lord.
Ahaz chose the altar that looked better to him. The same instinct is still at work:
A king Ahaz, charmed by the beauty of the Syrian altar, may reject the altar of God; but it was the ruin of him and of all Israel. So now men may refuse the preaching of the cross of Christ. As they see it, the cross is either a stumbling block or foolishness. They choose instead an altar for their worship that suits their own taste, and that will not offend the prejudices of the natural man. But, as in the case of Ahaz, it can only end in their everlasting ruin. God only can prescribe the suited way and method of access to Himself.
- Altar. The altar pictures Christ Himself, who gives the sacrifice its value. Swap the altar and you swap Christ, however correct the ritual on it.
- Approach. God's altar stood in front of the temple as the only way in. Ahaz pushed it aside. Only God can set the way to Himself.
- Appetite. Ahaz chose the new altar because it pleased his eye. Men still refuse the cross and pick an altar that will not offend their taste.
- Accomplice. Urijah obeyed the king to the letter. He turned the rule upside down: we must obey God rather than men. His eye was on the honour that comes from man.
- Amulet. Cut down to something "to inquire by," God's altar became mere superstition. So men consult Christ in trouble, wanting a servant and not a Lord.
And Urijah the priest did according to all that king Ahaz had commanded.
Ahaz had rebuilt the worship of Jerusalem around a new altar, copied from a pattern he sent from Damascus. This verse asks why the priest who guarded God's altar built it without a word of protest.
Uriah's orders came from the king, not from God. One writer notes what the new altar left out. He weighs the priest's obedience against the rule the apostles lived by.
On this altar of new design Ahaz offers every kind of offering except the one he needed most for himself — the sin-offering. He arrogantly commanded the high priest what to offer on his altar, and how, and when. And the unworthy successor of Jehoiada and Zechariah obeyed slavishly, down to the letter. "Uriah the priest did all this, as King Ahaz commanded." He reversed the apostles' rule, that "we must obey God rather than men." He was of another mind: his eye was on the honour that comes from man; theirs was on the honour that comes from God.
Uriah had another option. Judah had already seen priests refuse King Uzziah.
When Uzziah interfered with the order of the house of God the faithful priests resisted him. But when Ahaz sent the pattern of the idolatrous altar from Damascus, Uriah the priest built it for him, and supported the king in his apostasy.
Ahaz stayed religious while turning from the true worship of the Lord. One commentator stops to ask what the priest lacked.
Ahaz was therefore a religious man, but he chose wicked religion above the true worship of the Lord. Christendom has been guilty of the same evil in imitating the false worship of unbelievers. But why did Uriah not have the spiritual strength to resist this evil of the king? Instead of resisting, he fully agreed with this false worship and had the altar built by the time Ahaz returned.
The old bronze altar was not destroyed. It was only pushed aside. One writer reads that swap of altars as a picture of religion today.
Do we not find something similar in today's religions? Men who profess to be Christians think they can approach God by an altar other than the altar of expiation, and they do not believe in that altar. Like Rezin's altar, theirs is much broader and far better looking than God's. The old-fashioned religious narrowness has given way to broader views, they say. It is no longer the blood of the cross that justifies and redeems the sinner... Its form and its beauty make it infinitely more desirable to the world than the bronze altar. So the bronze altar is taken from its place and set aside (v. 14). It is no longer the one necessary way of approach when a person comes before God in His sanctuary.
Uriah's help did not stop at one altar. What it let in ran far past a change of furniture.
The building of a new altar in the Temple by Ahaz, following the pattern of the idol-altar, opened the door wide for unlawful worship in the house of God. He found a willing helper in Uriah (the LORD is light), who conducted the worship "as King Ahaz commanded." And greater profanation followed. He even shut up the doors of the house of the Lord (2 Chron. 28:24), which probably meant a complete stop to the services in the Holy Place. He worshipped the gods of Damascus in connection with this altar (2 Chron. 28:23).
The failure was the high priest's own, yet God did not scrap the priesthood He had set up. One writer draws a conclusion from that about where Christ is Priest.
God has provided a priesthood for earth in the family and line of Aaron. Despite that family's failure in the past, He has never set that priesthood aside. Eli's sons were wicked. Uriah went along with Ahaz's proposal (2 Kings 16). Neither of these moved God to transfer the priesthood to another tribe... God, we repeat it, never sets aside a priesthood that He has established. So the Lord Jesus could not possibly have been a Priest on earth.
- Command. Ahaz told the priest what to offer, how, and when. Uriah obeyed to the letter, with his eye on honour from man.
- Consent. Earlier priests resisted a king who meddled with the house of God. Uriah backed his king instead.
- Cost. The altar of expiation was not smashed, only shifted aside. It was no longer the one necessary way of approach to God.
- Contagion. One willing helper opened the door wide. Idol worship came in, and Ahaz shut the doors of the Lord's house.
- Constancy. A failing priest never unseats God's arrangement. He kept the priesthood in Aaron's line, so Christ was never a Priest on earth.
And king Ahaz cut off the panels of the bases, and removed the lavers from off them; and took down the sea from off the brazen oxen that were under it, and put it upon a stone pavement.
Ahaz had already brought an Assyrian altar into the temple. Now he takes the temple furniture apart, and the commentators ask what a people lose when a king reshapes God's pattern to please a foreign ruler.
One writer reads these changes as one act of demolition, aimed at worship, approach, and purity alike.
With shocking irreverence he had placed his Assyrian altar beside the altar of the Lord. He had made it the centre of sacrifice. He then removed the bases of the lavers. He took the sea down from its raised place and set it on a pavement of stones. He also changed the king's way of entry to meet the whims of the king of Assyria. So he lowered the God-given standards of worship, of approach to the House of God, and of purity in that approach, to suit the thoughts and desires of men! God made His commands known to Moses in fine detail, and Moses carried them out to the letter — the divine standard was clear!
One writer suggests a plain motive for the damage.
He probably made these sacrilegious changes to get the precious metals they were made of.
Where the ESV has the "stands" and their "basin," the commentators use the older words "bases" and "lavers." These smaller basins washed the sacrifices. Ahaz did not smash them; he took them off what held them up, and that half-measure is the point.
Ahaz's sacrilege extended to the lavers (v. 17). They served for washing the sacrifices. This showed the complete absence of defilement in Christ, who was offered for expiation. Ahaz removes the lavers from their bases. And here again, do we not find a parallel with what is happening in front of us? People give up the thought of the perfect purity of Christ, the Lamb of God. They make Him subject to the same tendencies we have. They present Him as One tempted by inward lusts — lusts He never yielded to. While keeping the lavers, they remove them from their bases.
The ESV says Ahaz set the sea on "a stone pedestal"; older translations read "a pavement of stones," and the writers below build on that older wording. They differ on what the oxen picture: one sees God's patience carrying His people's purification, the other sees the sacrifice on which any purity of ours rests. Both read the stone as man himself.
The sea stood on oxen. They stand for God's patience toward His people about their practical purification. God could accept that purification only because of His longsuffering in all His ways toward His people. Ahaz took the basin off its base and "put it upon a stone pavement." Is that stone pavement not a striking picture of the nature and heart of man?
The oxen (animals for sacrifice) show that our own purity as priests rests first of all on the value of the sacrifice of Christ. The water in the sea speaks of the Word of God, which purifies. But we are sinners by nature, so the oxen of sacrifice are basic to our purification in practical life. The pavement of stones, though, pictures mankind in their so-called "good works" — a useless (though proud) basis that ungodly men prefer. Mere natural religion always substitutes human merit for Christ!
Understanding the loss depends on knowing the use. The sea held water, not blood — it served people already brought near.
"The sea was for the priests to wash in." Day after day the priests came there to wash their hands and feet. So they were always fit to go through their work as priests. This is a striking type of God's spiritual priests — of all true believers whose works and ways need to be cleansed by the action of the Word. The bronze laver in the tabernacle and the bronze sea in the temple both pointed forward to that "washing of water by the Word." Christ is carrying that on now by the power of the Holy Spirit.
One writer ends not with what Ahaz took, but with what no king can touch.
As we wait for the coming of our beloved Lord, let us always treasure this: "we have an altar" that stands unique in its glory and effect — the cross of Christ. It is through Christ we "have access in one Spirit to the Father." And Christ is the standard of our purity. Nothing the modern Ahaz brings in can challenge the lasting blessedness of these glorious truths.
- Standard. God gave the pattern in detail; Ahaz lowered it to suit men's thoughts and desires.
- Base. He kept the lavers but removed their bases. Men keep the form and let go of Christ's perfect purity.
- Substitute. The sea came off the oxen and onto stone. Sacrifice and God's longsuffering gave way to human nature and human works.
- Loss. Priests washed at the sea every day. Move it, and you lose the picture of the Word cleansing a believer's ways.
- Standing. The true altar is the cross, the access is in one Spirit to the Father, and no modern Ahaz can move it.
And the covered way of the sabbath that they had built in the house, and the king's entry outside, he turned from the house of Jehovah on account of the king of Assyria.
Ahaz had already put a copy of an Assyrian altar in God's house. Now he touches the entrances. He turns away the covered Sabbath way and the king's own outer entry, and Scripture gives one reason: "because of the king of Assyria." Why would a king of Judah redesign the way into God's house to please a foreign ruler?
The verse names two structures, not ornaments. One commentator traces where they came from and who ended up using them.
The covered way for the Sabbath was for the royal worshippers to use on the sabbath. The king's outer entry was the high gate that his father Jotham had so significantly rebuilt. Ahaz appears to have profaned it by giving it over to Tiglath-pileser's use when he worshipped his false gods on his visit to Jerusalem.
Commentators describe the act in different ways: some say Ahaz removed these structures, others that he turned the approach away from the house of the LORD.
These were not decorations. Each entrance marked out a privilege — one the king's, one the people's — and Ahaz gave up both.
Lastly, Ahaz changes the entry of the house of Jehovah (v. 18) which was forbidden to anyone but the king. He does so "because of the king of Assyria." He disowns his own privileges as head of the people of God. He also disowns the "covered way of the sabbath," the privilege of the people themselves. He does all this to avoid offending the world he is serving. Now the king of Assyria may declare himself satisfied! The very foundations of Israel's religion have disappeared — the foundations that set the people apart for God. Why should the world not now come into relationship with the God of Israel through the altar of Damascus? This religion, changed and stripped of its power and its privileges, suits the world perfectly!
No conviction drives this change. No prophet, no word of Scripture. What drives it is one man Ahaz feared.
Ahaz also removed the Sabbath pavilion that had been built in the temple. He removed the outer entrances from the house of God, "because of the king of Assyria" (v.18). He took away things God had ordained so as not to offend the king of Assyria. Ahaz feared the king of Assyria, but had no fear of God before his eyes. Let us be careful not to allow the opinions of men to influence us against the clear Word of God.
Verse 18 is the last item in a short list. Read with verse 17, where Ahaz reworked the temple basins, it shows one loss repeated three times.
With startling irreverence he had placed his Assyrian altar alongside the altar of Jehovah. He had made it the centre of sacrifice. He then went on to remove the bases of the washing basins. He took down the large basin called the sea from its raised position and put it on a pavement of stones. In the same way he altered the way of the king to meet the whims of the king of Assyria. So Ahaz lowered the standards God had appointed — for worship, for approach to the House of God, and for purity in that approach. He lowered them to fit the thoughts and desires of men! In minute detail God had made known His commands to Moses. Moses had carried them out with great care. The divine standard was clear!
Ahaz could move gates and basins because he treated the standard as his to adjust. The same writer separates what can change from what cannot.
Christ is God's standard, so the standard itself cannot change. Sadly, our appreciation of it and our practice may change a great deal. In the wilderness the manna God gave His earthly people never changed in itself — but their appreciation of it sadly declined. At first it tasted like cake made with honey. Later they wanted something besides the manna. In the end they said they loathed it… It is in Christ, and in the truth about Him, that we see the features of the true Altar, the true approach to God, and the true standard of purity.
- Fear — Ahaz feared the king of Assyria. He had no fear of God. The verse gives no other reason for the change.
- Forfeit — He gave up the entry kept for the king, his own privilege. He gave up the covered Sabbath way, the people's privilege.
- Foundations — With those gone, the foundations that set the people apart for God had disappeared.
- Flattery — A religion stripped of its power and its privileges suits the world perfectly. That was the point of the change.
- Fixed — Christ is God's standard, so the standard cannot change. Only our appreciation of it can. In Him are the true altar, the true approach, and the true purity.
And the rest of the acts of Ahaz, what he did, are they not written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Judah?
Ahaz's reign closes the way nearly every reign in Kings closes — with a note that the full account lies in a state record, the chronicles of the kings of Judah. The formula is routine, but here it files away one of the darkest lives in Judah's history, which raises the question of what is really being remembered, and by whom.
The book named here was one of several records the writer of Kings could point his readers to.
In various places the writer points to books which contain more about the life of the king in question. He may have based his accounts on them. He points, for example, to the book of the Acts of Solomon (1 Kings 11:41), and several times to the book of the chronicles of the kings of Israel (1 Kings 14:19) and to the book of the chronicles of the kings of Judah (1 Kings 14:29)… The author of the books of Kings was able to use these "references" under the guidance of the Holy Spirit while writing his God-inspired work.
Those archives are lost. What survives is the account God Himself kept.
Men drew up these chronicles during the reigns of all the rulers of those times, whether Jewish or Gentile. They have nothing to do with the Word of God. They record what it has not pleased the Lord to record or explain. These chronicles have been lost… The believer has no need for any of them; he has God's Word. There, in God's account, he finds all that is necessary for him, as well as the divine evaluation of people, events, and things. Writings that are not inspired may record certain deeds, and even record them with great exactness. But nothing more than human evaluation ever goes with them.
What God kept on record about Ahaz is what he did to the worship of the Lord.
Ahaz was an open opposer of God and His truth. He neglected the temple — shut up the doors — put out the lamps — cut up the vessels, and set up idolatrous altars in every corner of Jerusalem. He also went to Damascus to meet the king of Assyria. There he saw an altar, and he sent a pattern of it to Urijah the priest, who made one like it in Jerusalem. So he put the true altar out of its place and, in a word, overturned the whole order of worship. "This is that king Ahaz."
The parallel summary in Chronicles adds a second word: not only his acts, but all his ways.
"His acts," and "his ways"! God too has "ways" and "acts." "He made known His ways to Moses, His acts to the people of Israel" (Psalm 103:7). His ways revealed His nature; His acts displayed more of His power. "All his ways," it is said of Ahaz. And what displays of his heart's wickedness did his life of thirty-six years bring out! It is little wonder that the inspiring Spirit led the chronicler to call him "king of Israel" (2 Chron. 28:19) — so like was he to the nineteen idolatrous rulers of the northern kingdom.
The same closing question is asked of other kings. One writer turns it on the reader.
"Now the rest of the acts of Ahaziah that he did, are they not written in the Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Israel?" Yes, and God's books above hold them too, along with the wicked acts recorded here. Those books are not merely the chronicles of the kings of Israel. They hold the deeds and doings of every man's life, whether good or evil. Solemn facts for us all!
Ahaz was not a brute. He had taste, curiosity and a measure of restraint — and none of it changed the verdict on his life.
The faithful ministry of the prophet Isaiah seems to have had little influence on him. He was a man of artistic taste, it appears, judging by his admiration of the Damascus altar — as even the most ungodly of men may be. He was interested in the sciences too, it would seem, since he brought the Chaldean sundial into Jerusalem. Nor does he seem to have had a persecuting spirit, for unlike his grandson Manasseh he did not shed innocent blood or put the prophets to death. His name means "possessor," and he had much that men admire and praise today. But all this, without godliness, is of absolutely no worth. He seems to have died as he had lived, unrepentant to the last.
- Two archives. The chronicles of the kings were court records and served as source material. Scripture is the account God Himself kept.
- Two verdicts. Human records may be exact, yet they carry only human evaluation. God's account supplies the divine estimate of people and events.
- Two words. Chronicles speaks of his acts and his ways — what he did, and what he was. Ahaz's ways exposed the wickedness of his heart.
- One legacy. What God preserved of Ahaz is the wrecking of worship: doors shut, vessels cut up, the true altar displaced by one copied from Damascus.
- One warning. Taste, learning and restraint counted for nothing without godliness. And the books God keeps record every life, not only the lives of kings.
And Ahaz slept with his fathers, and was buried with his fathers in the city of David; and Hezekiah his son reigned in his stead.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
In the twelfth year of Ahaz king of Judah, Hoshea the son of Elah began to reign in Samaria over Israel, for nine years.
This verse reads like a plain line in a royal register. It is not. It names Israel's last king, and the nine years it counts are the years in which his kingdom ends.
He did not inherit the crown. He seized it, and the dates around that seizure take some untangling.
Son of Elah and the last king of Israel. He conspired against Pekah and killed him, and reigned in his place, "in the twentieth year of Jotham." But Jotham reigned only 16 years. This probably means that Pekah was killed in the twentieth year after Jotham became king. There was then anarchy for about 9 years, thought to be noticed in Hosea 10. Hoshea began to reign B.C. 730, the twelfth year of Ahaz, which agrees with 2 Kings 17:1.
Another writer measures the gap a little differently, and admits the record leaves out the reason.
At least eight years with no king passed between the murder of Pekah, his predecessor, and his own taking of the throne. Why this kingless interval, we have no means of knowing, nor how the time was occupied.
Hoshea's nine years close a much longer story.
After the split, the Northern Kingdom continued about 260 years. Then the kings of Assyria destroyed it and deported the people. Nineteen kings in all reigned over the ten tribes. Sadly, there was not a single good king among them. Some, it must be said, were more desperate in their wickedness than others.
Hoshea's answer to Assyria was payment, not repentance.
Hoshea, the murderer of Pekah, reigned nine years in Samaria while doing what was evil in the sight of the Lord. His conduct toward Him was less profane than that of his predecessors. But he took no account of the judgments of God. Through all the prophets God had foretold that Israel would fall under Assyria. Year after year king Hoshea had been sending presents to the king of Assyria. In this he followed one of his predecessors, Menahem.
God had borne with nineteen kings. With Hoshea that patience ends.
Hoshea, although less wicked than his predecessors, ends the list of kings whom the patience of God had borne with in Israel. God thought of His people; and now there was no more hope for them. They were not even a vessel fit to hold the election of God, to whom He made Himself known. Brought into subjection to the king of Assyria, Hoshea had sought help from Egypt. After the king of Assyria had put him in prison, Samaria and all Israel could not hold out long.
Even the king's name carried a message.
Israel's last king was Hoshea. His name means "deliverance." It shows what might have been if he and the people had repented of their sins.
The name outlived the man. Another writer hears in it a promise still ahead.
His name means deliverer. It may have a prophetic significance, as a gracious reminder to the now long-scattered nation. It points to that great "Deliverer" who will "come from Zion" (God's grace) and "banish ungodliness from Jacob." And then, and so, "all Israel will be saved" (Rom. 11:26).
- Conspiracy. Hoshea reached the throne by killing Pekah, and the crown he seized was the last one Israel would ever wear.
- Delay. At least eight years passed with no king at all. No writer claims to know why.
- Deafness. The prophets had already warned that Assyria would rule Israel. Hoshea sent presents year after year instead of repenting.
- Deadline. Nineteen kings had tried God's patience. With this one it ends. The nation was no longer a vessel fit to hold what God had given it.
- Deliverance. The last king's name means deliverance. Israel refused it then. Grace still holds it out to a scattered people.
And he did evil in the sight of Jehovah, but not as the kings of Israel that had been before him.
Israel's northern kingdom ends with Hoshea, and God's verdict on him is unusual: he did evil, but not like the kings before him. So was he really better, and why does judgment fall in his reign?
Hoshea is the last of those kings. One writer sees the end of God's patience here, not a fresh start.
Hoshea was less wicked than the kings before him. Yet he closes the list of kings whom God's patience had borne with in Israel. God thought of His people; and now there was no more hope of them. They were not even a vessel fit to hold God's election — the people to whom He had made Himself known.
The comparison may sound like progress. One commentator gives a different reason: the golden calf-idols at Bethel and Dan were already gone.
Israel's last king was Hoshea. His name means "deliverance." It shows what might have been if he and the people had repented of their sins. The record of his character is brief: "And he did what was evil in the sight of the LORD, yet not as the kings of Israel who were before him." This does not mean that he improved. The Assyrian had already taken the golden calves away from Bethel and Dan. So he could no longer sin like Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, and the other kings of Israel. Hosea had predicted this (Hosea 10:5-8).
If the idols were gone, not worshipping them earns nothing. Another writer presses the point: skipping a sin is not the same as hating it.
He was the last of the nineteen kings who ruled — or rather misruled — Israel. That last clause gives Hoshea no credit. The Assyrian plunderers had most likely removed and carried away the golden calves of Dan and Bethel. See Hosea 10:5-8. If he did not worship them, or other detestable things, it was not because he "abhorred idols" (Rom. 2:22).
Commentators differ on how much this clause means. Where some see no credit for Hoshea, another sees how God weighs each life.
It is interesting to see what the Lord notes here. Hoshea did evil in His sight, but not as the kings of Israel before him did. The Judge of all the earth always does right. He knows the heart and weighs with the balances of the sanctuary.
So what was his evil? One writer points to what Hoshea left out of his reckoning.
Hoshea, the murderer of Pekah, reigned nine years in Samaria while doing what was evil in the sight of the Lord. His conduct toward Him was less irreverent than that of the kings before him. But he took no account of the judgments of God. Through all the prophets God had foretold that Israel would come under Assyria.
Hoshea then tried to keep both Assyria and Egypt on his side. It cost him his throne and his city.
His Assyrian overlord now imprisoned him. He overran the land with his armies and besieged Samaria for three years, till it fell. He had found treachery in Hoshea. Instead of paying his normal tribute, Hoshea had sent envoys to the king of Egypt to ask for help. Our Lord Jesus plainly declares that no man can serve two masters — an important lesson for us to learn, too.
Hoshea's name promised deliverance. One writer points past him to the only One who brings it.
Hoshea (deliverance) proved anything but that to his people. One alone will bring deliverance to the ten tribes. Israel was taken captive into Assyria and resettled in various places. The ten tribes have never returned from their captivity. They will not return until the Lord Himself brings them back in a day to come.
- Measured — God weighs Hoshea with care. His evil was real, but it was not the evil of the kings before him. The Judge of all the earth always does right and reads the heart.
- Not excused — the milder record is no compliment. The calf-idols were already gone, so he could not sin as Jeroboam did. Avoiding an idol you cannot reach is not hating it.
- Still evil — he ignored the judgment the prophets had announced. Then he tried to serve Assyria and Egypt at once.
- Ended — he closes the list of kings God's patience had borne with. Israel was no longer even a vessel fit to hold God's election, and hope for it was gone.
- Unfulfilled — his name meant deliverance, and it showed what repentance could have brought. Instead the ten tribes went into a captivity that only the Lord Himself will reverse.
Against him came up Shalmaneser king of Assyria, and Hoshea became his servant, and tendered him presents.
An Assyrian army comes up against Israel. Hoshea's answer is not repentance but payment. He submits to Shalmaneser and buys peace with tribute. Commentators ask what it cost Israel to lean on the power God had raised up against her.
Hoshea's throne was never really his own. One writer gives two possible reasons for his shaky start.
It seems he had trouble tightening his hold on a kingdom that was now sinking fast. Or perhaps he had to get his right to rule approved by the powerful Assyrians. Either way, he ruled only as a vassal of the Assyrian king.
Becoming a vassal was not a one-off surrender. A vassal kept his throne by paying a stronger king, year after year. Hoshea copied an earlier king of Israel who had done the same — and he ignored what the prophets had said was coming.
His conduct toward Him was less godless than that of his predecessors. But he took no account of the judgments of God, by which all the prophets had foretold that Israel would be put under Assyria. Year after year king Hoshea had been sending gifts to the king of Assyria (v. 3). In this he followed one of his predecessors, Menahem, who by gifts had made himself a vassal of the Assyrian king Pul, so that Pul would establish the kingdom in his hands.
Shalmaneser's arrival was not bad luck. One writer traces it straight to Hoshea's own conduct.
But his evil deeds, whatever they were, quickly brought the Assyrian — "the rod of God's anger" — down on him and his wicked subjects… He had conspired against his weaker Israelite master. He tried the same thing, to his sorrow, with his powerful Gentile lord.
The title cuts both ways. Assyria is a tool in God's hand, and the tool is answerable too:
God used this power as His rod to chasten His people… It is as if God says to this mighty power: I am using you to chastise My straying people. But if you lift yourself up against Me, I must bring you down.
The verse just before ours calls Hoshea less evil than the kings before him. Commentators differ on how to read that. One takes it as no compliment:
Nothing in that last clause counts in Hoshea's favour. The Assyrian raiders had most likely already carried away the golden calves of Dan and Bethel… If he did not worship them, or other detestable things, it was not because he "abhorred idols."
Another reads the same clause as a sign that God measures each man exactly:
It is striking to see the Lord note that Hoshea did evil in His sight, but not like the kings of Israel before him. The Judge of all the earth always does right. He knows the heart, and He weighs it in the balances of the sanctuary.
Hoshea did not stay loyal to Assyria. He also turned to Egypt, and the prophets had already named that habit.
The prophet speaks of the king's two-faced, untrustworthy conduct: "Ephraim feeds on wind and pursues the east wind; all day long they multiply falsehood and violence; they make a covenant with Assyria, and oil is carried to Egypt" (Hosea 12:1), and again "Ephraim is like a dove, silly and without sense, calling to Egypt, going to Assyria" (Hosea 7:11).
One writer puts the lesson bluntly, and it reaches past Hoshea:
Egypt gave Israel no help and only wounded them badly. Egypt was like a staff that breaks under the weight of the man leaning on it, and then pierces his hand. Whenever God's people turn to Egypt — a picture of the world — for help, and make godless alliances, they do so to their own hurt and shame.
- Sin first. Hoshea's evil deeds brought the Assyrian down on him. The invasion was a consequence, not an accident.
- Rod second. Commentators call Assyria "the rod of God's anger." God chastens His people with the empire, then brings the empire down if it lifts itself up against Him.
- Tribute third. Becoming a vassal meant gifts sent year after year, copying Menahem. Hoshea took no account of the judgments the prophets had foretold.
- Double-dealing fourth. A covenant with Assyria and oil sent to Egypt at the same time — the prophets called Ephraim a silly dove, calling to Egypt and going to Assyria.
- Ruin last. Egypt was a staff that breaks and pierces the hand. Turning to the world for help ends in hurt and shame.
But the king of Assyria found conspiracy in Hoshea; for he had sent messengers to So king of Egypt, and sent up no present to the king of Assyria as [he had done] from year to year. And the king of Assyria shut him up and bound him in prison.
Hoshea's reign ends with a secret message sent to Egypt, not with a battle. His Assyrian overlord found out, and that one move cost Hoshea his freedom and opened the way to the fall of Samaria.
Hoshea had come to the throne by plotting against his predecessor. One writer sees the same instinct turned on a far stronger master, with a very different result.
He who conspired against his weaker Israelite master attempted the same — to his sorrow — with his powerful Gentile lord.
One reference work names him as an Egyptian king, and traces where Hoshea's gifts to Egypt led.
The twenty-fifth dynasty was a foreign one, of Ethiopians who reigned in Nubia. Its first king, named Shabaka, or Sabaco, was the So of Scripture. Hoshea, king of Israel, tried to form an alliance with this king in order to break free from his allegiance to Assyria. He made presents to Egypt; but the scheme was not carried out. It led to the capture of Samaria and the captivity of the ten tribes.
A prophet had already described this double game: a covenant with Assyria, and oil sent down to Egypt.
The prophet mentions this two-faced, suspicious conduct of the king. "Ephraim feeds on the wind and pursues the east wind all day long; they multiply falsehood and violence; they make a covenant with Assyria, and oil is carried to Egypt" (Hosea 12:1). And again: "Ephraim is like a dove, silly and without sense, calling to Egypt, going to Assyria" (Hosea 7:11). So, discovering Hoshea's conspiracy, Shalmaneser "shut him up and bound him in prison" (v. 4).
Another writer takes the dove further. The bird does not just lack sense; it flies toward the trap while looking for safety.
The Lord was their help and their rest, but they did not fly back to Him. Like a moth around a flame, they fluttered around Egypt and Assyria, trying to find deliverance there. They went from Egypt to Assyria and from Assyria back to Egypt. They never saw the net spread to destroy them — and that net was Assyria itself. In this net the Lord caught them. Their freedom would end and captivity would begin.
Turning to Egypt was an old habit that never once paid off. One writer names what Egypt really was, then turns the point on the reader.
Egypt has been a breaking staff to Israel; a staff of reed, which offered much but never kept its promises, bringing only ruin to all who trusted it. Going down to Egypt for help was the constant snare of the people of God. Yet God had rescued them from that land, and in that rescue they had seen His judgment on it. Yet they could turn back to it again and again. This is an inconsistency that none of us who knows himself can claim to be a stranger to! ... The lesson is as plain as it is basic. It is the lesson, "Stop regarding man in whose nostrils is breath, for of what account is he?"
Hoshea was less wicked than the kings before him, yet the line of kings closes with him. One writer reads his imprisonment as the point where hope for the kingdom ran out.
Hoshea, although less wicked than his predecessors, ends the list of kings whom the patience of God had borne with in Israel. God thought of His people; and now there was no more hope for them. They were not even a vessel fit to hold the election of God, to whom He made Himself known. Brought under subjection to the king of Assyria, Hoshea had sought help from Egypt. After the king of Assyria put him in prison, Samaria and all Israel could not hold out long.
- Habit. Hoshea plotted his way past a weaker king, then tried the same trick on a stronger one. The habit that won him a throne cost him his freedom.
- Bait. Egypt was a staff of reed. It promised much and kept nothing, yet God's people kept going down to it for help.
- Blindness. Israel flew between Egypt and Assyria like a dove without sense. It never saw that Assyria itself was the net.
- End. With Hoshea in prison, God's long patience with the northern kingdom closed. Samaria could not stand for long.
- Lesson. The prop they leaned on instead of God became the chain that held them. No one who knows himself is a stranger to that habit.
And the king of Assyria overran the whole land, and went up against Samaria, and besieged it three years.
Hoshea had secretly asked Egypt for help, and Assyria found out. Now the empire he tried to escape floods the whole land and shuts up his capital for three years.
The verse follows a report of Hoshea bound in prison, yet the siege it describes came first. One writer explains the order of events, and notes that Assyria's own monuments record the city's fall:
What follows, about the siege of Samaria, happened before Hoshea's imprisonment, though the account records it later. "Hoshea's imprisonment did not come before the capture of Samaria. The writer of Scripture first records what finally happened to Hoshea himself, then gives the details of the invasion as it affected Samaria and Israel" (Fausset)... Assyria's own monuments record this siege and capture of Samaria just as 2 Kings 17 tells it.
The siege outlasted the king who began it. One writer notes that the account credits the capture only to "the king of Assyria":
These inscriptions tell us that the siege of Samaria had lasted two years when Sargon replaced Shalmaneser. Sargon took Samaria in the first year of his reign. The record here does not name Sargon. But note that it does not credit the capture of Samaria to Shalmaneser either. Both passages, 2 Kings 17:6 and 18:10-11, speak only of the king of Assyria.
Politics explains part of the invasion. One writer points to what Hoshea ignored, and to the reason Scripture itself gives:
Hoshea did not take into account the judgments of God by which all the prophets had foretold Israel's subjection to Assyria... These political motives are not given to us in the Word. God's own motive is shown by a word in Chronicles: "So the God of Israel stirred up the spirit of Pul king of Assyria, the spirit of Tiglath-pileser king of Assyria, and he took them into exile" (1 Chr. 5:26).
Hoshea's own conduct brought that army down on him:
But his evil doings, whatever they were, quickly brought the Assyrian, "the rod of God's anger," on him and his guilty subjects... He had conspired against his weaker Israelite master. He tried the same thing with his powerful Gentile lord, and it cost him dearly.
The prophets spoke of Israel "returning to Egypt." One writer explains what that phrase means:
"Return into the land of Egypt" does not have to mean fleeing there. It means looking there for help. Isaiah 31:1 says the same thing: "Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help."
Hoshea tried to hold on to both Assyria and Egypt. One writer draws the lesson for us:
His Assyrian overlord now imprisoned him and overran the land with his armies, besieging Samaria for three years till it fell. He had found treachery in Hoshea. Instead of paying his normal tribute, Hoshea had sent envoys to the king of Egypt to ask for help. Our Lord Jesus says clearly that no one can serve two masters — an important lesson for us to learn, too.
The invasion was not sudden. One writer shows what God's long patience with this kingdom was for, and when it ended:
God's patience bore long with the rebellion of His people, and He took pity on their affliction (see 2 Kings 17). That patience lasted as long as it could still be a testimony to the real character of the God who showed it. It never denied His holiness and righteousness. It never gave approval to sin. So God could still bless the people and keep a true testimony to what He is — a testimony even the nations could see. In a word, His patience lasted "until there was no remedy."
The three years closed a kingdom. One writer marks how final this judgment was:
This was a sweeping judgment of God against His people Israel, and the ten tribes have never returned to their land since that time... Only a miraculous act of God at the end of the Tribulation will bring His people Israel back to their land.
The last king's name carried a promise his reign never kept:
Hoshea (deliverance) proved anything but that to his people. One alone will bring deliverance to the ten tribes.
- Cause — the army at the gate ended a long story. Scripture gives the reason: God stirred up the spirit of the king of Assyria.
- Patience — God bore with this kingdom while His patience could still witness to His holiness — "until there was no remedy."
- Double-dealing — Hoshea served Assyria and courted Egypt at once. To the prophets, asking Egypt for help was "returning" there. No one can serve two masters.
- Record — the account tells the siege out of order, and it never names the king who finished it. Assyria's own monuments record the same events.
- Deliverance — a king named "deliverance" delivered no one. The ten tribes have never come back. One alone will bring them home.
In the ninth year of Hoshea, the king of Assyria took Samaria, and carried Israel away into Assyria, and placed them in Halah and by the Habor, the river of Gozan, and in the cities of the Medes.
This verse closes the story of the northern kingdom with a bare list of place names. Behind the list lies the end of a nation — ten tribes taken from their land — and the question the chapter answers: who moved Israel, and will they ever come back?
The fall was no surprise. One writer shows what Hoshea overlooked, and who stood behind the invading army:
Hoshea took no account of the judgments of God, by which all the prophets had foretold that Israel would be brought under Assyria… The Word does not give us the political reasons, but a word in Chronicles shows us the divine reason: "And the God of Israel stirred up the spirit of Pul king of Assyria, and the spirit of Tiglath-pileser … and he carried them away" (1 Chr. 5:26).
Hoshea is the last name in Israel's line of kings, and the chapter jails him before Samaria falls. Two things explain the verse here: the order of the telling, and the record kept outside the Bible:
Hoshea was the last of the nineteen kings who ruled — or rather misruled — Israel… "Hoshea's imprisonment did not come before the capture of Samaria. The sacred writer first records the eventual fate of Hoshea himself, then gives the details of the invasion as it affected Samaria and Israel" (Fausset)… The monuments of Assyria record this siege and capture of Samaria just as 2 Kings 17 tells it.
The verse credits the capture to "the king of Assyria." The siege lasted three years, and the throne changed hands before it ended:
…it was not Shalmaneser in person who took the city, for we are told, "And at the end of three years they took it" (2 Kings 18:10). During this interval Sargon (Isa. 20:1) had succeeded Shalmaneser, or at least was at the head of the army during a short gap between reigns.
The verse opens with a date and ends with four place names. A Bible dictionary fills in both:
Scripture gives a more definite date for the captivity of the rest of Israel. It was in the ninth year of Hoshea, king of Israel, and the sixth year of Hezekiah, that the Assyrians took Samaria after a three years' siege: this would be 722 B.C. The captives were carried to Halah and Habor by the river of Gozan (the same names appear in 1 Chr. 5:26, with Hara added there). These places are supposed to be in the north of Assyria. But in the passage in Kings the words "and in the cities of the Medes" are added. That region lies much further east. There they would be far removed from their fellow Israelites in Assyria and from Judah, who were afterwards carried to Babylon.
Earlier deportations took parts of the nation. This one took what was left:
This was a sweeping judgment of God against His people Israel. The ten tribes have never been restored to their land since that time… Now that God has allowed this great scattering of the ten tribes, only a miraculous intervention of God at the end of the Tribulation will bring His people Israel back to their land.
The verse names the towns. It records no return, and that silence has kept people searching:
No one knows clearly or certainly where the ten tribes are; nor does it seem to be anyone's business to search it out beforehand. We may leave them in the obscurity where God has put them. If we believe His word, we know that He has preserved the scattered remnant of the two tribes. Just as surely, He will bring the descendants of the ten out of their hiding place.
This verse states the fact. The verses that follow give the reason, and God put that reason on record for readers far beyond Israel:
While God has no obligation to explain to us why He does what He does, in His Word He often does so. As He concludes the story of the ten-tribe kingdom, God gives us a detailed list of particulars in 2 Kings 17:7-23 as to why He brought an end to this kingdom. God has placed it in His Word for our warning and instruction. We do well to examine it. Romans 11:20-21 tells us: "Do not become proud, but fear. For if God did not spare the natural branches, neither will He spare you."
- Cause — Scripture leaves the politics unstated. Chronicles gives the real reason: God stirred up the spirit of the Assyrian kings.
- Record — The account is not in strict order. Hoshea's fate comes first, then the invasion; Assyria's own monuments confirm the siege and fall of Samaria.
- Scattering — Assyria placed the captives in the north and in the far eastern cities of the Medes, cut off from each other and from Judah.
- Consequence — The ten tribes have never come back. Only a direct act of God will bring them home.
- Warning — God did not just record this judgment. He explained it, so that later readers would not presume on His patience.
And so it was, because the children of Israel had sinned against Jehovah their God, who had brought them up out of the land of Egypt from under the hand of Pharaoh king of Egypt, and had feared other gods;
The fall of Samaria has just been recorded, and at this point the account stops to explain itself. Verse 7 opens God's own answer to the obvious question: why did a nation He rescued end up deported to Assyria?
The account could have ended with the conquest. Instead the next seventeen verses set out the case. One commentator explains why:
While God has no obligation to explain to us why He does what He does, in His Word He often does so. As He closes the story of the ten-tribe kingdom, God gives us a detailed list of particulars in 2 Kings 17:7-23. They say why He brought this kingdom to an end. God has placed it in His Word for our warning and instruction. We do well to examine it. Romans 11:20-21 tells us: "Do not become proud, but fear. For if God did not spare the natural branches, neither will He spare you."
The verse names who Israel sinned against, and what He had done for them:
Verse 7 now reminds Israel that God had kindly brought them out of the land of Egypt, out of Pharaoh's bondage. Yet from that time on they kept on sinning against the Lord, and they feared other gods.
That clause about Egypt is not background detail. It is the ground of the charge:
Here we see what the moral claim on their heartfelt obedience rests on. It rests on the revealed character of God, and on His wonderful acts for them. In a word, they were bound to obey — bound by every argument that could possibly work on the heart, the conscience, and the understanding. The One who had brought them out of the land of Egypt, with a mighty hand and outstretched arm... surely He was entitled to their whole-hearted obedience.
Sin here begins as forgetting. The God who rescued them dropped out of their thinking:
When Israel came out of Egypt they had a deep sense of the Lord's care and protection. "Thus says the LORD: What wrong did your fathers find in me that they went far from me, and went after worthlessness, and became worthless? They did not say, 'Where is the LORD who brought us up from the land of Egypt?'" (Jeremiah 2:5-6). What a touching plea for the Lord to bring before His people. Had He changed since that day? No, there was no change on His side. They had lost His presence, and they had no sense of the loss.
"Feared other gods" was not a late development under the kings of Samaria. One writer traces it back much further:
They are reminded when and where their idolatry began — in the wilderness... They had not got rid of the gods of Egypt then. They brought these worthless things with them into the wilderness. Now this is charged against them... No doubt that sin was more glaring at the end; the dark stream was always gathering more water... Yet God always goes back to the source. At last He declares that the final blow came because of the first departure.
What made it intolerable was the nature of the God they left:
God is a jealous God who cannot tolerate rivals of any kind for the affections of His people.
The chapter is as much about God's patience as about Israel's failure. The verdict hinges on one connecting word — and Israel's story does not end there:
The last mention of the ten tribes in Scripture is that instructive chapter, 2 Kings 17. It sets before us God's patience and forbearance on the one hand, and their sins and follies on the other. Their sins and idolatry were the cause of all the calamities that came upon them. The word "therefore" in verse 18 sums it all up and shows this plainly. It was God who stirred up the spirit of the kings of Assyria, and so they were deported. Zechariah 10:10 names one of the places from which they will be brought back in a future day.
Israel's idolatry can look like a dead issue. One writer answers that:
Today we do not think of this, because idolatry has passed away. Still, it has its lesson for us. The idol-feasts, with their open immorality, are not around us today. But there are still idols to keep away from, and sinful desires to turn from. We have light and knowledge now. Some things displace God. Some present Him as different from what He is known to be, as revealed in Christ. Some change His truth. None of these can be followed without some form of moral failure.
- Rescue. The charge opens with Egypt. Rescue created the duty: God's saving acts are the ground of His claim on their obedience.
- Forgetting. Sin began with forgetting. They stopped asking where their Rescuer was, and lost His presence without feeling the loss.
- Rivals. "Feared other gods" is the heart of the case, and God tolerates no rivals for the affections of His people.
- Source. Judgment traced the stream back to its spring. The final blow came because of the first departure, though the sin grew darker as it flowed.
- Therefore. God waited long before the verdict. He wrote the reasons down to warn us: if He did not spare the natural branches, do not be proud, but fear.
and they walked in the statutes of the nations that Jehovah had dispossessed from before the children of Israel, and of the kings of Israel, which they had made.
Assyria has just carried the ten tribes away. God now pauses the story to list His reasons, and verse 8 names two of them.
God owes no one an explanation for what He does. Here He gives one anyway.
While God has no obligation to explain to us why He does what He does, yet in His Word He often does so. In 2 Kings 17:7-23 He closes the story of the ten-tribe kingdom. There He gives us a detailed list of the reasons why He brought this kingdom to an end. God has placed it in His Word for our warning and instruction. We do well to examine it. Romans 11:20-21 tells us: "So do not become proud, but fear. For if God did not spare the natural branches, neither will He spare you."
The verse names two sets of customs. One came from outside, from the peoples God had already driven out. The other came from inside — the religion Israel's own kings set up, starting with Jeroboam and his calves at Dan and Bethel.
From verses 7 to 18 of our chapter God shows what He had done for Israel. He had brought them out of Egypt and led them into Canaan (v. 7). He then speaks of what they had done. First of all they acted "secretly" against the Lord. They walked according to the idolatry of the nations which God had driven out before them. They also walked in the statutes that the kings of Israel, beginning with Jeroboam I, had set up to found and maintain their national religion of the calves of Dan and Bethel.
God had driven those nations out for these very practices. Israel then took up the customs that had already emptied the land once. One commentator weighs what that means when God's own people do it.
Israel were not to make themselves unclean in any of these things, as the nations of Canaan did in all of them — the nations He drove out before Israel. How much guiltier, then, would Israel be! The very land was made unclean. So He punished it for that iniquity. The earth vomited out its inhabitants. Israel must beware, then, not only for themselves but for any foreigner living among them, in case the land should vomit them out as well, as it had the nations that lived there before Israel. Such evil was intolerable in His eyes, and even more offensive in His own people than in anyone else. The Jews soon forgot that truth, as Christendom did later.
Another writer names who now proves that God's righteousness is the same toward everyone.
The land they were going to was casting out its inhabitants for these sins. And the warning to them was plain: if they practiced such things, it would cast them out too. God's righteousness is equal to all His creatures and Israel, now cast out of their land, are witnesses to it.
The second half of the charge is about invented worship. Jeroboam did not abolish religion. He redesigned it, down to picking his own month for a festival.
This "feast" of Jeroboam's copied the feast of tabernacles, which God had commanded Israel to keep in the seventh month. The eighth was the month Jeroboam "had devised of his own heart" — a heart always "deceitful" and "desperately wicked." And how many practices and customs in Christendom have been "devised" of men's own hearts which have no foundation in Scripture! Many seem to think that in spiritual things it is quite all right for "every man" to do "that which is right in his own eyes," instead of "Thus says the Lord."... It is the thoughts of God's heart, not mine, that I am to heed and put into practice.
The chapter ends a long history. One writer points out how much of it is really over.
Now God Himself sums up this long history of Israel. It begins in Exodus and ends in our chapter. Not that it is over for good. It is over only as far as this people and its kings are concerned, viewed as responsible. The heart of the prophet Hosea, moved with divine compassion, announces Israel's future restoration.
- Borrowed. Israel copied the customs of the very nations God had driven out for those same practices.
- Invented. They added customs their own kings made up — worship "devised of his own heart," with no foundation in Scripture.
- Equal. God's righteousness is the same toward all. The land that spat out the Canaanites would spit out Israel too.
- Heavier. Such evil was intolerable to God anywhere, and more offensive in His own people than in anyone else.
- Recorded. God wrote down the reasons for our warning. He closed the account of Israel's responsibility, not His purpose to restore them.
And the children of Israel did secretly against Jehovah their God things that were not right; and they built them high places in all their cities, from the watchmen's tower to the fortified city.
Here God explains why Assyria carried the northern kingdom away, and the list of charges opens with sins done in secret, not with open revolt. The second charge is public: shrines built across the whole land, from the smallest lookout post to the walled city.
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One writer links both halves of the verse: the hiding, and who the new shrines were really for:
Adding to their disobedience, they did secretly things they knew were not right against the Lord (v.9). Were they so dense they did not consider that the Lord sets "our secret sins in the light of His presence"? (Ps. 90:8). But unbelief does not give God credit for being who He is. They also built for themselves (not for God) high places in all their cities. These high places were for professed worship, but God had told them their worship must be in the place that He would choose — Jerusalem.
Secrecy only delays exposure. God's word to David through the prophet Nathan shows the pattern:
It is not necessarily only in the day of judgment that this takes place: the Lord may deal with it now. "You did it secretly," says God through Nathan to David, "but I will do this thing before all Israel, and before the sun."
A high place was a site of worship that people chose for themselves. Why did God reject every one of them?
The Canaanite nations seem to have had a custom of setting up places of worship for their false gods on various heights. They chose these sites according to their own Satan-controlled desires... The Israelites were to destroy all the high places of the heathen, and so show their horror at their wicked ways. But human nature is no better in those who are near to God than in those far from Him. The time soon came when Israel chose high places for themselves. Some were for idol worship, and some for the worship of the Lord. But all the high places were offensive in His sight, whatever the motives of those who set them up. They were the expression of self-will, of hearts not subject to His commandments.
Part of their pull was atmosphere, not conviction:
Departure from God took its outward form in Israel by making "high places" for themselves. It was simply a heathen habit, playing on the imagination with a worship that has no heart in it... So on the mountain tops a man could imagine himself nearer to God than in the valleys. The depths of groves and forests helped too. Along with the beauty of nature, they made him think he was nearer to the God of nature than he really was.
The phrase measures how far the rot had spread: no settlement too small, no stronghold too important. One writer sets out the order of the charges:
God shows what He had done for Israel: He delivered them from Egypt and brought them into Canaan. He then speaks of what they had done. First of all they acted "secretly" against the Lord, following the idolatry of the nations that God had driven out before them... They had also set up high places and male and female idols everywhere — in their fortified cities and even as far as the watchman's tower. In this they went to greater excess than Judah.
None of this happened overnight. Many godly Israelites tolerated the high places, where the offerings still went to the Lord:
True, people offered the sacrifices and incense to the Lord. But Scripture said Jerusalem was "the place where people ought to worship." Many godly Israelites probably counted this departure unimportant. It only paved the way for greater and more serious breaches of the law. God's people are only safe as they hold carefully and closely to the very letter of the word of God. The slightest digressions are often the prelude to wide and grave departures from obedience to God's will as revealed in His Word.
God has provided a centre for His people's worship. One writer says what it means to bypass it:
To ignore this Centre that God has provided, and to turn to human thoughts, is really to worship in the high places. It means choosing places and ways of worship that the word of God does not provide for. There is no question that many do this in all sincerity. God meets His people in grace according to the measure of their faith.
- Secretly. The charge begins with what no one else could see. God sets secret sins in the light of His presence, and brings the hidden deeds out before all.
- For themselves. Israel built the high places for themselves, not for God. Worship followed preference, not His word.
- Self-will. Shrines to idols and shrines named for the Lord offended Him alike. Each one expressed a heart not subject to His commandments.
- Everywhere. From watchtower to fortified city, a quiet compromise grew into a nationwide system. Small digressions are often the prelude to wide departures.
- Today. Swap the centre God has given for a place and way of our own, and that, in principle, is worshipping in the high places. Many do it sincerely. It is still self-will.
And they set them up columns and Asherahs on every high hill and under every green tree;
This verse sits in the list of charges that explains why Assyria carried the northern kingdom of Israel away. It names what the people built, and where. Two questions follow: what were these objects, and why did God count them as the ruin of a nation?
The verse names two things: standing pillars and Asherim. Older translations call the second one "groves," but they were not clumps of trees. The verse rules that out: these objects stood under the trees.
asherah, asherath. The word 'grove' suggests a row of trees. But that cannot be the meaning, since groves were set up 'under every green tree.' 1 Kings 14:23; 2 Kings 17:10. … the groves were made of wood, as we learn from the fact that they were cut down and burned. Judges 6:25-26; 2 Kings 23:14-15. … They constantly appear together with idols and images, and Judges 3:7 speaks of them being served along with the Baals.
The verse says they set these things up for themselves. Israel would have given a religious reason for them.
They set up for themselves sacred pillars and wooden images on high hills and under green trees. They would no doubt say that these things were to remind them of God. But God had forbidden such things. Using them always lowered God in their estimation, so that the things themselves eventually became the objects of their worship.
The locations were not accidental. Height and shade work on the imagination. People mistake that feeling for nearness to God.
So on the mountain-tops man could imagine himself nearer to God than in the valleys. The deep groves and forests helped too. With the beauty of nature, they made him think he was nearer to the God of nature than he truly was. There is indeed a witness to God in all these things: who would wish to deny it? … Still, this is just where man so often makes the fatal mistake. He puts what is only natural in place of what is spiritual, and so deceives himself.
Even high places meant to honour the Lord offended Him. Motive was not the point.
The Lord would choose His own centre, and His people had to come there with their burnt offerings and sacrifices… The time soon came, alas, when Israel chose high places for themselves. Some of these were for idolatrous worship, and some for the worship of Jehovah. But all the high places offended Him, whatever the motives of those who set them up. They expressed a self-will that invents its own ways. They came from hearts not subject to His commandments.
"Every high hill" and "every green tree" describe the good land God had given them. Israel turned the very signs of its fertility into shrines, until the map itself recorded their guilt.
Fresh privileges would be only fresh opportunity for evil. God had now brought them into a land of high hills, with trees that showed its richness. These became their places of idol worship. There they lifted up offerings that provoked Him, while claiming the offerings were for Him… So everywhere, across the countryside and the city alike, they had written out their sentence.
The prophets had a name for this, and it explains how the chapter ends.
"High places" for idol worship had dotted the whole land. In the shade of every green tree the people practised the vile customs of the surrounding nations. In spirit and in fact, these unholy, unclean rites deserved the name of harlotry that the prophets so often give them. What could God do with such a nation but put them away?
The same pull is still at work today. Notice too what God required Israel to do with these places.
The nations did this in high places, in mountains and hills and in lovely wooded areas. Many people today think the same way. They tell us they need no gathering of saints to the name of the Lord Jesus to worship, but feel closer to God outside, enjoying the beauties of nature. But Israel had to destroy this worship completely. They were to break down the pillars, burn the wooden images and cut down the carved images. No trace of these things was to be left.
- Objects. The "groves" were wooden images, not trees. They stood under the trees, beside sacred pillars, and always in company with idols.
- Ownership. Israel built them for themselves. The stated aim was to remember God, but the reminders became the objects of worship.
- Substitute. Hills and shade made men feel nearer to God than they were. Putting nature in place of what is spiritual is self-deception.
- Self-will. Even high places meant for the Lord offended Him. God had already chosen where offerings belonged; these came from self-will.
- Sentence. Israel wrote out her own verdict across every hill and tree of the land God gave her. So God put the nation away.
and there they burned incense on all the high places, as did the nations that Jehovah had carried away from before them, and they wrought wicked things to provoke Jehovah to anger;
2 Kings 17 lists the charges that sent the northern tribes into exile in Assyria. This verse names the sin at the centre of them: worship in places God never chose, copied from the nations He had already removed from that land. How can religious activity itself provoke God's anger?
Wrong worship rarely begins by openly rejecting God. One commentator draws out both the excuse Israel would have made and the outcome it always produced:
They set up for themselves sacred pillars and wooden images on high hills and under green trees. They would no doubt say that these things were to remind them of God. But God had forbidden such things. Using them always lowered God in their eyes, so that in the end the things themselves became the objects of their worship. They burned incense (which speaks of worship) in the high places "like the nations" whom God had driven out for such evil. And they did wicked things that provoked the anger of the Lord.
Not every high place was built for idols. Some were meant for the worship of the Lord Himself. It made no difference to God's verdict:
It seems to have been the custom of the nations of Canaan to set up places of worship for their false gods on various heights, which they chose to suit their own Satan-controlled desires. Jehovah told His people about the ways of these nations, and forbade them to imitate them. His Word alone must govern them in everything to do with worship, as in everything else. Jehovah would choose His own centre, and His people must come there with their burnt offerings and sacrifices. The Israelites were to destroy all the high places of these nations, and so show their horror at their wicked ways. But flesh is no better in those who are near to God than in those who are far from Him. The time soon came, sadly, when Israel chose high places for themselves. Some of these were for idolatrous worship, and some for the worship of Jehovah. But all the high places offended Him, whatever the motives of those who set them up. They were the expression of self-will in the creature, of hearts not subject to His commandments.
One king of Judah set up places of worship all over his land. A writer reads the motive behind that convenience:
He despised God's centre, Jerusalem, so he made centres all through Judah. Many locations made their worship more convenient. Satan likes to make people feel at ease, with no exercise of heart and conscience to know and to obey the Word of God. So he has religions of every kind to cater to the fleshly desires of everyone. But such things provoked the Lord to anger.
This verse sets Israel beside the nations God drove out before them. The comparison counts against Israel, not for them:
Israel was not to become unclean in any of these things. The nations of Canaan did all these things, and He cast them out before Israel. How much guiltier, then, would Israel be! The very land was made unclean... For such evil was intolerable in His eyes, and yet more offensive in His own people than in any other; a truth soon forgotten among the Jews, and later in Christendom. It is by receiving the good that is from God, His word and above all His Christ, that souls are kept from evil.
God's anger here was not sudden. One writer points to this very chapter, and explains why His patience lasted so long and why it had a limit:
The patience of God bore long with the rebellion of His people, and He took pity on their affliction (see 2 Kings 17). It lasted as long as this patience could be a testimony to the real character of the God who showed it. Such patience did not deny holiness and righteousness, nor give a sanction to sin. So it was still possible to bless the people without sacrificing all true testimony to what God is, even in the eyes of the nations; in a word, "until there was no remedy."
The end came, and the loss proved lasting. Another writer traces what followed the Assyrian invasion:
"In the ninth year of Hoshea, the king of Assyria captured Samaria, and he carried the Israelites away to Assyria..." Read the whole chapter, which gives the account of this. These tribes have never been restored.
- Place, not just praise. Incense speaks of worship. But worship offered where God never appointed it stands among the wicked things that provoked Him.
- Self-will. Every high place offended God, even one meant for Him, because it expressed a heart not subject to His commandments.
- Convenience. Scattered centres made worship easy and left heart and conscience untested. Religion was shaped to suit people, not to obey God.
- Copying. Israel copied the nations God had already removed for these very practices. The same evil is more offensive in His own people than in anyone else.
- Patience with a limit. God bore long with them while His patience could still testify to who He is. When there was no remedy, Assyria carried the ten tribes away, and they were never restored.
and they served idols, as to which Jehovah had said to them, Ye shall not do this thing.
One sentence sums up Israel's ruin: they served idols, and God had already told them not to. So the verse raises a hard question. How does a people who heard God's own voice end up serving things that cannot speak?
The force of the verse lies in the words "the LORD had said to them." This was not a grey area. One writer notes how little excuse this nation had, given what they had seen and heard at the start.
The sons of Israel of all men had the least excuse for idolatry. They heard His voice out of the middle of the fire. They begged for a mediator in case they should die. They saw no form. And they heard Him condemn the pagan practice of representing Him by any likeness of a creature in heaven above, on earth beneath, or in the waters below. He could not be the true God if He allowed people to bow down to another god. Real service must belong to Him alone.
So what were these idols? One writer looks at the objects themselves, and at what they do to the people who bow to them.
What were they, these idol-images? Simply matter — silver and gold — shaped by men's hands! It has a mouth and eyes. We say that both of these "speak," and each is in its own way a "witness" for the man himself, a pointer to what is in the heart. But the idol gives its worshipper no response by word or look. In fact, it senses nothing. It does not hear the voice that cries to it. It does not notice the smell of incense or of sacrifice. It can stretch out no hand to help. Its foot will not move to bring relief. Not even a murmur of sound is in the idle throat. What can these senseless gods do but drag the men who bow before them down into beings as senseless? And this is the just penalty on those who can forsake God to follow their own inventions.
Nobody in Israel announced that they were abandoning God. They had reasons for the objects they set up.
They set up for themselves sacred pillars and wooden images on high hills and under green trees. They would no doubt say that these things were there to remind them of God. But God had forbidden such things. Using them always lowered God in their eyes, until the things themselves became the objects of their worship.
Idols are nothing, so why does God treat them so seriously? One writer weighs how lightly people take them, and how God takes them.
In every age, nothing shows the gap between God's word and men's thoughts so clearly as this: people treat idols and strange gods lightly, and God hates that, above all in His own people. It may not be any deliberate plan to give up His worship. It may only be what they count a small thing — going along with idolatry now and then while still professing His name. But God refuses any such unholy compromise outright. He does so quite apart from a further danger: those who allow it may revolt from Him completely. It strikes at His majesty, at holiness and truth, and is intolerable in His eyes.
Idolatry did not end with carved wood and stone. One writer defines it far more widely.
You do not have to bow down to a block of wood or a stone to be an idolater. Whatever commands the heart is an idol. Giving the heart to that thing is idolatry, and the one who gives it is an idolater.
One writer calls this hidden idol an "image of jealousy."
And this image of jealousy is still what threatens us all. It stands, as it were, at the very entrance when we would come near to God Himself. And it need not be a visible or open image to do this. What we are really doing is trying to have a god that fits our own thoughts. Such a god always stands against the true God. What a warning that is for us.
This verse sits inside a long review of Israel's history. That review is not the last word.
Now God Himself sums up this long history of Israel which begins in Exodus and ends in our chapter. It is not over for good. It is over only for this people and its kings, viewed as responsible.
- Said — God had spoken plainly; Israel, of all people, had heard His voice and could not plead ignorance.
- Served — what they served could not hear, see, help or speak, and it dragged its worshippers down to its own level.
- Slipped — Israel called the pillars and images reminders of God, yet they lowered Him in the mind until they replaced Him.
- Spreads — anything that commands the heart is an idol, even a god shaped to fit our own thoughts.
- Stops — the history closes for Israel as a responsible nation. It does not close for good.
And Jehovah testified against Israel and against Judah, by all the prophets, all the seers, saying, Turn from your evil ways, and keep my commandments, my statutes, according to all the law which I commanded your fathers, and which I sent to you through my servants the prophets.
Chapter 17 lists why God let the northern kingdom fall, and one line in that list defends God Himself. He had warned both Israel and Judah, sending prophet after prophet with the same call: turn from evil and keep His commands.
A stream of prophets was itself a symptom. Their arrival showed how far both kingdoms had already drifted.
Israel was now nearing its bitter end, with Judah's ruin in full view. The fact that God raised up prophets proved that the end was near, because prophecy only comes in when people depart from God. When things run smooth and fair, there is no revelation of this kind, and morally it is not needed. In days of comparative faithfulness, what we get is a setting out of privilege and duty. But God's people may despise the privilege and leave the duty undone. When their guilt is obvious and judgment must follow, prophecy comes. It tells of God judging the evil, yet also of mercy and even better blessing for the obedient remnant.
The verse calls the prophets God's servants. That title, used strictly, belongs to a narrow group of messengers.
Both Testaments use the term "bondmen" in a narrow and restricted sense. It described the prophets of old (Amos 3:7; Dan. 9:6; 2 Kings 17:13), and also the apostles and others of reputation in the Church (Phil. 1:1; Col. 1:7, see Greek).
The verse sends them back to the law given to their fathers. But the call to turn is something the law by itself could not give.
The prophets' ministry was very different from the law considered on its own. The law left no room for repentance. It demanded obedience. When it did not get obedience, it had nothing to announce or give but condemnation and the curse. The Lord required obedience — steady, unbroken obedience. He was not asking for repentance and a return to obedience. But God sent the prophets to propose, as it were, new terms... It was a further test — a milder one — to prove whether it was in the heart or will of man to turn to God, and serve and obey Him.
The verse names not one prophet but all of them. God did not warn once, and that patience ran on to the sending of His Son.
In His goodness, God has kept renewing His testimony. In His patience He has sent His prophets, rising up early to send them, as it is said, until there was no remedy (see Jer. 7). Last of all He sent His own Son. The result, as we have already said, is that all the righteous blood, from Abel to Zacharias, came upon one generation. They filled up the measure of their fathers' wickedness by rejecting God's last witness.
Nineveh was a foreign city with far less light than Israel had. It heard God's word and turned.
When the people of Nineveh heard God's word, they believed it and put on sackcloth. Their king led the way, calling for a fast and for sackcloth, and he added, "let everyone turn from his evil way and from the violence that is in his hands" (Jonah 3:8). Then we read, "When God saw what they did, how they turned from their evil way, God relented of the disaster that He had said He would do to them, and He did not do it" (Jonah 3:10). How very sad it is to see God's people Israel refuse His offers of mercy. They were just as evil as the Ninevites, but with less excuse, since they had more light. They would not turn from their evil ways.
God did not have to explain Himself. He did it anyway, and He put the reasons in His Word for later readers.
While God has no obligation to explain to us why He does what He does, in His Word He often does so. As He closes the story of the ten-tribe kingdom, God gives us a detailed list in 2 Kings 17:7-23. It sets out why He brought this kingdom to an end. God has placed it in His Word for our warning and instruction. We do well to examine it. Romans 11:20-21 tells us: "Do not become proud, but fear. For if God did not spare the natural branches, neither will He spare you."
- Warning sent. Prophet after prophet was a sign of drift, not health. Prophecy only comes in when people depart from God.
- Warning owned. God called the men who carried it His own bondmen — the same title He later gave to apostles.
- Warning merciful. The law demanded obedience and could offer nothing else. The prophets came with new terms — a milder test of whether man's heart would turn to God.
- Warning repeated. God kept renewing His testimony and sending prophets until there was no remedy. Last of all He sent His Son.
- Warning recorded. Nineveh turned with far less light; Israel had more and refused. God put the reasons in His Word so that later readers would fear, not presume.
But they would not hear, and hardened their necks, like to the neck of their fathers, who did not believe in Jehovah their God.
This verse explains why Israel fell. God kept sending prophets, but stiff necks and unbelieving hearts — the same as in their fathers — shut the message out.
Moses used the same phrase when he spoke to Israel. One writer explains what it means, and what would have to change:
So he tells them to circumcise the foreskin of their heart — that is, to cut off the selfish, fleshly desires of their heart. They are to "be stiff-necked no longer." Being stiff-necked refers to the stubbornness of wanting our own way.
Stiffening the neck was not one bad decision. It was Israel's answer to every appeal. The same writer shows what it cost them:
Over and over again they refused every appeal of the Lord. They stiffened their necks in stubborn rebellion against His authority (v.14). So, having given up any respect for God Himself, they were free to reject His statutes and the covenant He had made with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. They wanted freedom to do their own will, and followed the folly of other nations. They did not realise that such freedom was only painful bondage to sin (v.15).
The verse names the reason the fathers behaved as they did: they did not believe the LORD their God. One commentator, writing on the Gospels, links the words "unbelief" and "disobedience":
This is not the blatant breaking of the law through human tradition, but unbelief — the source of all disobedience. In the language the Holy Spirit uses, unbelief and disobedience differ only by a shade. The first is the root; the second is the fruit… All their disobedience toward God flowed from unbelief of Him, and so from a wrong view of their own moral condition.
The comparison to "their fathers" is not flattery of the past. It is the charge that nothing had changed:
The history that follows shows that the children were like their fathers. The flesh learns nothing from its own failure, or from the failure of past generations. It never changes.
One writer asks what a son owes to the memory of his father's fall:
Suppose a child grows up knowing his father's dishonour, and hears of his disgrace and punishment. Would not that sin look especially hateful to him, if he had any right feeling? His father's evil ways would always stand before him as a public example. But suppose the son treats it lightly, and uses it as encouragement to walk the same path. Is it not just that a still more severe punishment should fall on that son?
Verse 14 stands against the background of verse 13, where God sends prophet after prophet. Judgment came only after the warnings had run out:
They served idols even though the Lord had warned them not to do such things. He testified against them when they did so. He sent many prophets to command them to turn from their wicked ways and keep God's commandments (vv.12-13).
Another writer follows what happened to those messages as judgment came closer:
We can trace the patience and goodness of God as displayed in them… But a time came when there was no remedy. Israel would not hear; God's people would have none of His reproofs. As that time drew near, the prophetic messages grew more frequent. They warned the people of the coming judgments, but they also told them of the future and final blessing.
A stiff neck can be one person's problem too. One writer applies a proverb about it to Ahab, a king who heard God's word and only sulked:
Such is the attitude of foolish unbelief. Ahab is a sad witness to the truth of Proverbs 29:1, "He who is often reproved, yet stiffens his neck, will suddenly be broken beyond healing."
- Root. Unbelief came first; disobedience was its fruit. Israel did not just break rules — they did not believe the God who gave them.
- Neck. A stiff neck is the stubbornness of wanting your own way. The cure is a heart with its selfish desires cut away.
- Inheritance. The children matched their fathers. Human nature learns nothing from past failure, and a son who copies it is more guilty, not less.
- Patience. God testified, warned, and sent prophet after prophet. Judgment came at the end of the pleading, not at the start.
- Limit. Refusal has an end point. The one who is often reproved and still stiffens his neck breaks beyond healing. God warns us now so that we do not repeat the story.
And they rejected his statutes, and his covenant which he had made with their fathers, and his testimonies which he had testified unto them; and they followed vanity and became vain, and [went] after the nations that were round about them, concerning whom Jehovah had charged them that they should not do like them.
This verse reads like a coroner's report on a nation. The ten tribes threw away what God gave them, chased what was empty, and copied the nations God had told them to avoid.
The order matters. The collapse began with a refusal of God's authority. Everything else followed from that.
Again and again they refused every appeal of the Lord. They stiffened their necks in stubborn rebellion against His authority (v.14). They had given up any respect for God Himself. So they were quite free to reject His statutes and His covenant that He had made with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. They wanted freedom to do their own will, following the folly of other nations. They did not realise that this freedom was only painful bondage to sin (v.15).
The freedom they reached for turned out to be a chain. Statutes, covenant, warnings — all three went once they refused God Himself.
An older translation reads "they followed vanity, and became vain." Worship shapes the worshipper: worthless objects make worthless people.
What were they, these idol-images? Simply matter — silver and gold — shaped by human hands! Mouth and eyes are all there... But the idol gives its worshipper no response by word or look. He is aware of nothing: the voice that cries to him he does not hear, the smell of incense or of sacrifice he does not notice. He can stretch out no hand to help, no foot of his will move to bring relief, not even a murmur of sound is in that idle throat. What can these senseless gods do but degrade the men who bow before them into beings just as senseless? And this is the fair penalty on those who can forsake God to follow what are plainly their own inventions.
Israel did not stop worshipping when they left God. No one does. Something always rushes in to fill the empty place.
People are made so that they must worship. If they do not worship the true God, they will inevitably worship some false god. I say "inevitably" for a reason. Some claim not to believe in any God at all. Even these turn out to be worshippers of something or other that stands towards them in the place of God.
The last clause is the sharpest, because God had forbidden this one thing. Israel was meant to show the nations what God is like. Instead they copied those nations, and the nations learned nothing.
How little the nations of the earth learned about God and His word from the way Israel acted! Instead, His name was blasphemed continually because of their ways. They should have held the high and holy and happy ground of loving obedience to God's commandments. Instead they sank to the level of the nations around them. They adopted their habits, worshipped their gods, and walked in their ways. So those nations never saw the lofty wisdom, purity, and moral glory of God's statutes. They saw only the weakness, folly, and moral degradation of a people who boasted of holding the very words that condemned them.
God later put the same charge to His people as a question.
When Israel came out of Egypt they had a deep sense of the Lord's care and protection. "Thus says the LORD: 'What wrong did your fathers find in me that they went far from me, and went after worthlessness, and became worthless?'" (Jeremiah 2:5). What a moving plea for the Lord to lay before His people. Had He changed since that day? No, there was no change on His side. They had lost His presence, and they were unaware of the loss.
A nation can trade God for nothing and never feel the moment it happens.
God did not have to explain why this kingdom fell. He explained anyway, and He put the reasons on record.
While God has no obligation to explain to us why He does what He does, in His Word He often does so. As He closes the story of the ten-tribe kingdom, God gives us a detailed list of particulars in 2 Kings 17:7-23 as to why He brought this kingdom to an end. God has placed it in His Word for our warning and instruction. We do well to examine it. Romans 11:20-21 tells us: "Do not become proud, but fear. For if God did not spare the natural branches, neither will he spare you."
- Rejection. It starts with refusing God's authority. Once respect for Him goes, His statutes, His covenant and His warnings are easy to discard.
- Emptiness. They chose nothings. A nothing cannot help. It can only drag its worshippers down to its own level.
- Inevitability. No one stops worshipping. Drop the true God and something else takes His place, whether or not you call it a god.
- Imitation. Copying the nations was not a private failure. It robbed those nations of the one witness God had placed among them.
- Warning. God spelled out His reasons on purpose. He kept the record of Israel's fall as a warning to everyone standing today: do not be proud, but fear.
And they forsook all the commandments of Jehovah their God, and made them molten images, two calves, and made an Asherah, and worshipped all the host of the heavens, and served Baal;
God's summary of why Israel's northern kingdom went into exile in Assyria reaches its low point here. Why does leaving God's word never leave an empty space, and how can worship that still uses God's name be real idolatry?
The verse names what they gave up before it lists what they took on. One commentator asks what was left to fill the gap, then traces how the evil spread:
Leaving the commandments of God, what else could they find as a substitute? Only the worship of idols. So verse 16 refers back to the great sin of Jeroboam in making two golden calves... and making these the centres of Israel's worship. But once a thing like this is done, the evil does not stop there. They then began to worship all the host of heaven, having "many gods and many lords" (1 Cor. 8:5), and Baal became a favourite idol.
The calves were not offered as rival gods. One dictionary explains why an image meant to stand for the true God is the more deceptive form of idolatry:
This form of idolatry is more plausible than disowning God altogether and setting up an idol instead. But it is just as truly idolatry, and God punished it in a way no one could miss. The same worship existed in Egypt with the bull Apis, said to represent the god Osiris. This may have given the Israelites the idea of making a calf. Jeroboam repeated the same sin, because he was afraid his people would go up to Jerusalem to worship: he set up two calves, one in Bethel and one in Dan, and proclaimed, "Behold your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt" (1 Kings 12:28-33). Idolatry did not stop there with Israel, for they went on to worship "all the host of heaven, and served Baal." 2 Kings 17:16.
One writer points back to Sinai, and answers an excuse still made today:
Jeroboam repeated the sin of Aaron and the people of Israel at the foot of Sinai, where God had already spoken the solemn words: "You shall have no other gods before me." It has been argued that Jeroboam was really worshipping Jehovah, but with the aid of visible images. This is urged today to excuse blatant idolatry. The Bible does not support this. It says plainly: "This thing became a sin." God does not need an image for people to worship Him. In fact, the very idea is condemned throughout Scripture.
Older translations call the next item in the verse a grove. One dictionary shows that the word does not mean trees at all:
The word "grove" naturally suggests a row of trees. But that cannot be the meaning, since groves were set up "under every green tree"... The groves were made of wood, as we learn from them being cut down and burnt... They are regularly linked with idols and images, and Judges 3:7 speaks of them being served along with the Baals.
The verse lists the host of heaven and Baal side by side. One writer ties both to the sky, and ties the Asherah in with them:
The "groves" so often mentioned in the history of Ahab and Elijah were really statues of Ashtoreth. Baal seems to have represented the sun, and Ashtoreth the moon. In God's charge against the Northern Kingdom, as the people went into captivity in Assyria, we read that they "made an Asherah and worshiped all the host of heaven and served Baal" (2 Kings 17:16). Note how "all the host of heaven" is here linked with Baal. In Jer. 7:18 Ashtoreth is called "the queen of heaven." From Job 31:26-27 we gather that honouring the sun and moon was the earliest form of idolatry.
The calves were not a passing phase. One writer traces the exile itself back to them:
The idolatry of Jeroboam stayed with Israel until they went into captivity, and was an outstanding cause of it. As it is written: "Jeroboam drove Israel from following the LORD and made them commit great sin... they did not depart from them, until the LORD removed Israel out of His sight... So Israel was exiled from their own land to Assyria until this day" (2 Kings 17:21–23).
- Left. The sin starts with what they dropped: God's commandments. Everything else in the verse fills that gap.
- Substituted. The calves were sold as worship of the God who brought Israel out of Egypt. Commentators call that a more plausible idolatry than open denial — and just as real.
- Spread. Once they allowed images, the list grew: a carved Asherah, then the whole host of heaven, then Baal. No idolatry stays where it started.
- Skyward. Baal and the host of heaven stand together because both go back to sun and moon. Writers call that the earliest idolatry of all.
- Swept away. Jeroboam's calves stayed with Israel to the end. Scripture names them as an outstanding cause of the exile.
and they caused their sons and their daughters to pass through the fire, and used divination and enchantments, and sold themselves to do evil in the sight of Jehovah, to provoke him to anger.
The ESV says Israel burned their children as offerings. Older translations say they made them "pass through the fire," and some have read that as a rite the children survived. Other passages rule it out.
The motive makes it worse. Parents offered their children as an act of worship.
This evil worship led to other abuses. Parents made their sons and daughters pass through the fire and offered them as sacrifices. They thought that such horrible evil would gain favour with God or with their gods (v.17).
The second charge names two practices that travel with idolatry. One curses people; the other flatters them.
Witchcraft and soothsaying went along with such abuses. People used witchcraft to call down curses on others. Soothsaying is predicting the future in order to soothe people. This is how evil spirits claim to predict the future: they make people feel good. The false prophets did this when they tried to make Ahab comfortable about going to fight for Ramoth Gilead (1 Kings 22:12). Only Michaiah prophesied the truth, that Ahab would die in his attempt to gain Ramoth Gilead (1 Kings 22:17).
God had warned Israel in the plainest terms long before. He had also told them why the land was theirs at all.
The third charge is the sharpest. Evil did not overtake them; they traded themselves away for it.
Israel "sold themselves to do evil in the sight of the Lord," that is, they in effect sold themselves as slaves to satanic power.
The word behind it carries that force, and it reaches further than Israel's history.
It is the condition of us all, though we may discover it only when the light of the gospel shines upon our fallen state.
God did not act on the first offence, or the hundredth. The verse belongs to a list compiled over centuries.
Though the Lord bore patiently with Israel for years, yet the day finally came when He removed them from their land, leaving only the tribe of Judah at that time (v.18). Yet Judah is mentioned also as having failed to keep the commandments of the Lord, following too in the way of Israel. So the writing was on the wall for Judah also, but the godliness of some of their kings delayed the captivity of Judah for some years.
God did remove Israel as a nation. But being out of sight is not the same as being forgotten.
Finally He removed Israel out of His sight as a nation. Yet His all-knowing love knows where each person is. And nothing will frustrate His purposes, which are secure in Christ.
- Sacrifice — Israel burned their own children as offerings, hoping to win a god's favour.
- Sorcery — Curses and soothing predictions came in with it. Both are how evil spirits work, as with the prophets who flattered Ahab.
- Scripture — God had already named and banned every one of these practices. They were the reason the earlier nations lost the land.
- Slavery — To sell yourself to do evil is to sell yourself into slavery. Paul uses the same word of himself, and it is the condition of us all until the gospel exposes it.
- Sentence — God removed Israel from His sight as a nation. Even then He knows where each person is, and His purposes stand secure in Christ.
Therefore Jehovah was very angry with Israel, and removed them out of his sight there remained but the tribe of Judah only.
The northern kingdom's story ends in one sentence: God's anger, Israel put out of His sight, only Judah left. Behind that short verdict lie centuries of patience and a long list of charges — and a question: is being put out of God's sight the last word?
The verse reads like a sudden outburst. Commentators trace it instead to a long patience that ran out — and even then, Judah was not touched at once.
The Lord bore patiently with Israel for years. Yet the day came when He removed them from their land, leaving only the tribe of Judah at that time (v.18). Judah, too, had failed to keep the commandments of the Lord, following in the way of Israel. So the writing was on the wall for Judah too. But the godliness of some of their kings delayed Judah's captivity for some years.
God's case against Israel is set out in the verses just before this one. What condemned them was not one act but a refusal to listen to the prophets.
The Lord had testified against Israel and against Judah by all the prophets. Had they listened to these? No. They had abandoned the commandments of the covenant and given themselves up to a terrible falling away from God. Verses 14 to 17 describe it in every part. Finally, in His anger God removed them from before His face, and "None was left but the tribe of Judah only." That was no doubt for a short time, yet God still recognised Judah, as Hosea said: "Ephraim has surrounded me with lies, and the house of Israel with deceit; but Judah still walks with God, and with the holy things of truth" (Hosea 11:12).
The people also invented worship for themselves, and defended it with the best of intentions.
They set up for themselves sacred pillars and wooden images on high hills and under green trees. They would no doubt say that these things were to remind them of God. But God had forbidden such things. Using them always lowered God in their eyes, until the things themselves became the objects of their worship.
Being put out of God's sight meant being put out of the land. Nothing in the years since has reversed it.
The king of Assyria besieged Samaria for three years, finally taking it and all Israel, and moved the captives to areas in Assyria, to Halah and the cities of the Medes. This was a sweeping judgment of God against His people Israel, and the ten tribes have never returned to their land since that time… God has now allowed this great dispersion of the ten tribes. Only a miraculous act of God at the end of the Tribulation will bring His people Israel back to their land.
Judah alone was left, and that sounds like a rescue. Commentators read it instead as a spotlight on the survivor, who watched judgment fall next door and learned nothing from it.
They had proved themselves rebellious to the royal house that God Himself had chosen for them. They completed that rebellion by falling away from God altogether. After they ignored His warnings, He swept away the ten tribes of Israel first, as a most solemn lesson to those who remained. But Judah was deaf and blind to what God was pointing out through guilty Israel.
The delay changed nothing. Judah got another 130 years and ended in the same place — though that loss is not the end of God's plan.
Judah learned no lesson from the ruin of their brothers. For 130 years more the Lord bore with their evil ways, and then gave them into the hands of Nebuchadnezzar… On the ground of responsibility everything is lost. But grace will yet more than restore what Solomon and Israel so foolishly threw away.
Israel's long history closes at this verse. What closes, one writer insists, is a chapter — this people tested on their own responsibility — not God's purpose for them.
Not that it is ended for good. It is ended only as far as this people and its kings are concerned, viewed as responsible. The heart of the prophet Hosea, moved with divine compassion, announces Israel's future restoration. Hosea writes: "My heart is turned within me, my compassion is stirred. I will not carry out the fierceness of my anger. I will not again destroy Ephraim, for I am God, and not man."
- Patience — The anger came last, not first. God bore with Israel for years and warned them by every prophet.
- Provocation — They invented their own worship and called it a reminder of God. In the end they worshipped the reminders, and God sank in their eyes.
- Removal — Out of His sight meant out of the land. The ten tribes have never returned; only a future act of God will bring them back.
- Remnant — Judah was left, and God still recognised it. But Judah learned nothing from its neighbour's ruin, and followed it into captivity 130 years later.
- Restoration — What closes here is Israel's history under test, not God's purpose. Grace will restore more than they threw away.
Also Judah kept not the commandments of Jehovah their God, but walked in the statutes of Israel which they had made.
Assyria has just carried Israel off, and the chapter stops to explain why. Then, before that verdict ends, God names the one tribe still standing — Judah — as guilty of the same thing.
The chapter is about Israel's downfall, yet verse 19 widens the charge. One writer notes how short the mention of Judah is:
In verses 19-20 God mentions Judah in passing. Judah had followed the rules set up by the ten tribes, and the Lord was rejecting all the descendants of Israel.
Judah did not invent this ruin; she copied it. One commentator traces the copying back to a single alliance between a godly king of Judah and Ahab:
The kings of Israel set the deadly example of a path that led Judah and all Israel to ruin (see 2 Kings 16:3). The pious Jehoshaphat's alliance with Ahab was the origin of all this, for evil bears fruit which continues long to reproduce itself. Alas! What is man when he turns aside from the Lord's ways? He leaves the narrow, straight path of God's word and will. He leaves the path of faith — the true path of an obedient spirit.
The verse is careful about whose rules these were: Israel made them. Jeroboam, Israel's first king, had set up a festival to rival the one God commanded, and the writer draws the line straight to our own religious habits:
Jeroboam's "feast" copied the Feast of Tabernacles, which God had commanded to be kept in the seventh month. The eighth month was the month Jeroboam "devised of his own heart" — a heart that is always "deceitful" and "desperately wicked." And how many practices and customs in the Christian world have been "devised" out of men's own hearts, with no foundation in Scripture! Many seem to think that in spiritual things it is fine for "every man to do what is right in his own eyes," instead of "This is what the Lord says."
That is the force of the phrase in our verse: Judah took up a religion that men had thought up.
Judah watched the northern kingdom carried away, and still did not change:
Judah learned no lesson from the ruin of her fellow tribes. For another 130 years the Lord bore with her evil ways. In the end He gave her into the hands of Nebuchadnezzar.
One writer sets Judah beside Israel and says her better knowledge made her guilt heavier:
Israel's uncleanness was well known, and God had called her back in vain. But Judah was even more treacherous. She despised the warning though she knew better, and sinned even more brazenly.
Judgment falls, but God does not give up His claim on the land:
Though the land lay desolate, God was caring for the land of His inheritance. He was claiming His rights over it and would not let them be taken away. He would not have the land fall again under the curse from which He freed it when He destroyed the Canaanites. Whatever the ruin, the name of the Lord must not be wiped out of the land of Israel. This was with the future in view, for the remnant — the true Israel — is to inherit the land.
Verse 19 closes the book on what people could produce by obedience. It does not close the book on God:
The "throne of the Lord," set up in Jerusalem, was overthrown, and David's lamp was put out. On the ground of responsibility all is lost, but grace will yet more than restore what Solomon and Israel so foolishly threw away. God has pledged Himself that David will never lack a man to sit on his throne. Christ is the fulfilment of this.
- Example. Judah copied Israel's kings. One alliance with Ahab bore fruit for generations, because evil keeps reproducing itself.
- Invention. The rules Judah followed were ones Israel made — worship thought up in a man's own heart, instead of what the Lord says.
- Warning. Judah watched the ten tribes carried away and learned nothing. Knowing better made her guilt greater, not smaller.
- Patience. God bore with Judah for another 130 years before Nebuchadnezzar came. Delay is mercy, not pardon.
- Grace. Human responsibility failed completely. Yet Christ secures David's throne, and God keeps the land for the true Israel.
And Jehovah rejected all the seed of Israel; and afflicted them, and delivered them into the hand of spoilers, until he had cast them out of his sight.
This verse closes God's account of why the northern kingdom fell. It piles judgment on judgment, and it raises two hard questions. How far does the rejection reach, and is it the last word?
This verdict was not sudden. It followed generations of appeals that the people heard and pushed aside.
Again and again God warned His people through prophets and seers. He told them to turn from their evil ways and keep His commandments and statutes. But the people refused to hear. They had rejected His statutes and covenant and testimonies. They had followed the ways of the nations around them. They had sold themselves to do evil in the sight of the Lord, provoking Him to anger.
Notice the order. They rejected His statutes first; only then does the record say He rejected them.
Verse 19 has just named Judah. One commentator follows the movement of the passage. God names Judah in passing, then turns back to the northern tribes and their break from the house of David.
In verses 19-20 God mentions Judah as in passing. This latter had followed the statutes established by the ten tribes, and the Lord was rejecting all the seed of Israel. But from verses 20-24 He returns to Ephraim and to its separation from the house of David.
Commentators differ on how far "all the descendants of Israel" reaches. One reads verses 19–20 as taking in Judah's later fall too. Another keeps verse 20 for the ten tribes alone:
Verse 20 goes back to Israel, however. It speaks of God's rejection of these 10 tribes. He afflicted them and delivered them into the hand of plunderers, and it ended in their captivity by Assyria.
Either way, Judah does not escape. Judah watched Israel go, then walked the same road.
The Lord bore with Israel patiently for years. But the day came at last when He removed them from their land, leaving only the tribe of Judah at that time (v.18). Yet Judah also failed to keep the commandments of the Lord, walking in Israel's way too. So the writing was on the wall for Judah also, but the godliness of some of their kings delayed the captivity of Judah for some years.
The loss went beyond a defeat and a deportation. The kingship God had set up in Jerusalem went down with the nation. Yet that is where one writer finds hope.
The "throne of the Lord," established in Jerusalem, was overthrown, and David's lamp went out. All is lost on the ground of responsibility, but grace will yet more than restore what Solomon and Israel so foolishly threw away.
The verdict written over the nation was "not my people." Yet one writer sees God's first purpose for them as marred for a time by their sin, not set aside.
All exhortation was in vain. They "sold themselves to do evil in the sight of the Lord, and the Lord rejected all the descendants of Israel" (2 Kings 17:17-20). And so the name Lo-ammi, "not my people" (Hosea 1), stood over the nation. But one day they will walk another road. As the ransomed of the Lord they will return and come to Zion with songs. That road bears witness that God's first purpose for them was never set aside, but will be carried out in full — their separation from evil, which their sin has only marred for a time.
God does not owe us His reasons. Here He gives them in detail, and He gives them for our sake.
While God has no obligation to explain to us why He does what He does, yet in His Word He often does so. As He concludes the story of the ten-tribe kingdom, God gives us a detailed bill of particulars in 2 Kings 17:7-23 as to why He brought an end to this kingdom. God has placed it in His Word for our warning and instruction. We do well to examine it. Romans 11:20-21 tells us: "Do not become proud, but fear. For if God did not spare the natural branches, neither will he spare you."
- Warned. Prophets and seers called them back again and again. The people refused to hear.
- Rejected. They rejected His statutes, covenant and testimonies first. Only then does the verse record His rejection of them, with affliction and plunderers.
- Widened. Judah copied Israel's ways, so the same verdict fell on Judah too. Godly kings only delayed it.
- Lost. On the ground of responsibility all was lost. The throne in Jerusalem fell and David's lamp went out.
- Restored. The nation carried the name "not my people" for a time. But grace will more than restore what they threw away.
For Israel had rent [the kingdom] from the house of David; and they had made Jeroboam the son of Nebat king; and Jeroboam violently turned Israel from following Jehovah, and made them sin a great sin.
This verse looks back to explain how the northern kingdom came to ruin. It names the moment the ten tribes were torn away from David's family and given to Jeroboam. Two questions follow. Whose act was the split, God's or man's? And what made Jeroboam's sin so great that his name still carries it?
One writer walks through the verse step by step, starting with who did the tearing.
It was God who tore Israel from the house of David after Solomon's death. Jeroboam then became king. He drove Israel from following the Lord and caused them to commit a great sin. Their bad condition showed in their willingness to follow a wicked leader and accept all his sinful decrees and actions.
God had settled that judgment long before it landed. One writer goes back to the day a prophet met Jeroboam.
Ahijah the prophet meets Jeroboam outside Jerusalem. He tears the new garment he is wearing — the kingdom itself was still quite new — and gives ten parts to Jeroboam. At that very moment the kingdom is torn out of Solomon's hands, although this only becomes clear later. One tribe is left to the house of David, because of grace's free choice toward David and Jerusalem.
The same event has two sides, and the same writer holds both.
No doubt it was a judgment of the Lord against Solomon, and God ordered it as such. But on the other hand it was the fruit of the evil heart of Israel. The temple of God at Jerusalem meant little to them once they thought of becoming a nation independent of Judah. Even so, Israel might never have dreamed of piecing together a new religion of its own out of scraps, if Jeroboam's political aims had not pushed the people onto this path. He was a complete stranger to the fear of God.
Jeroboam had a political problem. He solved it by changing how the people worshipped.
He judged by human wisdom and forgot the fear of Jehovah. So he made two golden calves. Shared worship was a powerful link, and he wanted it broken, so that it would no longer tie his subjects to Judah and Jerusalem. He had to set up a new priesthood. Everything about worship he invented out of his own heart. Israel's sin became a fixed rule, and the phrase "Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin" became the sad title of their first king.
Another writer lists what Jeroboam set up, and turns it into a warning.
He appointed priests from among the common people, and sacrifices were offered and feast days invented. So the nation, led by their king, sank at once into open idolatry. It is a warning to everyone in the Christian world who invents forms of worship out of his own heart.
The verse says Jeroboam drove Israel away. One writer weighs what that did to the nation.
Jeroboam stands out in the Old Testament as the great division maker. Under him the great mass of God's people, ten of the twelve tribes, broke away from God's centre at that time. Again and again, like a death knell, the Spirit marks this man out with these sad words: "Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin." … Personal sins are bad enough. But to turn God's people away from the centre which He has set up — what could be worse?
Jeroboam held the throne, and that changes the reckoning.
Wickedness in a man who holds an office of trust is worse, and rightly treated as more serious, than the same evil would be in someone under him.
What one man started, later kings kept going.
What Jeroboam brought in went on dishonouring Jehovah until He removed Israel from the land. Eighteen kings sat on Israel's throne after Jeroboam. Of almost every one the record says that he followed, or did not turn from, the ways of Jeroboam, who made Israel to sin.
Kings are remembered for many things. Jeroboam is remembered for one.
This is that Jeroboam who "drove Israel from following the LORD and made them commit great sin" (2 Kings 17:21). God has placed the stamp of eternal infamy on his name.
- Torn — God tore the kingdom away in judgment. Ahijah showed it before Solomon died, and grace left one tribe to David's house.
- Chosen — commentators hold both sides. God ordered the tearing, and Israel's own heart no longer valued the temple at Jerusalem.
- Devised — the great sin was invented worship: calves, a new priesthood, feast days, all from Jeroboam's own heart, all to hold a throne.
- Driven — his guilt was not private. He moved a whole people off God's chosen centre, and God weighs a leader's sin by the trust he holds.
- Repeated — eighteen kings walked in his ways. God removed Israel from the land, and the stamp of that sin stays on Jeroboam's name.
And the children of Israel walked in all the sins of Jeroboam which he did; they did not depart from them
This verse sits at the end of the northern kingdom's story. Israel kept the religion their first king invented, and they never let it go. So who carries the blame? Jeroboam "made Israel to sin" — but what about the nation that followed him?
The previous verse says Jeroboam drove Israel from following the Lord. This verse says Israel walked. One writer holds both statements together.
Maybe Israel would never have dreamed of forging a new religion for itself out of bits and pieces. But the political aims of Jeroboam, a complete stranger to the fear of God, forced the people onto this path. "Jeroboam drove Israel from following the Lord and made them commit great sin" (v. 21). On the other hand, "the people of Israel walked" (so they were themselves guilty) "in all the sins that Jeroboam did. They did not depart from them" (v. 22). And Israel was carried away to Assyria.
A second writer draws the same line from the people's side: what the verse exposes is not merely a bad king but a nation content with him.
Their bad condition was exposed by their willingness to follow a wicked leader and accept all his sinful decrees and actions (v. 22).
Jeroboam's golden calves served a purpose. That purpose is why the ten tribes held on to them.
The golden calves were a political religion, and it suited the policy of the ten tribes to keep it. If the ten tribes had no calves of gold, they would have gone back to their loyalty to the Lord in Jerusalem. The calves were the great means of having another centre... To make a kingdom he had to make a religion. Dissolve a bond as important as a shared religion, and men's minds divide; then you cannot count on them in politics.
"They did not depart from them" is not a new sentence in Kings. The record says it of ruler after ruler. Writing about Pekah, the king before Israel's last, one writer marks the last time it appears.
"And he did what was evil in the sight of the Lord: he did not depart from the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin." How painfully this often-repeated testimony falls on the ear! It sounds like a sad refrain. But this is the last time. Under Hoshea, Pekah's slayer and successor, God made "to cease the kingdom of the house of Israel" (Hosea 1:4).
Israel's sins carry Jeroboam's name. One writer weighs what that costs a man who leads others into sin.
One person's sin becomes far more serious when it turns into a stumbling block for others. Its consequences fall on those who drag the ignorant and the unsteady down the path of their own disobedience.
Another writer points to what Jeroboam pulled people away from.
Jeroboam stands out in the Old Testament as the great division maker. Under him the great mass of God's people, ten of the twelve tribes, broke away from God's centre at that time. Again and again, like a death knell, the Spirit marks out this man with the same sad words: "Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin."
The chapter goes on to the Assyrian captivity. History never reversed it.
The history of the ten tribes is a tale of evil with no redeeming feature. Then we come to 2 Kings 17. Under their last king, Hoshea, Shalmaneser king of Assyria came up and led the nation of Israel away captive... These tribes have never been restored.
Yet the writer who calls Israel guilty here says the story is not shut for good.
It is not finished for good. It is finished only for this people and its kings, seen as responsible. Divine compassion moves the heart of the prophet Hosea, and he announces their future restoration: "My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my burning anger... for I am God and not a man, the Holy One in your midst."
- Driven, yet walking. Jeroboam forced Israel onto the path. But they walked in his sins, so the guilt was theirs too.
- Held by convenience. The calves were a political religion. They kept the ten tribes away from Jerusalem, and dropping them meant losing the kingdom.
- Repeated to the end. "He did not depart from the sins of Jeroboam" runs like a refrain through the kings. With Pekah it sounds for the last time.
- Multiplied by influence. Sin grows far heavier when it trips up others. Its results fall on whoever led them there.
- Removed, not written off. Assyria carried Israel away, and the tribes have never returned. Yet through Hosea God announces their future restoration.
until Jehovah had removed Israel out of his sight, as he had said through all his servants the prophets; and Israel was carried away out of their own land to Assyria, unto this day.
This verse ends the story of the northern kingdom: God removes Israel from His sight, and Assyria carries them away. Two questions follow — was this only Assyrian power, or God's word arriving on time, and has God now forgotten them?
God did not act without warning. One writer sets the prophets' testimony beside Israel's answer to it:
The Lord had testified against Israel and against Judah through all the prophets. Did they listen? No. They had abandoned the commandments of the covenant and given themselves up to terrible apostasy. Verses 14 to 17 describe every side of it. In the end, in His anger, God removed them from before His face, and "none was left but the tribe of Judah only."
The exile is not left as a bare fact. God first sets out His case in detail. One writer explains why God kept that record:
God is under no obligation to explain why He does what He does. Yet in His Word He often does. As He closes the story of the ten-tribe kingdom, God gives us a detailed list of charges in 2 Kings 17:7-23, showing why He brought this kingdom to an end. He has placed it in His Word to warn us and teach us. We do well to study it. Romans 11:20-21 tells us: "Do not become proud, but fear. For if God did not spare the natural branches, neither will He spare you."
Jeroboam set the pattern, but Israel kept walking in it. The blame does not rest on the first king alone:
"Jeroboam drove Israel from following the LORD and made them commit great sin" (v. 21). But on the other hand, "the people of Israel walked" — so they were guilty themselves — "in all the sins that Jeroboam did. They did not depart from them" (v. 22). And so Assyria carried Israel away.
That sin outlived the king who introduced it:
The idolatry of Jeroboam remained with Israel until they were led into captivity, and was an outstanding cause of it.
"Removed out of His sight" is the language of a nation losing its standing before God. It does not mean God lost track of them:
In the end He removed Israel out of His sight as a nation. Yet in His all-knowing love He knows exactly where each individual is. And nothing will frustrate His purposes, which are secure in Christ.
The verse ends with "until this day." One writer measures how far that reaches:
This was a sweeping judgment of God against His people Israel, and the ten tribes have never returned to their land since that time... God has allowed this great scattering of the ten tribes. Now only a miraculous act of God at the end of the Tribulation will bring His people Israel back to their land.
Their hiding place is God's own doing, and no obstacle to what He has promised:
No one knows clearly or certainly where the ten tribes are. It does not seem to be anyone's business to search for them ahead of time. We may leave them in the obscurity that God has put them in. If we believe His word, we know this: He has kept the scattered remnant of the two tribes, and just as surely He will bring the descendants of the ten out of their hiding place... "They shall be no longer two nations, and no longer divided into two kingdoms" (Ezek. 37:22). God will fulfill every letter of the promises. Scripture cannot be broken.
- Warned. God warned Israel through all the prophets. The exile came only after Israel had ignored every warning.
- Refused. They abandoned the commandments of the covenant and gave themselves to idolatry. Scripture names the people as guilty, not only the king who first led them into it.
- Removed. The end came just as God had said. He set out His reasons in detail so that later readers would take warning: "For if God did not spare the natural branches, neither will He spare you."
- Remembered. God put Israel out of His sight as a nation. Yet He knows where every individual is, and His purposes in Christ are secure.
- Restored. "Until this day" describes a scattering that history has never undone. Yet God Himself put them in that obscurity, and every letter of His promise to gather them will stand.
And the king of Assyria brought [people] from Babylon, and from Cuthah, and from Avva, and from Hamath, and from Sepharvaim, and made them dwell in the cities of Samaria instead of the children of Israel; and they possessed Samaria, and dwelt in its cities.
Assyria did not only carry Israel away. It refilled the emptied land with foreign settlers, and they took over the cities of Samaria. Out of that move came a new people and a new religion that marked the land for centuries.
The move was political before it was religious.
The king of Assyria wanted to make sure the Israelites could never take their land back. So he brought people from other areas east of Canaan to replace them (v.24). But God was jealous for His land, and because the new settlers had no fear of God, He sent lions among them, killing some of them (v.25).
The place names are real towns on the map of the empire. Sepharvaim, for example, is one of them:
A place conquered by Assyria, and from where people were sent to colonise Samaria.
New tenants did not make the land theirs. The lions that met them were God pressing His own claim, which Israel's ruin had not cancelled.
These idolatrous nations, brought into the land of Israel, did not fear the Lord. He sent lions among them, which killed them. Despite its desolation, God was caring for the land of His inheritance. He was asserting His rights over it and would not let those rights be taken away. He would not let the land fall again under the curse He had freed it from when He destroyed the Canaanites. However great the ruin, the name of the Lord must not disappear completely from the land of Israel. God had the future in view, for the remnant, the true Israel, is to inherit the land.
The settlers knew a God stood behind the lions. They tried to fix the problem with ritual, and what came out was not a kingdom but a mixed faith.
When the Assyrians were planted in the ruined cities of Israel they set up their old Assyrian religion, and the Lord sent lions among them. They understood it. Man has a conscience. They knew it was a voice from the God of Israel. It was the God of Israel that claimed that land. No doubt they thought they could win Him over by reviving the old worship of Israel. In their folly they sent for a priest of Israel from among the captives, and so the old religion came back — a very strange mixture of the nominal worship of the LORD and real idolatry. But so it was. This was the start, not of the Samaritan kingdom, but of the Samaritan religion — a mixture of Judaism and idolatry carried on by pagans.
The teacher Assyria sent was part of the problem himself. He could only pass on what he already was.
The king of Assyria sent them one of the priests he had carried away captive, to "teach them the manner of the god of the land". But this priest had himself supported the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God. So he could teach them nothing but his own corruption... This is obvious, yet it must still be pressed home: a corrupted religion cannot lead people on in the truth. It will always shape them after its own pattern.
Generations later, the descendants of these settlers offered to help rebuild the temple. Their own words gave them away.
They say, "We do sacrifice to Him" — that is, to God — "since the days of Esarhaddon king of Assyria, who brought us up here." In this way they revealed their true origin. By their own confession they were not the children of Abraham but Assyrians. So they had no claim to belong to the children of Israel. These were, in fact, the fathers of the Samaritans (see 2 Kings 17:24-41)... We may learn for ourselves from this incident the source of one of the gravest dangers in the work of the Lord. The kisses of an enemy are both deceitful and dangerous, though it seems so ungracious to refuse the offered help of professed friends.
The story does not end in contempt. The half-light left in Samaria became the place where Jesus chose to sit down and talk.
People in the Lord's day were right to see the Samaritans as a corrupt race. The beginning of their history is recorded in 2 Kings 17:24-41... In the end they became a corrupt people who "feared the LORD, and served their own gods". So they had some dim knowledge of the Lord, and they knew the Messiah was coming.
- Replaced — Assyria moved settlers in so that Israel's exile would be permanent. One royal decision changed who lived in the land.
- Claimed — the lions showed that the land was still the Lord's inheritance. He kept it for a future remnant, whoever lived in the cities.
- Mixed — the settlers wanted the ritual, not the God. The result was the Samaritan religion: nominal worship of the LORD blended with real idolatry.
- Shaped — a corrupt teacher could pass on only his own corruption. A corrupted religion always shapes people after its own pattern.
- Known — the same mixed people later offered help that was really a danger, yet they still knew that the Messiah was coming.
And so it was, at the beginning of their dwelling there, that they feared not Jehovah; and Jehovah sent lions among them, which killed [some] of them.
Assyria had just emptied the northern kingdom and moved in settlers from other nations. They arrived in a land God still called His own. They gave Him no place — and found out He had not moved out.
The lions were not an accident of nature. God was claiming ownership of a land Assyria had just emptied of its people.
These idolatrous nations, brought into the land of Israel, did not fear the Lord. He sent lions among them, which killed them. Though the land lay desolate, God was caring for the land of His inheritance. He was asserting His rights over it, and would not let them be taken away. He would not have the land fall again under the curse He had freed it from when He destroyed the Canaanites. Whatever the ruin, the name of the Lord must not be wiped out of the land of Israel. And this was with the future in view, for the remnant, the true Israel, is to inherit the land.
The lions point two ways at once. Back to the Canaanites, whom God destroyed to free the land from its curse. Forward to the day the true Israel inherits it.
The settlers knew nothing about Israel's God. Yet they linked the attacks with the God of the land they had moved into. Commentators read their reaction in two ways. One credits them with conscience:
When the Assyrians were planted in the ruined cities of Israel they set up their old Assyrian religion, and the Lord sent lions among them. They understood it. Man has a conscience. They knew it was a voice from the God of Israel. It was the God of Israel who claimed that land.
The other reading says what moved them was fear of the unknown, not any real turning toward God:
When foreigners replaced Israel in their land, the Lord allowed lions to attack and kill some of them. They assumed this happened because they did not know the character of "the god of the land." Their fears were not moved by conscience toward God, but by superstition. All they needed, they considered, was to know the rituals of the religion of Israel.
Either way, what they went looking for next was a ritual, not God Himself.
Their fix was to bring in an expert. Assyria's king sent back a captured priest of Israel — but the priest was part of the corruption himself.
The king of Assyria sent them one of the priests who had been taken away captive, to "teach them the manner of the god of the land." But this priest had himself supported the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God. So he could teach them nothing but his own corruption... A corrupted religion cannot lead people on in the truth. It will always shape them after its own pattern. Obvious as that is, it still has to be pressed home.
The priest came, and something lasting grew out of the mixture:
And so the old religion came back — a very strange mixture of worship of the LORD in name and real idolatry. This is how the Samaritan religion began. Not the Samaritan kingdom, but the Samaritan religion — Judaism and idolatry mixed together and carried on by foreign settlers.
Their failure has one name: they did not fear the LORD. That is exactly what God had demanded of Israel all through the chapter.
Notice how this whole passage sets the fear of the Lord, this beginning of wisdom, before the conscience of the people, and of the nations too. God told Israel not to fear other gods, but to fear Him alone and worship Him alone. In this short passage the expression "fear the LORD" occurs eleven times! Everything else depended on this basic command, and still depends on it!
God got their attention, then left them to answer for themselves. The writer ends with an uncomfortable question.
As for these nations, the Lord made them feel His displeasure through the attack of the lions, and so pressed on them that they should turn to Him. Then He dealt with them on the same principle He had used with His own people: He left them to their own responsibility. They paid no more attention to it than Israel had. But which of these two groups was the more guilty?
The pattern outlived them:
On the surface they feared the Lord, but they contradicted that fear by appointing priests of the high places "for themselves"... Today we see the same evil all around us. People claim to respect God, but their works flatly contradict His Word.
- Land — The lions showed God still claiming the land. He had cleared it of the Canaanites, and He will give it to the true Israel.
- Warning — The attack told them a real God claimed that ground. Commentators differ on what answered it: conscience, or superstition.
- Teacher — A corrupt teacher only passes on his own corruption. He can never lead anyone into the truth.
- Mixture — What grew there was a religion of two layers: the Lord in name, their own gods in practice.
- Test — Everything hung, and still hangs, on the one thing they lacked: the fear of the Lord.
And they spoke to the king of Assyria saying, The nations that thou hast removed and made to dwell in the cities of Samaria know not the manner of the god of the land; therefore he has sent lions among them, and behold, they slay them, because they know not the manner of the god of the land.
Assyria carried Israel away, and the king moved settlers from other nations into the empty cities of Samaria. Lions began to kill them, and the report to the king gave a reason: these settlers do not know the law of the god of the land — older translations call it "the manner".
The settlers had moved into a country that looked abandoned. One writer sees in the lions God refusing to give up His claim to it.
These idol-worshipping nations were brought into the land of Israel, and they did not fear the Lord. He sent lions among them, and the lions killed them. The land lay in ruins, yet God was still caring for the land He had chosen as His own. He was claiming His rights over it, and He would not let anyone take them away. He had wiped out the Canaanites and freed the land from its curse, and He would not let it fall under that curse again. However great the ruin, the name of the Lord must not be wiped out of the land of Israel. God had the future in view, for the remnant, the true Israel, is to inherit the land.
The settlers did not treat the lions as bad luck. They traced the attacks to a God they had offended. One writer draws from that a point about every human being.
When the Assyrians settled in the ruined cities of Israel, they set up their old Assyrian religion, and the Lord sent lions among them. They understood it. People have a conscience. They understood it; they knew it was a voice from the God of Israel. It was the God of Israel who claimed that land.
Another writer measures them against Israel itself.
The lions cut them down. These poor, ignorant pagans thought the God of Israel was just like their own false gods, yet they understood this judgment. They were more intelligent than the Lord's people (v. 26).
Commentators differ on how much credit that reaction deserves. One sees conscience at work. Another sees only a hunt for the right ritual.
Their fear did not come from conscience toward God. It came from superstition. All they thought they needed was to know the rituals of the religion of Israel (v. 26).
The king's answer was to send back one of the captured priests of Samaria. But what could such a teacher pass on?
The king of Assyria sent them one of the priests who had been carried away captive, to "teach them the manner of the god of the land." But this priest had himself backed the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God. So he could teach them nothing but his own corruption… A corrupted religion cannot lead people on in the truth. It will always shape them after its own pattern. The fact is obvious, and it still must be pressed home.
The episode did not end in conversion. One reference work traces the Samaritans and their mixed worship back to it.
This is the only place in the Old Testament where the Samaritans are mentioned, and it gives their origin and the mixed character of their worship. The king of Assyria had filled the cities with settlers from the East. They were now in the Lord's land, but they did not fear Him, so He sent lions among them… The result was that they feared the Lord, and served their own gods!
The settlers asked about a manner, a method, a set of practices. The chapter itself keeps repeating one phrase, pressed on Israel and on the newcomers alike.
Notice all through this passage how the fear of the Lord, the beginning of wisdom, was set before the conscience of the people (vv. 35-40), and before the nations too. The Lord had said to Israel: "You shall not fear other gods" (vv. 35, 37, 38), "the Lord alone … Him shall you fear, and Him shall you worship" (v. 36)… In this short passage the words "fear the Lord" come eleven times! Everything else depended on this basic command, and still depends on it!
- Claim. The lions showed the land was not free for the taking. God was still claiming His rights over it, with the future remnant in view.
- Conscience. The settlers read the lions as a voice from the God of Israel. Commentators differ on whether that was conscience or only superstition.
- Cure. They asked for a method, not for mercy. The king sent them a priest whose own religion was corrupt, and a corrupted religion shapes people after its own pattern.
- Consequence. They feared the Lord and served their own gods at the same time. That mixture is where the Samaritans came from.
- Core. Eleven times this chapter says to fear the Lord. Everything else, then and now, depends on that one thing.
And the king of Assyria commanded saying, Carry thither one of the priests whom ye have brought away from thence; and let them go and abide there, and let him teach them the manner of the god of the land.
Assyria has just carried the ten tribes away, and the king has filled Samaria with settlers from Babylon, Cuthah and other cities. Lions start killing them, the settlers decide they have offended "the god of the land," and the king answers with this order: send back one captured Israelite priest to teach them.
The lions were no accident. Rossier sees God guarding His own claim to a land emptied of His people.
These idolatrous nations, brought into the land of Israel, did not fear the Lord. He sent lions among them, and the lions killed them. The land lay desolate, yet God was still caring for the land of His inheritance. He was asserting His rights over it, and He would not let anyone take those rights away. He would not let the land fall again under the curse He had lifted from it when He destroyed the Canaanites. However great the ruin, the name of the Lord was not to be wiped out of the land of Israel. God had the future in view: the remnant, the true Israel, is to inherit the land.
Notice what the request is, and what it is not. Nobody asks to know God. They ask for the procedure that will stop the lions — and the king, with no better instinct, supplies a specialist.
Their fears were not moved by conscience toward God, but by superstition. All they needed, they considered, was to know the rituals of the religion of Israel (v.26). The king of Assyria knew no better, so he commanded that a priest from Israel should go back to the land to teach the people the rituals of the god of the land (v.27). How could this be when they had no centre such as God had decreed? — the centre being symbolical of Christ, the only way of approach to God.
Commentators differ on how much these settlers grasped. Rossier credits them with reading the judgment rightly:
These poor ignorant pagans likened the God of Israel to their own false gods, yet they understood this judgment. They were more intelligent than the Lord's people.
The priest chosen was one of those deported from the northern kingdom — a kingdom whose worship had been built by Jeroboam around two golden calves. Where he settled says everything.
The priest who was sent back from Assyria to teach religious rites to the settlers made his home in Bethel. That was where Jeroboam had set up the idolatrous worship which had dragged Israel down. The priest produced a new religion, partly Israelite and partly heathen, like the mixed crowd of peoples living in the land.
A man can only hand on what he holds. Rossier draws out the rule behind it:
This priest himself had supported the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God. So he could teach them nothing but his own corruption… A corrupted religion cannot lead people on in the truth. It will always mould them to its own pattern. The fact is obvious, yet it must be pressed home… Do not forget that the fear of the Lord cannot be joined with the idolatry of the world. To fear Him is to obey Him. God does not tolerate mixtures.
So two religions ran side by side in one land. The settlers gave up nothing.
The history of what followed the arrival of foreign nations shows the strange confusion in Israel. It is one of the former priests of Jeroboam's system who comes to instruct them in the fear of Jehovah. Together with this they worship their own gods. The result is a medley, hateful to the Lord. Despite their unfaithfulness, Jehovah kept His sovereign rights over the people. In the same way we find Him defending His claim to the land after the people were driven out. He holds these rights for ever.
The effects of this one order lasted for centuries.
The Samaritans of the Lord's day were rightly seen as a corrupt race. Their history starts here. They lived in the land of Jehovah and still did not fear the LORD, so the LORD troubled them. To deal with this trouble, the Assyrian king sent a priest of Jehovah to teach them the ways of Jehovah. The result was a corrupt people who "feared the LORD, and served their own gods". So they had some dim knowledge of the Lord, and knew that the Messiah was coming.
- Claim. God sent the lions to assert His rights over land He still owned, even with His people gone.
- Demand. The settlers wanted rituals to stop the danger, not the God who sent it. Their fear came from superstition, not conscience.
- Supply. The teacher was a priest of Jeroboam's system who made his home in Bethel. He could pass on nothing but his own corruption.
- Mould. A corrupted religion never lifts people into truth. It moulds them to its own pattern, and here it produced a medley hateful to the Lord. God does not tolerate mixtures.
- Legacy. From this decree came the Samaritans. They had a dim knowledge of the Lord, feared Him, and served their own gods at the same time.
Then one of the priests whom they had carried away from Samaria came and abode in Bethel, and taught them how they should fear Jehovah.
Assyria had emptied Israel of its people and refilled the land with settlers who did not fear the LORD, so God sent lions among them. Verse 28 is the king's remedy: send back one of the deported priests to teach the newcomers the religion of the land — but can teaching alone produce the fear of God?
The priest sent back was no faithful teacher. He came from a system that had already mixed the worship of the true God with idolatry. A man can only pass on what he himself holds.
The king of Assyria sent them one of the priests who had been carried away captive, to "teach them the law of the god of the land." But this priest had himself supported the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God. So he could teach them nothing but his own corruption... A corrupted religion cannot lead people on in the truth. This is obvious, yet it must be stressed: such a religion will always shape people after its own pattern.
Of all the towns he could have chosen, he settled at Bethel. The place itself tells you what the teaching would be.
The priest who was sent back from Assyria to teach religious rites to the settlers made his home in Bethel. That was where Jeroboam had set up the idol worship which had dragged Israel down. The priest produced a new religion, part Israelite and part pagan, like the mixed crowd of people living in the land.
The settlers had asked only for the correct procedure. They wanted to know what would stop the lions, not who God was.
When foreigners replaced Israel in their land, the Lord allowed lions to attack and kill some of them... Their fears were not stirred by conscience toward God, but by superstition. All they thought they needed was to know the rituals of the religion of Israel. The king of Assyria knew no better, so he told a priest from Israel to go back and teach the people the rituals of the god of the land. How could that work when they had no centre such as God had decreed? The centre stood for Christ, the only way of approach to God. But unbelief is closed to Him, and the priest himself knew little of God... This priest taught the people how they should fear the LORD, but his teaching fell far short.
The lessons worked, after a fashion. The settlers added the God of the land to the gods they already had, and each nation kept its own shrines alongside.
Dwelling in the land of the LORD, and yet not fearing Him, they were troubled by Him. In attempting to meet this trouble, the Assyrian king sent a priest of the LORD to teach them His ways. The result was that they became a corrupt people who "feared the LORD, and served their own gods". So they had some dim knowledge of the Lord, and of the fact that the Messiah was coming.
The mixture that followed is described bluntly, and set against the fact that God had not surrendered His claim on the country:
It is one of the former priests of Jeroboam's system who comes to teach them the fear of the LORD. Alongside this they worship their own gods. The result is a mixture, hateful to the Lord. Despite their unfaithfulness, the LORD kept His sovereign rights over the people. In the same way, after the people were driven out, He also asserts His claim to the land. He holds these rights for ever.
Later the Jews came back from exile to rebuild. These settlers then offered to help.
Satan is subtle in the way he attacks a work of God. He looks friendly. You can see it when the enemies of Judah and Benjamin came to Zerubbabel and the other leaders of Judah and offered to help them build the temple. They said the King of Assyria had brought them there (which was true), and that they had sacrificed to the Lord ever since. There may be some appearance of truth in this. But they were Gentiles who had come into the land and taken up some of Israel's forms of worship.
The chapter does not leave the matter with the settlers. It turns back and presses the same word on Israel itself, over and over.
Notice how, all through this passage, the fear of the LORD — the beginning of wisdom — is pressed on the conscience of the people, and of the nations too. The LORD had said to Israel: "You shall not fear other gods"... "the LORD alone... Him you shall fear, and Him you shall worship". In this short passage the words "fear the LORD" appear eleven times! Everything else depended on this basic command, and still depends on it.
- Teacher — The man sent to teach came from a system already corrupt. He could only pass on what he carried himself.
- Place — He settled at Bethel, where Jeroboam's idol worship began. The result was a religion part Israelite, part pagan.
- Lack — The settlers wanted rituals, not God. Without the centre God had appointed, the teaching fell short.
- Mixture — They learned to fear the LORD and kept serving their own gods. God hated the mixture, and it still tried to share in His work generations later.
- Root — Eleven times this chapter says "fear the LORD". Everything depended on that one thing, and still does.
And every nation made gods of their own, and put them in the houses of the high places that the Samaritans had made, every nation in their cities in which they dwelt.
Assyria emptied the northern kingdom and moved foreign settlers into its cities. Each group brought its own gods, filled the shrines Israel had left behind, and a new religion took shape.
The verse describes a land of competing altars. One commentator counts them off:
The people from these other nations settled in the land and brought their own religion with them. They made idols and placed them in shrines in high places that the Samaritans had built earlier. Samaria became something like the United States at that time, a home for contradictory religions of every kind. The Babylonians had their idol, the men of Cuth another, the men of Hamath another, and the Avvites two more. The Sepharvites burned their children as sacrifices to two gods of Sepharvaim (vv. 29-31).
The shrines were not new. The newcomers simply took over what Israel had left behind.
This verse marks the birth of a lasting system. It mixed two religions and kept both.
What took their place — what formed the kingdom of Samaria — was just a mass of pagans who took up the forms Israel had left behind... No doubt they thought they could win His favour by reviving the old worship of Israel. In their folly they sent for a priest of Israel from the captivity, and so the old religion came back in — a very strange mixture of worshipping the LORD in name only and real idolatry. But so it was. So began, not the Samaritan kingdom, but the Samaritan religion — the mixture of Judaism and idolatry carried on by pagans.
The man sent to teach them was himself part of the problem.
The king of Assyria sent them one of the captive priests to "teach them the manner of the god of the land." But this priest had himself supported the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God. So he could teach them nothing but his own corruption. On one side they learned "how they should fear the LORD." On the other, "every nation still made gods of its own and put them in the shrines of the high places that the Samaritans had made" (v. 29). A corrupted religion cannot lead men on in the truth. It will always shape them after its own pattern. The fact is obvious, but it still has to be said.
Lions had come into the land as well. The same writer reads that judgment as God refusing to give up His territory, even with His people gone:
These idolatrous nations, brought into the land of Israel, did not fear the LORD. He sent lions among them, which killed them. Despite its desolation, God was caring for the land of His inheritance. He was asserting His rights over it and would not let anyone take them away... However great the ruin, the name of the LORD must not vanish completely from the land of Israel. This was with the future in view, for the remnant, the true Israel, is to inherit the land.
The land was crowded with gods, but its Owner never abandoned it.
Verse 29 sits inside a section where one phrase keeps returning: "fear the LORD."
Notice in this whole passage how God pressed the fear of the LORD, that beginning of wisdom, on the conscience of the people (vv. 35-40) and of the nations too... In this short passage the expression "fear the LORD" occurs eleven times! Everything else depended on this basic command, and still depends on it.
One commentator brings the same contradiction into the present:
On the surface they feared the Lord (v. 32), but they contradicted that fear by appointing "for themselves" priests of the high places... Today the same evil is all around us. People claim to respect God, but their works contradict His Word outright, and they often adopt the rituals of foreign nations.
Centuries later Jesus spoke with a Samaritan about worship. One commentator sums up what the mixture had come to:
The Samaritans worshipped what they did not know. The Jews knew what they worshipped — "for salvation," as He added, "is of the Jews."... The Samaritans were mere imitators. They were Gentiles, jealous of Israel and hostile to them, with no fear of God. Otherwise they would have submitted to His ways and His Word.
- Vacancy. The high places Israel left behind did not stay empty. Every nation that moved in filled them with its own gods.
- Teacher. The priest sent to teach the fear of the LORD was corrupt himself. A corrupted religion can only reproduce its own pattern.
- Owner. Lions in the land showed God still claiming His inheritance. He kept His name there with a future remnant in view.
- Test. "Fear the LORD" rings through this passage eleven times. Everything else rests on it. Respect that keeps its own altars is not it.
- Legacy. From this verse came the Samaritan religion — a mixture Jesus later described as worship of what they did not know.
And the people of Babylon made Succoth-benoth, and the people of Cuth made Nergal, and the people of Hamath made Ashima,
Assyria has carried off the northern kingdom. Its king has refilled the empty towns with settlers from Babylon, Cuthah, Hamath and other conquered cities. Each group brought its own god. So what happens when people settle in God's land and keep their own religion?
The people named here are the ancestors of the Samaritans. One writer traces that story back to this passage:
People in the Lord's day rightly saw the Samaritans as a corrupt race. Their history begins in 2 Kings 17:24-41. After Assyria took the ten tribes captive, its king repopulated the land with men from Babylon and other pagan cities. They lived in the LORD's land and yet did not fear Him, and He troubled them.
Each group named in the verse set up its own idol, and the nearby verses add more:
So the people from these other nations settled in the land. They brought their own religion with them and made idols. They placed them in shrines on the high places which the Samaritans had set up earlier. Samaria became a home for every kind of contradictory religion, something like the United States at that time. The Babylonians had their idol, the men of Cuth another, the men of Hamath another, the Avvites two more. The Sepharvites burned their children as sacrifices to two gods of Sepharvaim.
Cuthah, one of the cities named here, was a real place. Its site is still argued over:
One of the places from which the king of Assyria brought colonists into Palestine. The location of Cuthah is not known for certain. Josephus places it in the interior of Persia; others in Babylonia.
The god the men of Cuth set up also appears on ancient monuments:
An Assyrian and Babylonian god. It has many titles on the monuments, such as "the god of the chase," "the king of battle," and so on.
Lions had already killed some of the settlers before these idols went up. That judgment was not random:
These idolatrous nations, brought into the land of Israel, did not fear the Lord. He sent lions among them, which killed them. Despite its desolation, God was caring for the land of His inheritance. He was asserting His rights over it and would not let anyone take them away. He would not have the land fall again under the curse from which He had delivered it when He destroyed the Canaanites. However great the ruin, the name of the Lord must not be entirely removed from the land of Israel. God had the future in view, for the remnant, the true Israel, is to inherit the land.
The Assyrian king's answer was to send back a captured priest. It failed, and the reason matters:
The king of Assyria sent them one of the priests he had carried away captive, to "teach them the law of the god of the land." But this priest had himself supported the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God. So he could teach them nothing but his own corruption. On the one hand they learned "how they should fear the LORD." On the other hand, "every nation still made gods of its own and put them in the shrines of the high places that the Samaritans had made." A corrupted religion — and we must press this obvious fact — cannot lead people on in the truth. It will always shape them after its own pattern.
Later in the chapter the text says they feared the LORD, then says they did not:
Verse 34 puts the whole matter in true perspective. Verse 33 says "they feared the LORD." But verse 34 says they went on following their former rituals: "they do not fear the LORD." Their claim in verse 33 was false and empty.
One writer sees the same blend far beyond Samaria:
This mixture could not be called pure idolatry. It makes us think of the blend called Christendom, in whatever form it appears. It runs from Roman and Greek worship of Mary to the far more subtle forms of Protestant Christendom. There people join the worship of the true God to the moral darkness of the world, and profession has no connection with what ought to mark the people of God.
- Mixture begins — settlers moved into God's land and kept their own gods. Samaria held every kind of contradictory religion at once.
- Mixture spreads — the priest sent to teach them was corrupt himself. A corrupted religion shapes people after its own pattern instead of leading them to truth.
- Mixture is exposed — the text says they feared the LORD, then a verse later says they did not. Their claim was false and empty.
- Mixture cannot dislodge God — the land lay desolate and overrun, yet He asserted His rights over it. He keeps it for the true Israel, who will yet inherit it.
- Mixture still tempts — the same blend appears wherever people join the worship of the true God to the world. Profession then has no connection with what should mark God's people.
and the Avvites made Nibhaz and Tartak, and the Sepharvites burned their children in the fire to Adrammelech and Anammelech the gods of Sepharvaim.
Assyria emptied Samaria of Israel and refilled the land with settlers from five foreign cities. This verse names the gods they brought in, and two of those gods demanded children. Why did God let such worship stand in His own land?
The Avvites brought in two gods. Of one, little more than a name and a meaning survives:
A god of the Avite colonists in Samaria. 2 Kings 17:31. The word is supposed to mean "darkness," or the under-world.
The god who received those children carried the character of a destroyer:
The god of the Sepharvites, to whom they burnt their children, placed in one of the houses of the high places among the Samaritans. 2 Kings 17:31. A sort of Adar-Mars, that is, a sun-god, who was regarded as a destroying being.
The verse is one line in a longer list. Each group of settlers kept its own imported god and housed it in shrines the previous inhabitants had built:
The people from these other nations who settled in the land brought their own religion with them. They made idols and placed them in shrines in high places which the Samaritans had built earlier. So Samaria became something like the United States at that time, a home for every kind of contradictory religion. The Babylonians had their idol, the men of Cuth another, the men of Hamath another, and the Avvites two more. The Sepharvites burned their children as sacrifices to two gods of Sepharvaim.
The pull behind such worship did not come from the carved images:
The secret of all the abominations in idolatry is that Satan is the great mover of it. Israel heard that they were no more to offer sacrifices to demons. Leviticus 17:7. They "sacrificed their sons and their daughters to the demons." Psalm 106:37. They made their children pass through the fire to Molech, 2 Kings 23:10.
That power shows itself by overriding the deepest natural feelings a person has:
Idolatry cannot instil the love of what is pure and lovely and of good report. On the contrary, it produces and strengthens the feelings and attitudes of all that is hateful and impure. And as we know in many cases, it has crushed the strongest instincts of nature, for parents have burnt their own children in honour of an idol.
The settlers did get instruction in Israel's God. It came through the wrong man:
The king of Assyria sent them one of the priests who had been carried away captive, to teach them the way of the god of the land. But this priest himself had supported the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God. So he could teach them nothing but his own corruption. On one hand they learned "how they should fear the LORD." On the other, "every nation still made gods of its own and put them in the shrines of the high places that the Samaritans had made" (v. 29). A corrupted religion cannot lead people on in the truth. It will always shape them after its own pattern. This is obvious, yet it still needs saying.
God had already answered these settlers with lions. That judgment guarded His claim on the land:
These idolatrous nations, brought into the land of Israel, did not fear the Lord. He sent lions among them, which killed them. Despite its desolation, God was caring for the land of His inheritance. He was asserting His rights over it and would not let anyone take them away. He would not have the land fall again under the curse from which He had delivered it when He destroyed the Canaanites.
Later these newcomers looked for fellowship with God's people:
It was useless for these foreigners to seek fellowship. "So they feared the LORD but also served their own gods, after the manner of the nations from among whom they had been carried away." They professed to fear the LORD, yet "they served their carved images. Their children did likewise, and their children's children — as their fathers did, so they do to this day" (2 Kings 17:33, 41). The true God could not agree to a partnership with false objects of worship, and behind those objects were demons.
- Mixture begins — settlers brought Nibhaz, Tartak, Adrammelech and Anammelech into shrines already standing in the land. One small country now held every kind of contradictory religion.
- Mixture is driven — Satan is the mover behind such worship. Scripture calls these offerings what they are: sacrifices to demons.
- Mixture costs — it crushes the strongest natural instincts. Here parents burned their own children in honour of an idol.
- Mixture spreads — a corrupted teacher passes on his own corruption. A corrupted religion never leads people into truth; it reshapes them after itself.
- Mixture is refused — God kept His claim on the land by sending lions. He would never share His worship with other gods.
So they feared Jehovah, and made to themselves from all classes of them priests of the high places, who offered [sacrifices] for them in the houses of the high places.
Assyria had carried Israel away and settled foreigners in the empty land. These newcomers began to honour the God of the land, yet they kept every god they had brought with them. Verse 32 is the turning point. Their fear of the LORD was strong enough to set up priests. But they chose those priests themselves, for shrines God never picked.
The settlers did not invent this arrangement. One commentator sees it as a copy of what King Jeroboam had already done with the priesthood, and the copy went further than the original.
Had not Jeroboam done the same thing about the priesthood? What they learned from the priest of Samaria led them down that same path. They only go a little further: the priests they appoint, following the pattern set by Jeroboam, became nothing more than priests of their idols.
A priest was teaching these settlers. What he had to give explains what they built.
This priest himself had supported the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God, so he could teach them nothing but his own corruption... A corrupted religion cannot lead people on in the truth. It will always shape them according to its own pattern. The fact is obvious, but it still needs to be pressed home.
The teacher was not the only problem. There was no centre of the kind God had decreed:
How could this work when they had no centre such as God had decreed? That centre was a picture of Christ, the only way of approach to God. But unbelief is closed to Him. The priest himself knew little of God, for he had been linked with the idolatry of Jeroboam. Long before this, all Israel had left God's centre — Jerusalem — to set up a religion with two golden calves as its symbol.
Verse 32 says the priests came from "all sorts of people." One commentator sets that beside God's own rule for priests, and then applies the test to today.
On the surface they feared the Lord (v.32), but they contradicted that fear by appointing priests of the high places "for themselves." They liked to copy the fact that God appoints priests. But God appointed only the sons of Aaron, and they were priests of God at God's temple, not at the high places. Today we see the same evil all around us. People claim to respect God, but their works flatly contradict His Word. They often adopt the rituals of foreign nations.
Two verses later the chapter says the opposite of what verse 32 seems to allow.
Verse 33 says, "they feared the Lord." Yet verse 34 says they kept following their former rituals: "they do not fear the Lord." Their claim in verse 33 was false and empty. They did not really fear the Lord, nor did they follow the statutes and ordinances of the Lord.
The closing section of the chapter hammers a single demand, and the repetition is the point.
Notice how this whole passage sets the fear of the Lord, the beginning of wisdom, before the conscience of the people (vv. 35-40) and of the nations too... In this short passage the phrase "fear the LORD" occurs eleven times! Everything else depended on this basic command, and still depends on it!
Could people with a mixed religion ever be joined to God's people? One writer answers no, and gives the reason.
The true God could never agree to a partnership with false objects of worship, and behind those objects were demons. Nor would Judah and Benjamin, however weak a remnant they were, give up their special honour as His chosen... People who do not know or do not believe may call faith in His word, and the bond between Him and His own, narrow and arrogant and unkind. But those who value the truth feel rightly that relationship with Him must be exclusive.
- Source — A compromised teacher could only pass on his own corruption. A corrupted religion cannot lead anyone into truth. It shapes people to its own pattern.
- Substitute — They had no God-given centre. So they copied the outward fact of priesthood, and ignored whom God had appointed and where.
- Self — The fatal word is "for themselves": worship they chose, priests they installed, shrines they kept.
- Sentence — The chapter takes the words back. Verse 34 says they did not fear the LORD, so the earlier claim was empty.
- Standard — "Fear the LORD" appears eleven times in these closing verses. Everything depended on that one thing then. God still refuses any partnership with false objects of worship.
They feared Jehovah, and served their own gods after the manner of the nations, whence they had been carried away.
Assyria carried Israel away and settled people from other nations in the empty land. They brought their own gods with them. This verse shows what came of it: an outward fear of the LORD laid over the customs they brought with them. Does worship like that count for anything with God?
The settlers were not Israelites at all. Commentators trace the origin of the Samaritans to this moment. A foreign people moved into a land that still belonged to God. They felt His hand against them, and tried to fix the problem with religion.
What took their place — what formed the kingdom of Samaria — was nothing but a mass of pagans. They took up the forms of Israel left behind, because God visited the land in a remarkable way. When the Assyrians were settled in the ruined cities of Israel, they set up their old Assyrian religion. Then the Lord sent lions among them. They understood it. Man has a conscience... No doubt they thought to win Him over by reviving the old worship of Israel. In their folly they sent for a priest of Israel from the captivity, and so the old religion came back in — a most strange mixture of nominal worship of the LORD and real idolatry. But so it was. So began not the Samaritan kingdom but the Samaritan religion: Judaism and idolatry blended together and carried on by pagans.
The settlers did get a teacher. But the priest sent to instruct them carried the very fault he was meant to cure.
The king of Assyria sent them one of the priests taken away captive, to "teach them the manner of the god of the land." But this priest had himself supported the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God. So he could teach them nothing but his own corruption... A corrupted religion cannot lead men on in the truth. It will always shape them after its own pattern. The point is obvious, yet it needs strong emphasis.
The chapter itself takes back the word "feared." The next verse holds their worship up against God's commands and finds nothing there.
Verse 34 puts the whole matter in a true perspective. Verse 33 says, "they feared the LORD." Yet verse 34 says they kept following their former rituals: "they do not fear the LORD." Their claim in verse 33 was false and empty. They did not truly fear the LORD. They did not follow the statutes and ordinances of the LORD, or the law and commandment He had given to the children of Jacob, also named Israel. God had made a covenant with them, charging them, "You shall not fear other gods, nor bow down to them nor serve them nor sacrifice to them" (v.35).
So how do you tell real fear of God from the look of it?
Those who appear to fear Him do not truly fear Him if they do not obey Him, for to fear Him is to obey Him. God does not tolerate mixtures.
The closing verses of the chapter are not vague. They repeat one demand again and again, and everything else rests on it.
Notice how this whole passage sets the fear of the Lord, this beginning of wisdom, before the conscience of the people (vv. 35-40), and of the nations too. The Lord had said to Israel: "You shall not fear other gods" (vv. 35, 37, 38). "The LORD alone… him shall you fear, and him shall you worship" (v. 36). "But you shall fear the LORD your God, and he shall deliver you out of the hand of all your enemies" (v. 39). In this short passage the expression "fear the LORD" occurs eleven times! Everything else depended on this basic command and still depends on it.
Why can God not accept a share of their worship? The answer lies in what stands behind those other gods.
It was impossible that the true God could consent to a partnership with false objects of worship, with demons behind them... People who are ignorant or unbelieving may brand faith in His word, and the bond between Him and His own, as narrow and arrogant and unloving. But those who value the truth feel, and rightly, that a relationship with Him must be exclusive... He never did and never will consent to merge into one those who are His and those who are not.
The same mixture did not die with Samaria. One writer holds this verse up to Christians who want the Lord and something else as well.
Think, dear reader, what honour you can place on your Lord by such a testimony. For most professing Christians today it is the Lord and some form of the world, something added to Himself. It is a mongrel Samaritan worship of the Lord and their own gods (2 Ki. 17:33). It is a shameful admission that the Lord is not enough to satisfy, a love of pleasure more than a love of God.
- Origin. Foreign settlers took the place of exiled Israel. Lions taught them whose land it was, so they answered with religion.
- Teacher. Their teacher came out of the corruption himself, so corruption was all he could pass on.
- Pretence. Verse 34 cancels verse 33: a fear that keeps the old rituals is no fear at all. To fear God is to obey Him.
- Demand. Eleven times in this short passage God calls for fear of Him alone. Everything else rests on that one command.
- Today. The Lord plus something else is Samaritan worship in modern dress, and it confesses that He is not enough.
To this day they do after their former customs they fear not Jehovah, neither do they after their statutes or after their ordinances, nor after the law and commandment that Jehovah commanded the sons of Jacob, whom he named Israel.
After Assyria carried Israel away, foreign settlers filled Samaria and mixed their own gods with the worship of the LORD. This verse is God's verdict on that mixture: whatever they said about Him, He did not call it fear of Him.
The chapter says twice that these people feared the LORD, then denies it. Verse 34 settles which statement is true:
Verse 34 puts the whole matter in a true perspective. Verse 33 says, "they feared the Lord." Yet verse 34 says they kept following their former rituals: "they do not fear the Lord." Their claim of verse 33 was false and empty... With them God had made a covenant, charging them, "You shall not fear other gods or bow yourselves to them or serve them or sacrifice to them" (v. 35). But now Samaria had become totally corrupted by this false worship of various descriptions.
The settlers were not left without a teacher. But the priest sent to them had shared in the corruption himself:
The king of Assyria sent them one of the priests who had been carried away captive, to "teach them the manner of the god of the land." But this priest himself had supported the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God. So he could teach them nothing but his own corruption... A corrupted religion cannot lead people on in the truth. It will always shape them after its own pattern. This is obvious, yet it must still be pressed home.
The verse denies these people the fear of the LORD. The verses that follow return to that one demand again and again:
Notice how this whole passage sets the fear of the Lord, this beginning of wisdom, before the conscience of the people (vv. 35-40), and of the nations too. The Lord had said to Israel: "You shall not fear other gods" (vv. 35, 37, 38). He said, "the LORD alone … Him shall you fear, and Him shall you worship" (v. 36). He also said, "but you shall fear the LORD your God, and He shall deliver you out of the hand of all your enemies" (v. 39). In this short passage the expression "fear the LORD" occurs eleven times! All else depended upon this elementary ordinance and still depends on it!
The verse traces the commandment back to "the children of Jacob, whom he named Israel." God Himself gave that second name, and the two names mean opposite things:
First the Lord makes Jacob own up to the name he was born with. But Jacob ("the supplanter") must have his name changed if he is to receive proper blessing from God. Only when the flesh is touched and shriveled does Jacob receive the name Israel ("a prince with God"). By nature he was Jacob, but by the grace of God he becomes Israel.
Israel was gone and the land was full of foreigners, yet God had not surrendered His rights to either. The deportation changed the residents, not the ownership:
The history of what followed the arrival of foreign nations shows the strange confusion in Israel... Despite their unfaithfulness, the LORD kept His sovereign rights over the people. In the same way, we find Him defending His claim to the land after the people were driven out. He maintains these rights for ever.
The same fault did not stop with Samaria. One writer links the priests of verse 32 with what he sees now:
On the surface they feared the Lord (v. 32). But they contradicted that fear by appointing priests of the high places "for themselves"... Today the same evil is seen all around us. People claim to respect God, but their works contradict His Word outright. They often take up the rituals of foreign nations.
This chapter is the beginning of the Samaritans, the people the Lord later met at the well. Their religion stayed shallow, but some light survived in it:
In the Lord's day people rightly saw the Samaritans as a corrupt race. Their history begins in 2 Kings 17:24-41... In the end they became a corrupt people who "feared the LORD, and served their own gods." So they had some dim knowledge of the Lord, and some dim knowledge that the Messiah was coming.
- Verdict. God's verdict overrules appearances. The people who claimed to fear the LORD did not fear Him at all.
- Cause. Their teacher was corrupt himself, and corrupt religion only shapes people after its own pattern.
- Test. These verses repeat the fear of the LORD eleven times. Everything else depended on it, and still does.
- Name. The commandment came to "the children of Jacob, whom he named Israel." God gave that name by grace; the man's natural name meant supplanter.
- Claim. Assyria carried Israel off, but God kept His rights over both the people and the land — for ever.
And Jehovah had made a covenant with them, and charged them saying, Ye shall not fear other gods, nor bow down yourselves to them, nor serve them, nor sacrifice to them;
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
but Jehovah alone, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt with great power and a stretched-out arm, him shall ye fear, and him shall ye worship, and to him shall ye do sacrifice.
The northern kingdom has just fallen, foreign settlers now fill the land, and God looks back over the whole story. In a long list of bans, verse 36 gives the one positive command: fear the LORD who brought you out of Egypt, and Him only.
This is not new instruction. God is repeating terms He set long before, now over a land full of new settlers and mixed religion.
We are reminded that the land belonged to the nation God had brought up out of Egypt with power openly displayed, and Israel was to fear Him (v.36). They were told to be careful to keep His statutes, laws and ordinances, and to refuse to fear other gods.
Verse 36 asks for three things: fear, bowing and sacrifice. The first of these runs through the whole section, pressed on Israel and on the new settlers alike. (Where the ESV reads "the LORD," the older translation quoted below prints God's name as "Jehovah.")
Notice how this whole passage presses the fear of the Lord, the beginning of wisdom, on the conscience of the people (vv. 35-40), and of the nations too. The Lord had said to Israel: "You shall not fear other gods" (vv. 35, 37, 38). He said, "Jehovah alone … Him you shall fear, and Him you shall worship" (v. 36). And again: "but you shall fear Jehovah your God, and He shall deliver you out of the hand of all your enemies" (v. 39). In this short passage the expression "fear Jehovah" occurs eleven times! Everything else depended on this basic command, and still depends on it.
The verse gives a reason for its demand. This is the God who brought them out of Egypt, and that rescue is why worship belongs to Him alone.
It was on this very ground that, long ago, God sought to be known as God by the Jews. He claimed to be worshipped by them as the one only God, because He had shown Himself their Redeemer. "I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. You shall have no other gods before me." In this act He had made Himself known as God, full of grace and power for captive sinners. If we do not know Him like that, we do not know Him as He truly is. Any thought about God that disagrees with this is only the mind of a darkened creature busy with its own idolatry. The true God is He who reveals Himself in redeeming grace and power.
The verse says God used "great power" and "an outstretched arm." Those words come from the exodus story, and God later promised that same power to a nation in exile.
The nation of Israel was redeemed from Egypt both by purchase and by power (Ex. 15:6, 13, 16). As their Goel, Jehovah brought them out of slavery "with an outstretched arm and with great acts of judgment" (Ex. 6:6). Centuries later the Assyrians and then the Chaldeans carried the nation into captivity. Even then Jehovah kept sending them promises of deliverance by redemption, calling Himself "Jehovah, your Redeemer (Goel)."
("Goel" means a kinsman who buys back what his relative has lost.)
The settlers around Samaria added the LORD to their list of gods. Verse 36 rules that out, and a mixture like that never stays harmless.
A corrupted religion cannot lead people on in the truth. It will always shape them to its own pattern. This fact is obvious, yet it still needs to be stressed. … Those who seem to fear Him do not really fear Him if they do not obey Him. To fear Him is to obey Him. God does not tolerate mixtures.
The mixture showed in their worship, and in the priests they chose to run it.
On the surface they feared the Lord (v.32). But they contradicted that fear by appointing "for themselves" priests of the high places… Today we see the same evil all around us. People claim to respect God, but their works flatly contradict His Word.
Israel broke the command, but God did not withdraw it. God's rights over the people and over the land outlast their failure.
Jehovah kept His sovereign rights over the people despite their unfaithfulness. In the same way, we find Him defending His claim to the land after the people were driven out. He maintains these rights for ever.
- Ground — The claim rests on what God did. He brought them out of Egypt, so worship belongs to Him alone.
- Gift — He redeemed them "both by purchase and by power," acting as their kinsman-Redeemer.
- Fear — The word appears eleven times in this short passage. To fear Him is to obey Him, and everything else depended on that.
- Failure — Adding the LORD to a shelf of other gods is not obedience. A corrupted religion shapes people to its own pattern instead of leading them in the truth.
- Faithfulness — Israel forgot the covenant. God never dropped His claim on the people or the land, and He keeps those rights for ever.
And the statutes and the ordinances and the law, and the commandment which he wrote for you, ye shall observe to do for evermore; and ye shall not fear other gods.
Here God sums up why the northern kingdom fell, pointing back to the terms He wrote down: statutes to keep always, and no other gods. It raises two questions: what those four words cover, and how a people could recite them and still be judged.
The whole passage repeats one demand. One commentator counts how often:
Notice how this whole passage sets the fear of the Lord, this beginning of wisdom, before the conscience of the people (vv. 35-40), and of the nations too. The Lord had said to Israel: "You shall not fear other gods" (vv. 35, 37, 38). He said: "the LORD alone … Him you shall fear, and Him you shall worship" (v. 36). He also said: "but you shall fear the LORD your God, and He will deliver you out of the hand of all your enemies" (v. 39). In this short passage the expression "fear the LORD" occurs eleven times! Everything else depended on this basic command, and still depends on it!
(The wording quoted from verse 36 follows an older translation.)
"Statutes and rules and law and commandment" is not a pile of synonyms. Rossier, writing on a similar list in 1 Kings, gives each term its own weight:
The Word of God directs the walk itself… The Word has different characteristics, and we need to pay attention to all of them… His statutes are the things He has established, and they carry His authority. His commandments express His will, and we are obliged to submit to it. His ordinances (or judgments) are the principles He conveys and acts by. His testimonies are the thoughts He has communicated to us, and faith must receive them.
God wrote these things down, and the verse says to keep them always. People easily assume that rules from another era no longer apply. One writer answers that directly:
The people left in the land were reminded that the law had been given to "all Israel," and therefore it applied to them. What is more, all the "statutes and judgments" that had supplemented the main commandments stood in their integrity, neither repealed nor altered. Changes in human circumstances do not impose any change upon the Divine requirements.
The chapter says these settlers "feared the LORD" — and then says they did not. One commentator holds the two statements together:
Verse 34 puts the whole matter in a true perspective. Verse 33 says, "they feared the Lord." Verse 34 says they kept following their former rituals: "they do not fear the Lord." Their claim in verse 33 was false and empty. They did not really fear the Lord. They did not follow the statutes and ordinances of the Lord, or the law and commandment which the Lord had commanded the children of Jacob, otherwise named Israel.
The same writer refuses to leave this in the past:
On the outside they feared the Lord (v. 32). But they contradicted that fear by appointing "for themselves" priests of the high places… Today we see the same evil all around us. People claim to respect God, but their works flatly contradict His Word, and they often adopt the rituals of foreign nations.
A priest came back to teach these people how to fear the LORD. He failed, and the reason matters:
This priest himself had supported the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God, so he could teach them nothing but his own corruption… A corrupted religion cannot lead people on in the truth. It will always shape them to its own pattern. This fact is obvious, yet it still needs stressing… Those who appear to fear Him do not truly fear Him if they do not obey Him, for to fear Him is to obey Him. God does not tolerate mixtures.
The demand came with a promise attached:
They were not to forget the covenant the Lord had made with them, but to fear the Lord, who would honour their submission and keep them free from the power of their enemies.
- Fear first. The passage says "fear the LORD" eleven times. Everything else depended on it, and still does.
- Fear defined. His statutes carry His authority. His commandments express His will. His ordinances show how He acts. His testimonies are the thoughts faith must receive.
- Fear fixed. God wrote them down, so changed circumstances change nothing. The statutes stood neither repealed nor altered.
- Fear faked. One verse says they feared the LORD; the next says they did not. To fear Him is to obey Him — and the same contradiction is common today.
- Fear rewarded. Those who did not forget His covenant had His promise: He would deliver them from all their enemies.
And ye shall not forget the covenant that I have made with you, neither shall ye fear other gods;
Israel has just gone into exile, and foreign settlers now fill the emptied land. Here the chapter repeats the terms God set long before — remember the covenant, fear no other god — and the rest of the chapter shows what happens when a people forget.
The verse is one line in a short summary of what God had done for Israel and what He asked in return.
We are reminded that the land really belonged to the nation God had brought up out of the land of Egypt with clear power, and Israel was to fear Him (v.36). They were told to be careful to keep His statutes, laws and ordinances, and to refuse to fear other gods. They were not to forget the covenant the Lord had made with them, but to fear the Lord, who would honour their submission and keep them from the grip of their enemies (vv.37-39).
Two things stand together here: remember what God promised, and refuse what other gods claim.
The repetition in these verses is deliberate, and it is worth counting.
Notice how this whole passage sets the fear of the Lord, the beginning of wisdom, before the conscience of the people (vv. 35-40) and of the nations too. The Lord had said to Israel: "You shall not fear other gods" (vv. 35, 37, 38). He said, "the LORD alone … Him you shall fear, and Him you shall worship" (v. 36). He also said, "but you shall fear the LORD your God, and He will deliver you out of the hand of all your enemies" (v. 39). In this short passage the expression "fear the LORD" occurs eleven times! Everything else depended on this basic command and still depends on it!
The chapter itself supplies the test case. It first says the settlers feared the LORD, then denies it.
Verse 34 puts the whole matter in true perspective. Though verse 33 says "they feared the LORD," verse 34 says they went on following their former rituals — "they do not fear the LORD." Their claim in verse 33 was false and empty… With them God had made a covenant, charging them, "You shall not fear other gods or bow yourselves to them or serve them or sacrifice to them" (v.35).
So this command does not target open atheism. It targets a worship that keeps God's name and keeps everything else too. What divides real fear from claimed fear is obedience.
Those who appear to fear Him do not truly fear Him if they do not obey Him, for to fear Him is to obey Him. God does not tolerate mixtures.
The teacher sent to instruct these newcomers was himself a product of the system that had ruined Israel, and that detail explains the outcome.
The king of Assyria sent them one of the priests who had been carried away captive, to "teach them the manner of the god of the land." But this priest himself had supported the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God. So he could teach them nothing but his own corruption… A corrupted religion — and this obvious fact needs special stress — cannot lead men on in the truth. It will always shape them according to its own pattern.
The result was not a swap of one religion for another, but a blend.
The history of what happened after foreign nations were brought in shows the strange confusion that had taken place in Israel. It is one of the former priests of Jeroboam's system who comes to teach them the fear of the LORD. Along with this they worship their own gods. A mixture, hateful to the Lord, is the result.
Israel had to remember the covenant. But God's own rights did not depend on Israel's memory. Even with the land emptied, He kept His claim on it.
In spite of its desolation, God was caring for the land of His inheritance. He was asserting His rights over it, not allowing them to be taken away… Whatever the ruin might be, the name of the Lord must not be entirely removed from the land of Israel, and that with a view to the future, for the remnant, the true Israel, is to inherit the land.
Commentators bring the warning into the present.
Outwardly they feared the Lord (v.32), but contradicted that fear by appointing "for themselves" priests of the high places… Today the same evil is seen all around us. People claim to respect God, but their works are in flat contradiction to His Word, often adopting the rituals of foreign nations.
- Remember — the covenant was something God had already made and done; Israel's part was not to forget it.
- Fear — "fear the LORD" appears eleven times in this short passage. Everything else depended on this one command, and still does.
- Refuse — the covenant named what fear of God rules out: no other gods bowed to, served or sacrificed to.
- Mixture — forget the covenant and religion does not vanish; it blends. People claim to fear God while their worship says otherwise, and commentators call that mixture hateful to the Lord.
- God remembers — Israel forgot. God kept His rights over people and land, and holds them for a future remnant.
but ye shall fear Jehovah your God, and he shall deliver you out of the hand of all your enemies.
This verse ends a long chapter about Israel's failure. It closes not with a threat but with an offer. New settlers in the land had added the LORD to the gods they already had. So two questions stand behind the verse. What counts as fearing Him? And what does He promise those who do?
The closing section of the chapter repeats one requirement again and again. One writer counted how often.
Notice how this whole passage presses the fear of the Lord, this beginning of wisdom, on the conscience of the people (vv. 35-40), and on the nations too. The Lord had said to Israel: "You shall not fear other gods" (vv. 35, 37, 38)… In this short passage the expression "fear the LORD" occurs eleven times! Everything else depended on this basic requirement, and still does.
The word "fear" can mislead a modern reader. It helps to hear first what it does not mean.
This fear of the Lord is not the slavish dread that marks the superstitious. No. It is a reverent trustfulness accompanied by hatred of evil. "The fear of the LORD is hatred of evil" (Prov. 8:13). "The fear of the LORD is clean, enduring forever." Where people keep this fear, the presence of the Lord is a reality and a joy.
This promise is the last link in a chain that runs back to Egypt, the covenant, and the land itself.
The land really belonged to the nation God had brought up from the land of Egypt with obvious power, and Israel was to fear Him (v. 36). God told them to keep His statutes, laws and ordinances carefully, and to refuse to fear other gods. They were not to forget the covenant the Lord had made with them. They were to fear the Lord, who would honour their submission and preserve them from the bondage of their enemies (vv. 37-39).
Fearing God does not leave a person timid. It works the opposite way.
We read next that in the fear of the LORD one has strong confidence. This fear takes away all other fear and becomes a tower of strength. It also helps others who tremble at His word, especially His children. What place of refuge is so sure and near?
The settlers in Samaria said they feared the LORD. A few verses later the record itself denies it.
Verse 34 puts the whole matter in true perspective. Verse 33 says, "they feared the LORD." But verse 34 says they kept following their former rituals: "they do not fear the LORD." Their claim in verse 33 was false and empty. They did not truly fear the Lord. They did not follow His statutes and ordinances, or the law and commandment He had given to the children of Jacob, whom He named Israel.
The religion that shaped them explains how they got there.
A corrupted religion cannot lead people on in the truth. It will always shape them after its own pattern. The fact is obvious, yet we must still insist on it.
The same promise appears earlier, when Israel faced the Philistines. There the condition comes with it.
If He has His place in the heart or in the land, all strange gods must be put away… He cannot endure a heart divided between Himself and a false god. All this is simple enough. Yet there must still be preparation and purpose of heart to carry it out in a real and lasting way… If they are ready for this, then there is the clear promise: "He will deliver you out of the hand of the Philistines." God Himself had removed His ark from the Philistines' land. Yet in His holiness He could not rescue them from that same enemy until the people were right before Him.
What happened in Samaria was not a one-off. The same idea keeps coming back.
People have often renewed these proposals for an all-inclusive religion. The Samaritans worshipped the Lord and the gods of the country around… Today the same proposal comes back with all energy and from all sides.
- One command. The passage repeats "Fear the LORD" eleven times. Everything else in Israel's life hung on that one requirement, and it still does.
- One meaning. This fear is not superstitious dread. It is reverent trust joined to a hatred of evil, and it drives out every other fear.
- One promise. God pledges to preserve from the enemy those who submit to Him and do not forget His covenant.
- One counterfeit. Samaria claimed to fear the LORD while keeping its own gods. The record answers that they did not fear Him. A corrupted religion only reproduces itself in those it teaches.
- One condition. God will not accept a divided heart. He could not rescue His people while they stayed that way. The promise of deliverance belongs to those who serve Him alone.
And they did not hearken, but did after their former customs.
God had just charged Israel to fear Him alone, with a promise to rescue them. Verse 40 gives the answer He received from the nations now settled in Samaria: they kept the ways they came with. So this whole section presses one question. Can a religion that keeps its old gods beside the true God count as the fear of the LORD?
The message they ignored was not obscure. One writer counts how often this short section repeats one command, and says everything else rests on it.
Notice how this whole passage sets the fear of the Lord, this beginning of wisdom, before the conscience of the people (vv. 35-40), and before the nations. The Lord had said to Israel: "You shall not fear other gods" (vv. 35, 37, 38). He said, "the LORD alone … Him shall you fear, and Him shall you worship" (v. 36). He also said, "but you shall fear the LORD your God, and He will deliver you out of the hand of all your enemies" (v. 39). In this short passage the expression "fear the LORD" occurs eleven times! Everything else depended upon this basic command and still depends on it!
What replaced obedience still looked like religion. One writer marks the gap between appearance and reality, and how far down the generations it ran.
But now the land was given over to people who paid no attention at all to the commands of God. So these nations who entered the land looked as if they feared the Lord, but in fact served their carved images. Their children and their children's children followed the same course of evil. Some Israelites were still scattered through Samaria, but they did not soften the picture of guilty contempt for God's law. It only added to the mixture of many elements of evil.
They were not left without a teacher. A priest came to them for that very purpose. The same writer shows why he failed, and what real fear of God involves.
The king of Assyria sent them one of the priests who had been carried away captive, to "teach them the manner of the god of the land." But this priest himself had supported the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God. So he could teach them nothing but his own corruption… A corrupted religion cannot lead people on in the truth. It will always shape them after its own pattern. This fact is obvious, and yet it must still be stressed… Those who appear to fear Him do not truly fear Him if they do not obey Him, for to fear Him is to obey Him. God does not tolerate mixtures.
Their failure does not leave the land ownerless. One writer names what the mixture produced, and what God still held.
Together with this they worship their own gods. A mixture, hateful to the Lord, is the consequence. Despite their unfaithfulness, the LORD kept His sovereign rights over the people. In the same way, we find Him defending His claim to the land after the people were driven out. He maintains these rights for ever.
Commentators apply this pattern to our own day. One sees the same split in the religion around us:
Today the same evil is seen all around us. People claim to respect God, but their works are in flat contradiction to His Word, often adopting the rituals of foreign nations.
Another compares this Samaritan mixture to something that is not even plain idolatry:
This mixture could not be likened to pure idolatry. It makes us think of the blend called Christendom, in whatever form it appears. It reaches from the time of Roman and Greek worship of Mary, to the much more subtle forms of Protestant Christendom. There the worship of the true God is tied to the moral darkness of the world, and what people claim has no relationship to what ought to mark the people of God.
This verse is not the last word on these people. One writer traces what they became, and what they still knew.
They lived in the land of the LORD, and yet did not fear the LORD, so the LORD troubled them… As a result they became a corrupt people who "feared the LORD, and served their own gods." So they had some dim knowledge of the Lord, and knew that the Messiah was coming.
- Command — Eleven times in this short passage God presses one thing: fear the LORD. To fear Him is to obey Him. Everything else depended on that, and still does.
- Refusal — They would not listen. The old ways stayed, and the fear of the LORD became an appearance laid over them.
- Cause — The teacher sent to them was himself mixed. A corrupted religion cannot lead anyone into truth; it reproduces its own pattern.
- Spread — The refusal did not stop with them. Their children and their grandchildren walked the same road, and the mixture only grew.
- Warning — The same double life runs on wherever people claim to respect God while their works contradict His Word. Yet even here a dim knowledge of the Lord and of the coming Messiah survived.
And these nations feared Jehovah, and served their graven images, both their children and their children's children as did their fathers, so do they, unto this day.
Assyria moved foreign settlers into Samaria, and this verse is the chapter's final verdict on them. They kept up the fear of the LORD and their idols at the same time and handed both down to their children — which raises the question of what such "fear" is worth.
The verse is about settlers, not Israelites. Here is how they came to be there:
The king of Assyria had settled colonists from the East in the cities. They were now in the LORD's land, but they did not fear Him, so He sent lions among them. When the king of Assyria heard of this, he sent them a priest who had been carried away from Samaria, to teach them how they should fear the God of that land. The result was that they feared the LORD, and served their own gods!
Read alongside verse 34, the chapter's own language turns on itself. What the settlers called fear, God did not call fear:
Verse 34 puts the whole matter in a true perspective. Verse 33 says, "they feared the LORD." Yet verse 34 says they kept following their former rituals: "they do not fear the LORD." Their claim in verse 33 was false and empty. They did not truly fear the LORD. They did not follow His statutes and ordinances, or the law and commandment which the LORD had given to the children of Jacob, also named Israel.
So what does real fear look like?
Those who appear to fear Him do not truly fear Him if they do not obey Him. To fear Him is to obey Him. God does not tolerate mixtures.
The teacher sent to fix the problem carried the problem in himself:
This priest had himself supported the dreadful mixture of idolatry with the worship of the true God. So he could teach them nothing but his own corruption. On the one hand they learned "how they should fear the LORD." On the other hand, "every nation made gods of their own, and put them in the houses of the high places that the Samaritans had made" (v. 29). This fact is obvious, yet it still needs to be insisted on: a corrupted religion cannot lead people on in the truth. It will always shape them according to its own pattern.
The surrounding verses hammer one demand, and the count itself is the argument:
Notice how this whole passage presses the fear of the Lord, this beginning of wisdom, on the conscience of the people (vv. 35-40), and of the nations too. The Lord had said to Israel: "You shall not fear other gods" (vv. 35, 37, 38). He said, "the LORD alone… Him you shall fear, and Him you shall worship" (v. 36). He also said, "you shall fear the LORD your God, and He will deliver you out of the hand of all your enemies" (v. 39). In this short passage the expression "fear the LORD" occurs eleven times! Everything depended on this elementary command, and still depends on it.
Some call such separation narrow and unkind:
It was impossible for the true God to consent to a partnership with false objects of worship. People who are ignorant or unbelieving may brand faith in His word and the bond between Him and His own as narrow and presumptuous and uncharitable. But those who value the truth rightly feel that a relationship with Him must be exclusive.
Writers apply the verse beyond Samaria. The modern form of it is not carved images but an addition to Christ:
For most professing Christians today it is the Lord and some form of the world, some addition to Himself. It is a mixed, Samaritan worship of the Lord and their own gods. It is a sad admission that the Lord is not enough to satisfy, a love of pleasure more than a love of God.
- Origin. These were foreign settlers, not Israelites. Lions came among them, so a priest taught them a little about the LORD — and they worshipped Him and their own gods together.
- Verdict. The chapter answers itself: what verse 33 calls fear, verse 34 calls no fear at all — the claim was empty.
- Cause. The teacher sent to them was already compromised. A corrupted religion cannot lead people into the truth; it shapes them to its own pattern.
- Remedy. Eleven times in a few verses God presses one thing — fear Him alone. And to fear Him is to obey Him.
- Result. The mixture outlived the people who made it and reached their children and grandchildren. But a relationship with God must be exclusive.
And it came to pass in the third year of Hoshea the son of Elah, king of Israel, that Hezekiah the son of Ahaz, king of Judah, began to reign.
The chapter opens with a date. A new king takes the throne in Judah while the northern kingdom of Israel nears its end under Hoshea. The son of one of Judah's worst kings steps into power.
Hezekiah's name carries a meaning, and his record breaks with the reigns before it.
Hezekiah (strength of Jehovah) was the pious son of a very wicked father. The long list of kings who did evil in God's sight is behind us. It is refreshing now to read that Hezekiah "did what was right in the sight of the LORD, according to all that his father David did."
The verse names Ahaz as Hezekiah's father. One writer asks whether godliness passes from a father to a son at all.
If piety is not transmitted from father to son, grace can work in the heart and direct the steps of one who had the most wicked father. This was the case with the son of Ahaz. The way in which Hezekiah sought the glory of his God shows remarkable faith and energy.
Another writer weighs the influence of both parents, then sets both aside.
Hezekiah's mother was probably from a priestly or Levite family. No doubt, as we have often noted, the Lord used her in raising her son. His father Ahaz, on the other hand, could only have had a bad influence on him. But whatever these good or bad influences may have been, grace alone explains the characters of Hezekiah and of Josiah. The last kings of Judah prove it: they were ungodly despite their Jewish mothers and their godly father.
Hezekiah's reign begins one of two periods of renewal in Judah, and neither was expected.
We are entering the period of revivals in the true sense. The first is Hezekiah's, which we are about to look at; the second is Josiah's. The outstanding feature of these revivals is that they are entirely the fruit of the grace of God. They are not foreseen, no preliminary work introduces them, no sign of repentance on the part of the people comes before them. They are the direct work of the Spirit of God and break out in a brilliant way in the middle of the ruin of Judah.
Scripture measures earlier kings of Judah against the king just before them. One writer notes that Hezekiah is measured against David instead.
God traces his faithfulness back to the example given by David, a fact all the more remarkable in that it is not stated of his predecessors. Of Jotham it says, "he did what was right in the sight of Jehovah: he did according to all that his father Uzziah had done." Of Uzziah, "according to all that his father Amaziah had done." Of Amaziah, "according to all that Joash his father had done." The Word of God makes the same remarks about Josiah as about Hezekiah. This confirms that these two kings returned to what was there at the beginning. No revival today is a true revival unless it has this character.
One writer asks where a boy like this could have been trained.
The power and goodness of the Lord is clear. Hezekiah was a good king, while his father was the worst who had yet sat on the throne. Where was the youth Hezekiah trained — in his father's palace or in the city? Ahaz had surrounded him with idolatry. He had idols in every separate city, in every grove, on every high hill. He had shut the doors of the LORD's house. Wherever Hezekiah looked, an idol met his eye. And yet in the first year of his reign, the first month, he opened the doors of the house of the LORD.
The verse dates Hezekiah's start by Hoshea's third year. Those numbers raise a question, and one writer works through it.
The history of the fall of Samaria and the Assyrian invasions raises questions of dating. Some come from the record itself, some from comparing it with secular history. The margin has resolved the interval by an interregnum. This is at any rate in substance right, because Hoshea is said to have reigned nine years. Yet he begins to reign in the twelfth year of Ahaz. And Pekah was killed in the third year of Ahaz, since Ahaz began in the seventeenth year of Pekah, and Pekah reigned twenty years.
- Grace begins it. Hezekiah's goodness was not passed down from Ahaz; grace alone explains why a king rose out of that household.
- Grace surprises. These revivals were not foreseen, and no repentance in the people came first — they broke out in the middle of ruin.
- Grace reaches back. Hezekiah is measured against David, not against the king before him: a return to what was there at the beginning.
- Grace outlasts surroundings. Raised where an idol met his eye everywhere he looked, he opened the doors of the LORD's house in his first month.
- Grace is not inherited. The last kings of Judah had a godly father and still turned out ungodly. Upbringing does not explain Hezekiah.
He was twenty-five years old when he began to reign; and he reigned twenty-nine years in Jerusalem; and his mother's name was Abi, daughter of Zechariah.
This verse gives three plain facts about Hezekiah: his age, the length of his reign, and his mother's name. Each one carries weight. His age raises a famous puzzle about his father. The years of his reign date the illness that nearly killed him. His mother's name points to the person who shaped him.
Her name appears in Scripture in two forms:
Abijah. Daughter of Zechariah and mother of Hezekiah, 2 Chronicles 29:1: shortened to ABI in 2 Kings 18:2.
Who her father Zechariah was is not certain, and commentators only offer possibilities. What her son became, however, invites a conclusion about her:
"His mother's name was Abi the daughter of Zechariah." Her father was perhaps one of the two faithful witnesses of Isaiah 8:2. Or she may have been a descendant of the Zechariah who guided Uzziah during the earlier part of his reign; or even of the martyr Zechariah, killed by order of king Joash. Either way, she must have been a true "mother in Israel" to have raised so godly a son, with such a wicked father's example in front of him. Mothers, what a responsibility is yours, and what a privilege too! It is as if God says to you, "Take this child, and nurse it for Me, and I will give you your wages." Abi certainly had her "wages" when she saw her son renew and reform the ruined kingdom of his father David. Often, in truth, the hand that rocks the cradle rules the empire, whether for good or for harm.
A godly upbringing can be traced in Hezekiah, but one writer warns against turning that into a rule, since Judah's history supplies the counter-examples:
Hezekiah's mother was probably from the priestly or Levite family. No doubt, as we have often noticed, the Lord used her in bringing up her son. His father Ahaz, on the other hand, could only have had a bad influence on him. But whatever these good or bad influences may have been, grace alone explains the characters of Hezekiah and of Josiah. The last kings of Judah prove it: they were ungodly despite their Jewish mothers and their godly father.
Hezekiah came to the throne at twenty-five, straight from the reign of one of Judah's worst kings, and he broke the pattern:
His father set an unusually bad example, yet Hezekiah did not follow it. Every person should realise that he does not have to walk in his father's ungodly footsteps. Hezekiah's grandfather Uzziah had been a faithful man by comparison. But we are not told that Hezekiah did according to all that Uzziah had done — he did according to all that his father David had done. So David was his example, the first king of God's choice in Israel.
The age creates one of the best-known arithmetic problems in Scripture, because Ahaz was twenty when he began to reign and reigned sixteen years:
This seems to teach that Ahaz was only eleven years old when his son Hezekiah was born, which is highly unlikely, if not impossible… Fausset says "twenty" in 2 Kings 16:2 is "a copyist's error" for "twenty-five"… But one writer aptly replies: "We may observe that it is never advisable to find fault with the text except where there is no other tolerable solution, which is not the case here."
Rather than correcting the text, two explanations are offered that leave the numbers standing:
First, it is quite possible that a break of some years occurred in king Ahaz's reign… Second, Scripture does not say that Hezekiah began to reign immediately after his father's death. True, the usual wording is used — "Ahaz slept with his fathers … and Hezekiah his son reigned in his place"… So a number of years, Scripture allows us to believe, may have passed between the death of Ahaz (because of the unsettled state of his kingdom) and Hezekiah's accession. This would entirely remove any difficulty about Ahaz's young age at the birth of his firstborn.
The length of his reign fixes the date of the illness that nearly killed him:
"In those days Hezekiah became sick and was at the point of death." "Those days" must refer to the time of the Assyrian invasion, or just after Sennacherib came up. That was the fourteenth year of Hezekiah's reign, since the prophet promised him fifteen more years of life. As he reigned twenty-nine years, there is no difficulty at all in fixing the exact time of his sickness. Men make difficulties for themselves, where there really are none, by listening to uncertain monument records instead of holding to the simple and sure statements of Holy Scripture.
- Named — she is Abi here and Abijah in Chronicles, the daughter of Zechariah.
- Nurtured — she raised a godly son under a wicked father. The hand that rocks the cradle rules the empire.
- Grace — upbringing alone will not explain him. Later kings had godly mothers and still turned out badly. Grace alone accounts for Hezekiah.
- Free — his pattern was David, not Ahaz or even Uzziah. No one has to walk in a father's ungodly footsteps.
- Numbered — both numbers stand as written. The age problem has fair answers without changing the text, and the twenty-nine years date his illness to his fourteenth year.
And he did what was right in the sight of Jehovah, according to all that David his father had done.
Hezekiah took the throne of Judah after his father Ahaz, one of the worst kings the nation had known. Yet the record measures him by David — not by his father, not by his grandfather. That raises two questions: where does such a life come from, and who should we measure ourselves by?
Hezekiah grew up surrounded by his father's idolatry. So his upbringing cannot explain his faithfulness. Commentators point instead to grace at work in him.
If piety is not passed from father to son, grace can work in the heart and direct the steps of a man who had the most wicked father. This was the case with the son of Ahaz. The way Hezekiah sought the glory of his God shows remarkable faith and energy.
Another commentator looks at the mother who raised him, and at what God gives mothers to do.
She must have been a true "mother in Israel" to have raised so godly a son, with such a wicked father's example in front of him. Mothers, what a responsibility is yours! And what a privilege too, to have God say to you, as it were: "Take this child, and nurse it for Me, and I will give you your wages."
The phrase "according to all that David his father had done" breaks a pattern. The record usually measured a king by whoever came just before him.
God traces his faithfulness back to the example given by David, a fact all the more remarkable because it is not said of his predecessors. Jotham "did what was right in the eyes of the LORD, according to all that his father Uzziah had done." Uzziah did "according to all that his father Amaziah had done." Amaziah did "according to all that Joash his father had done." The Word of God says the same of Josiah as of Hezekiah. That confirms these two kings returned to what was there at the beginning. You cannot call a revival today a true revival if it does not have this character.
One writer points out whom Hezekiah did not copy, and whom we should.
Hezekiah's grandfather Uzziah had been a fairly faithful man. But we are not told that Hezekiah did according to all that Uzziah had done. We are told he did according to all that his father David had done. So David was his example, the first king of God's choice in Israel. Let us remember too that we ought to follow the example of the Lord Jesus, and not be satisfied with any lesser example.
Doing right "according to David" showed where better kings had stopped short. They left the high places standing.
Uzziah and Jotham had done what was right according to all their fathers had done, but not according to what David had done, for they tolerated the high places. It was different with Hezekiah, for "He removed the high places and broke the pillars and cut down the Asherah. And he broke in pieces the bronze serpent that Moses had made" (verse 4). How delightful it must have been for the Lord to see such zeal for Him in the faithful Hezekiah.
Hezekiah's right-doing had a place and a date.
His father had shut the doors of the house of the LORD. The first thing Hezekiah did was to open the doors and repair them. And this was in the first year of his reign, in the first month. There was no delay; he began at once. He fully realised one thing: to have the LORD's presence and blessing, the work must begin at the sanctuary.
In Hezekiah, tearing down idols and building up worship went together. One writer makes that balance the test of real spiritual power.
To resist evil and to bring in good shows the possession of divine power; it is not one-sided. Where there is only conviction or persuasion, and not divine power, there will always be a marked imperfection. "The legs of the lame are not equal." There may be a great effort to resist the enemy, without an equal effort to recover the truth… Hezekiah is not of this order; he is not lame; he resists evil and he seeks and supports the truth of God in its true force and excellence.
The writer quotes a proverb in an older translation here; the ESV reads, "a lame man's legs, which hang useless."
- Source. Hezekiah did not inherit his goodness from Ahaz. Grace can work in the heart of a man with the worst possible father.
- Standard. God measures him by David, not by the king before him. That return to the beginning is the mark of a true revival.
- Start. He began at the sanctuary. He opened and repaired its doors in the first month of his first year, with no delay.
- Scope. He went further than better kings had gone, removing the high places they had tolerated.
- Shape. Real obedience is not lame on one leg: it resists evil and recovers the truth of God together.
He removed the high places, and broke the columns, and cut down the Asherahs, and broke in pieces the serpent of brass that Moses had made; for to those days the children of Israel burned incense to it and he called it Nehushtan.
Hezekiah begins his reign by destroying every object his people had learned to bow to. The last one on the list is the bronze serpent Moses himself had made. How can a thing God once used become a thing God's servant must break in pieces?
Kings before Hezekiah had left the high places standing. He pulled them down, and that meant disagreeing with the most celebrated king in Israel's past.
How good to see that he removed the high places (v.4). Other kings before him had not done this. Solomon was the one who brought in worship at the high places. But by judging those high places, Hezekiah showed openly that he disagreed with Solomon. Solomon's reign was glorious, yet that gives no one the right to copy his acts of disobedience to God.
His measure was not his father or his grandfather but David, and that choice is what marks a genuine recovery.
"He did what was right in the sight of Jehovah, according to all that David his father had done" (v. 3). God traces his faithfulness back to the example given by David, a fact all the more remarkable in that it is not stated of his predecessors… The Word of God makes the same remarks about Josiah as about Hezekiah (2 Kings 22:2), thus confirming the fact that these two kings returned to that which was at the beginning. One cannot today call a revival a true revival which does not have this character.
Israel kept the serpent for centuries. The feeling behind that was warm and understandable, which is exactly what made it dangerous.
Is it not striking that the Word never mentions the bronze serpent again after Moses lifted it up in the wilderness? Yet Israel had kept it for more than seven hundred years, no doubt in memory of the wonderful deliverance that came to the people through it. Israel had been healed through it. Was it not natural for them to want to keep it as a visible witness to that healing? It was a respectable thing, an old picture of deliverance from sin and its consequences by the sacrifice of Christ. But in the hands of the enemy of our souls it had become a means of idolatry for the people, who burned incense to it. It took faithful Hezekiah to pick out this hidden idolatry and destroy it, dressed up as it was in the clothes of a divine institution. The serpent was a symbol. It had no miraculous power in itself.
Why was keeping it wrong? The answer lies in what God gave it for.
What happened with the bronze serpent shows us how the heart leans toward idolatry… It also teaches us how short the step is — with hearts like ours — from remembering a blessing to making an idol of the symbol of it. Faith gets rid of these things. God gave the bronze serpent to cure, not to be a keepsake to remember the cure by. Man kept it out of a very natural feeling. But this is not of God, and it soon became the instrument of Satan.
Why had no earlier reformer dealt with the serpent?
The kings who reformed before him probably lacked one of two things. Either they could not see the idolatry in the superstitious reverence people gave it, or they had no holy courage to destroy it against popular opposition. God had used it in the wilderness as a picture of Christ "made sin" for our salvation. But the nation had dragged it down, and themselves with it, by treating it with a half-idolatrous spirit… To his honour, Hezekiah did not hesitate to remove this cause of offence. He called it what it really was — a mere piece of brass.
The same danger did not die with Israel.
Like Nehushtan, the cross of Christ has given rise to superstitious practices. To own a piece of the "true cross," to kiss it, or to revere a piece of bronze or ivory showing the Lord dying on the cross — these are common practices in much of the Christian world. Man is attached to the symbol and sees some special value or power in it. He makes the symbol his God.
So how can you tell when a sacred thing has turned? Faith has a test.
Faith counts an ordinance valuable only while it brings God, in living power, to the soul — that is, while faith can enjoy Christ in it, as He Himself appointed. Beyond that it is worth nothing at all. If it comes between the heart and His precious work and His glorious Person, even a little, it stops being an ordinance of God and becomes an instrument of the devil. Superstition judges the other way: the ordinance is everything, and God is shut out.
- Given — God gave the serpent to cure, not to be a keepsake after the cure. The memorial was man's idea, not His.
- Kept — Israel held on to it for over seven hundred years, out of natural and even respectable gratitude.
- Degraded — a symbol with no power of its own became an object of incense. Idolatry dressed as a divine institution is harder to spot than the open kind.
- Broken — earlier kings lacked the discernment or the courage. Hezekiah called it Nehushtan, a piece of brass, and smashed it anyway.
- Tested — a sacred thing is worth keeping only while it brings Christ to the soul. The moment it stands between the heart and Him, faith lets it go.
He trusted in Jehovah the God of Israel; so that after him was none like him among all the kings of Judah, nor [among any] that were before him.
Judah was near collapse when Hezekiah became king. Assyria had already swallowed the northern kingdom. Of this king one word says everything — he trusted — and that word lifts him above every other king of Judah.
Read the verdict against its moment. Judah was falling apart from the inside as much as from the outside.
Judah at this time was extremely low — never so low. They had been weakened by the kingdom of Israel... For a nation never falls to outside power until it has been undermined from within. And so it was with Judah. But God, of His grace, saw fit in that dark and desolate day, to raise up a blessed man.
Why should one word rank a king so high?
Nothing describes Hezekiah's spiritual character so truly or so strongly as trust in God. And trust in God is the root of all that is blessed, I may say, in a believing man. There may be other qualities... but nothing can make up for a lack of trust. Trust is what magnifies God, and what keeps us low before God. It is the great expression of dependence, and for a man nothing is more lovely than depending on God.
Real trust shows itself in what it turns down.
Here is the particular and very striking mark of Hezekiah, and of the revival that came with his reign. It is trust in God. This trust made him reject all human help. He does not, like other kings, seek Egypt's help to escape Assyria (Isa. 30:1-5; 31:1-3), or lean, like his father, on Assyria against enemies from outside. Still, even there his faith shows its weaknesses, as we shall see.
Which comes first — the trusting or the obeying?
It is not the commandments that produce trust, but it is trust that enables the man to keep the commandments. The only people who ever kept the law in Israel were those who had faith in God, who leaned on Him.
That rules out one common claim:
Let us beware of so-called trust in God which links itself to disobedience of His Word. If I trust in Him, I will cleave to Him; if I cleave to Him, I will keep His Word... One may find, no doubt, trust in Him mixed with much ignorance, but ignorance is not disobedience.
A later king, Josiah, receives a similar verdict, and commentators handle the overlap in different ways. One resolves it by noting that each is measured by his own distinguishing mark:
What set Josiah apart was his care to keep the law of Moses, the book that had been found in the temple. What marked Hezekiah was trust in the LORD. In these two marks, each is unequalled in his walk.
Another writer ranks them, and puts Hezekiah's trust on different ground:
Clearly Hezekiah is on higher ground than Josiah... He is noted for his trust in the Lord (2 Kings 18:5), that is, he took the ground of grace. Josiah took instead the ground of law. Hezekiah fell sick and nearly died, and he was tested, so that he might know all that was in his heart. Just the way of God with His saints who live by faith.
Trust brought Hezekiah fame, and fame carried its own danger.
Popularity, a great name like the names of the great men of the earth, is the result of faith — the faith of a man who dealt with God in the sense of his own nothingness... Hezekiah "was magnified in the sight of all nations from then on"; yes — but sadly, he was magnified also in his own sight. In all our times of prosperity let us say, "O Lord, hold me up!"
- Grace first. Judah was falling apart from the inside. In that dark day God raised up this man.
- Trust is the root. Other qualities may run higher in other men. Nothing makes up for a lack of trust. It magnifies God and keeps a man low before Him.
- Trust refuses. It showed itself in what Hezekiah would not lean on — not Egypt, not Assyria.
- Trust obeys. Commandments never produce trust. Trust produces obedience. A trust that lives with disobedience to His Word is not the real thing.
- Trust gets tested. The same faith that brought him fame left him open to being magnified in his own eyes; the cry for prosperity is "O Lord, hold me up."
And he clave to Jehovah, and did not turn aside from following him, but kept his commandments, which Jehovah commanded Moses.
Three short statements sum up Hezekiah's reign: he held fast, he did not turn away, and he kept what God had given through Moses. They explain the verdict in the line before — that no king of Judah was like him — and they show what lay underneath such a life.
The order matters. Commentators point out that law-keeping is not where this starts. It grows out of the trust named in the verse before.
This is a very important thing to observe. It is not the commandments that produce trust; it is trust that enables a man to keep the commandments. The only people who ever did the law in Israel were those who had faith in God, who leaned on Him. It was not looking at the law, or merely deferring to it. Of course they did that... but what produces obedience is always trust.
That trust showed in how he dealt with the great powers around him:
This trust caused him to reject all human aid. He does not, like other kings, seek Egypt's help to escape Assyria. He does not lean on the Assyrian against other enemies from outside, as his father did.
The verb behind "held fast" is not a mild one. It is used for the deepest human attachment and was pressed on Israel again and again.
To cleave is the word God used at the very beginning of human history. It expresses the undivided and unchanging affection a man should keep for the wife of his choice (Gen. 2:24). This love is so close and so unifying that by cleaving "the two shall become one flesh" (Eph. 5:31). Cleaving also expresses the loving obedience and worshipping service which should mark the people of God. Six times Moses and Joshua urged the children of Israel to cleave to the LORD their God.
The verse links three things in one breath. Writers warn against holding the first without the last.
This trust is inseparable from obedience... Let us beware of so-called trust in God which links itself to disobedience of His Word. If I trust in Him, I will cleave to Him; if I cleave to Him, I will keep His Word, and I keep it just as He entrusted it to me at the beginning... One may find, no doubt, trust in Him mixed with much ignorance, but ignorance is not disobedience. The result of Hezekiah's faith is soon apparent: "the LORD was with him; wherever he went out, he prospered" (v. 7). What a happy circle of blessings!
Hezekiah did not keep the customs of his own day. He kept what God had given through Moses, long before. Commentators treat that reach back as the mark of real revival.
The Word of God makes the same remarks about Josiah as about Hezekiah, confirming that these two kings returned to what was at the beginning. One cannot today call a revival a true revival which does not have this character. It was the same in the days of Ezra and of Nehemiah. In the very scene of ruin, the people returned to the divine foundations and to the Word of God... In no way did he compromise with the corruption that had entered Judah.
Scripture later says much the same of Josiah. The two men were not praised for the same thing.
What set Josiah apart was his care to keep the law of Moses, the book found in the temple. What marked Hezekiah was trust in the LORD. In these two things they are both unequalled in their walk.
Other writers press the difference further:
Clearly Hezekiah is on higher ground than Josiah, and Scripture says of him that none before or after were like him. What marks him is his trust in the Lord — that is, he took the ground of grace. Josiah took the ground of law instead. Hezekiah fell sick and came near death, and God tested him, so that he might know all that was in his heart. This is just the way of God with His saints who live by faith.
- Trust first. Commands never produce trust; trust produces the keeping of commands. Hezekiah obeyed because he leaned on God.
- Trust refuses props. Because he leaned on God, he would not buy safety from Egypt or Assyria the way his father had.
- Trust clings. "Held fast" speaks of an undivided, unchanging attachment — the word for marriage, and the call Moses and Joshua pressed on Israel six times.
- Clinging obeys. Trust, cleaving and obedience come as one package. A confidence in God that lives happily with disobedience to His Word is not the real thing. Ignorance, though, is not disobedience.
- Obedience goes back to the beginning. He kept what God said through Moses, not the religion of his own day. Commentators call that return to the original foundations the test of any real revival.
And Jehovah was with him; he prospered whithersoever he went forth. And he rebelled against the king of Assyria, and served him not.
Hezekiah's father Ahaz had bought protection from Assyria, the great power of the day. This verse shows what came of Hezekiah holding fast to God instead: God's presence, success, and freedom from Assyria.
The verse reports a result, not a coincidence. One writer ties it back to the trust and obedience of the verses before, and warns against separating the two.
This trust is inseparable from obedience: "He held fast to the LORD and did not depart from following Him, but kept the commandments that the LORD commanded Moses" (v. 6). Let us beware of so-called trust in God which links itself to disobedience of His Word. If I trust in Him, I will hold fast to Him; if I hold fast to Him, I will keep His Word... The result of Hezekiah's faith is soon clear: "The LORD was with him; wherever he went out, he prospered." What a happy circle of blessings! God's favour and spiritual prosperity accompany faithfulness.
How could a small kingdom defy an empire? The order of the verse answers: God's presence comes first, and the courage comes from Him.
Having sought the Lord in this way, it is not surprising that "the LORD was with him; wherever he went out, he prospered." Against this background "he rebelled against the king of Assyria and would not serve him." A king who trusted the Lord, and whom the Lord strengthened, could easily defy the mighty king of Assyria, even though he was weak in himself. Like his father David, he did not rely on his own strength when defying the mighty. He relied on the strength of the Almighty.
The subjection Hezekiah threw off came from his father's bargain, not from God. That history decides how the word "rebelled" should be read.
Hezekiah, it seems to us, acted according to God in not recognising this authority. It was not the same later on for Judah, when it had to do with Babylon... God had transferred the sovereignty to Nebuchadnezzar, and He was using that yoke as a judgment on Judah. So to revolt against Nebuchadnezzar was to revolt against God. In Hezekiah's case, he was refusing to grant the Assyrian an authority that God had not given him over Judah at that time. Hezekiah was God's servant and could not be the servant of the king of Assyria.
Another writer reads the move the same way — as a refusal to acknowledge something his father had wrongly agreed to.
The evil alliance with the king of Assyria, which his father had made, the God-fearing king refused to own. "He rebelled against the king of Assyria and would not serve him."
Not every writer treats the rebellion as pure faith. Commentators differ, and what followed explains why.
He had been drawn into this position of subjection by his ungodly father. I do not pretend to say that Hezekiah was quite right. There was a holy feeling behind it. But did he clearly see the chastening that God had put on Judah? That is another question. In any case, his rebellion against the king of Assyria brought him into serious trouble. God did show Himself wonderfully on his behalf, but not without great humiliation.
A third writer suggests the good king's zeal ran ahead of his faith.
It would seem that this effort to throw off the yoke of Assyria was too early, or perhaps the good king went beyond his faith. When Sennacherib invaded his kingdom, we are pained to read that he took all the fortified cities. His desire was right, but in his zeal for the prosperity and glory of his kingdom, he may have gone ahead of God's time. Because of their former sins, Israel had become subject to the Assyrian, whom God had called "the rod of His anger."
God's presence let Hezekiah do what the northern kingdom, carried away by Assyria in his own lifetime, could not do.
He held fast to the Lord, putting His interests first, keeping His commandments as declared in the law of Moses (v. 6). Therefore of course the Lord was with him, making him prosper in every undertaking. Also by the power of God he was able to do what the king of Israel could not do. He rebelled against the king of Assyria rather than serving him (v. 7).
Success brings its own danger, and Hezekiah met it.
Popularity, a great name like the name of the great men on the earth, is the result of the faith that, in the sense of his own nothingness, had to do with God... Hezekiah "was magnified in the sight of all nations from that time on"; yes — but, sadly, he was magnified also in his own sight. In all times of our prosperity let us say, "O Lord, hold me up!"
- Cause — Holding fast to God and keeping His Word came first; God's presence and blessing followed. Trust and obedience belong together.
- Gift — God's presence, not Hezekiah's resources, is the explanation. Weak in himself, he could face the strongest empire because he leaned on the Almighty.
- Reach — He prospered in every undertaking. God's presence let him do what the king of Israel could not.
- Freedom — The yoke he refused was his father's bargain, not God's appointment. Commentators differ on whether the timing was faith or zeal running ahead.
- Risk — The same prospering that came from a sense of his own nothingness later made him great in his own eyes. Prosperity needs the prayer, "O Lord, hold me up."
He smote the Philistines unto Gazah and its borders, from the watchmen's tower to the fortified city.
Hezekiah first cleared out what was wrong inside Judah, and only then pushed outward — driving Judah's army down the coast to Gaza, from the lone watchtower to the walled city. So how did so small a kingdom reach that far, and why was Philistia the target?
Just before this verse, Hezekiah stops serving Assyria. One writer ties the two together. He would not recognize Assyria's authority over him, and the victory over Philistia followed.
As we see it, Hezekiah acted according to God by not recognizing this authority... Hezekiah was God's servant and could not be the servant of the king of Assyria. And so victory over the Philistines (v. 8) comes to him as a result of his trust in God, which had led him to shake off this yoke.
Trust explains the man, not just this one victory:
Nothing describes Hezekiah's spiritual character more exactly or more powerfully than trust in God. And trust in God is the root of all that is blessed, I may say, in a believing man. There may be other qualities... but nothing can make up for lack of trust, for trust is the very thing that magnifies God and keeps us lowly before God.
Hezekiah's fighting comes second in the record, not first:
So, having set in order the spiritual matters of the kingdom, Hezekiah turned to the more material things in his dominion.
Philistia was not a distant foreign power. It sat inside the land itself, which made it a different threat from Egypt or Assyria.
They appear to me to represent the power of the enemy acting within the circle of God's people. They were in the territory of the Israelites — within the land... They were not, like the Egyptians or Assyrians, enemies from without. They were constantly hostile to Israel... and all the more dangerous because they were always close at hand, claiming the country as their own.
Gaza had changed hands again and again. Taking it was recovery, not fresh conquest:
The Anakim dwelt there, but Judah was able to take Gaza and the coasts of it (Joshua 11:22; Judges 1:18). By Samson's time, though, the Philistines held it, and they made him a prisoner there (Judges 16:21). Solomon later held it, 1 Kings 4:24... but Hezekiah had to take it again, 2 Kings 18:8.
Philistia celebrated when Ahaz died, thinking Judah's threat was over. Isaiah had warned them otherwise, and one writer sees this campaign as the answer.
This fulfilled what the prophet Isaiah had spoken in the year that King Ahaz died: "Rejoice not, O Philistia, all of you, that the rod that struck you [Uzziah] is broken [by the death of Ahaz]; for from the serpent's root [as they regarded him] will come forth an adder [Hezekiah], and its fruit will be a flying fiery serpent."
(Knapp cites Isaiah 14:29 from an older translation; the bracketed names are his.)
Commentators differ on how right this boldness was. Rossier defends the break with Assyria. Kelly is more cautious, weighing the size of the kingdom:
He did not only strike the Philistines. His kingdom had shrunk to so small a size — as I have said, Judah was very low — and he had enough on his hands already. Yet this little kingdom, with its lowly, pious king, dared to dispute the rights of the king of Assyria over him... I do not pretend to say that he was quite right. There was a holy feeling at the bottom of it.
The record to this point is all bright. One writer warns that it does not end there:
Bright, and only bright, would have been the portrait of this saint, had the record closed here... But the Spirit of God is a faithful biographer. The record He has given teaches two things at once. It answers both prayers: "Teach me what You are," and "Teach me what I am." Hezekiah has been proving the Lord. We have now to look at him in other circumstances proving himself.
- Trust is the root. Trust in God is Hezekiah's defining mark. Nothing else in a believer can make up for its absence.
- Trust cleans house first. He set the worship of God in order before he turned to the material affairs of his kingdom.
- Trust then takes ground. Hezekiah refused to serve Assyria because he belonged to God, and the victory over Philistia followed.
- Trust recovers what was lost. Judah took Gaza, Philistia seized it, Solomon held it, and Hezekiah had to take it back. The enemy inside the land keeps returning.
- Trust is still tested. The record here is bright, but it is not finished; the king who proved the Lord now had to prove himself.
And it came to pass in the fourth year of king Hezekiah, which was the seventh year of Hoshea the son of Elah, king of Israel, [that] Shalmaneser king of Assyria came up against Samaria and besieged it.
The verse dates the fall of the northern kingdom by two reigns at once: Hezekiah's fourth year in Judah, and Hoshea's seventh in Israel. The same Assyrian army that swallowed one kingdom would soon stand at the gates of the other.
Chapter 17 has already told the story of Samaria's fall. Dating it again by Hezekiah's reign sets Israel's end beside Judah's safety.
It was in the fourth year of Hezekiah that the king of Assyria began his siege of Samaria, taking the city captive in Hezekiah's sixth year. So the larger part of the nation Israel went into captivity. Judah and Benjamin came through safely, because the most faithful king was reigning over them at the time. Verse 12 repeats the reason for the captivity of the ten tribes. They did not obey the voice of the Lord their God, but transgressed His covenant conveyed to them through Moses. Not only did they not do what was commanded them: they would not listen.
Judah escaped Samaria's fate, but not because Judah was innocent. Under Hezekiah's father Ahaz, Judah was as guilty as Israel.
Judah had transgressed as well as Israel. The Lord has now prepared the Assyrian rod in righteous anger, and He raises it against Jerusalem as well as Samaria. The day of Ahaz there had been as the day of Hoshea here. But Hezekiah, who came after Ahaz, did what was right in the sight of the Lord. So the Lord argued with His rod, and the Assyrian did not prevail over Judah, as he had over Israel.
Hoshea was dealing with Egypt and Assyria at the same time. The prophet had already described that habit of playing both sides.
The prophet mentions this two-faced, suspicious conduct of the king: "Ephraim feeds on the wind and pursues the east wind all day long; they multiply falsehood and violence; they make a covenant with Assyria, and oil is carried to Egypt" (Hosea 12:1). He says again, "Ephraim is like a dove, silly and without sense, calling to Egypt, going to Assyria" (Hosea 7:11). So, discovering Hoshea's conspiracy, Shalmaneser "shut him up and bound him in prison."
This verse names Shalmaneser as the king who came up and laid siege. From the next verse on, the text uses only the title "the king of Assyria".
Notice that Shalmaneser's name appears only in these two passages. Afterwards the text uses the term "the king of Assyria". And in 2 Kings 18:10 it says, "at the end of three years they took it." This leaves room for Sargon, the next king of Assyria, to have finished the siege and to have carried away the captives. He came to the Assyrian throne in the year B.C. 722, and on his monuments he claims to have taken Samaria in his first year.
(Note: this argument rests on the older reading "they took it" in verse 10; the ESV renders it "he took it.")
Assyria's own inscriptions describe this siege.
From these inscriptions we learn that the siege of Samaria had lasted two years when Sargon succeeded Shalmaneser. Sargon took Samaria in the first year of his reign. The record here does not mention Sargon. Still, it is significant that it does not credit the capture of Samaria to Shalmaneser. These inscriptions say that Sargon captured Samaria, carried away 27,290 of its people, and appointed a governor over the city. What would these interesting ancient inscriptions mean if it were not for the Bible? Again we say they are proven true because the Word of God confirms them.
Israel's fall left its mark on Hezekiah himself.
God often allows things to happen to teach us to know our own hearts, so that we might have no confidence in them. Hezekiah's first false step comes in the very trust that marks his walk above all else. Israel's terrible disaster through Shalmaneser's invasion no doubt shook his confidence. But when Hezekiah saw all the cities of Judah fallen into the hands of the king of Assyria, his heart failed him.
- Dated twice — Hezekiah's fourth year and Hoshea's seventh mark the same siege, setting the two kingdoms side by side.
- Cause — Hoshea courted Egypt while under Assyria. The prophet had already named that double-dealing.
- Verdict — the ten tribes went into captivity because they did not obey the voice of the Lord and would not listen.
- Instrument — Shalmaneser begins the siege, but the text stops naming him. That leaves room for Sargon, whose monuments claim the city and count its captives.
- Contrast — Judah had sinned as Israel had, yet came through under a faithful king. Even so, Israel's collapse shook Hezekiah's own confidence.
And at the end of three years they took it; in the sixth year of Hezekiah, that is, the ninth year of Hoshea king of Israel, Samaria was taken.
This verse marks the fall of Samaria, the chief city of the northern kingdom, after a three-year siege. It dates that fall by the reign of Hezekiah, king in Jerusalem — so why is Israel's end measured by Judah's king?
The siege starts and ends inside Hezekiah's reign. That dating puts the two kingdoms side by side at the same hour.
Verses 9-11 refer to what we have already read in connection with Hoshea, king of Israel. It was in the fourth year of Hezekiah that the king of Assyria began his siege of Samaria, taking the city captive in Hezekiah's sixth year. So the larger part of the nation Israel went into captivity. Judah and Benjamin came through safely, because they had the most faithful king reigning over them at the time.
The book has already told this story in full. It comes up again here because of what happens next.
We get just a brief link back to the destruction of the other kingdom before we come to the attack on Jerusalem.
Some translations end this verse with "they took it" rather than "he took it." One writer reads that plural as a clue about who was actually leading Assyria when Samaria fell.
after-note: DELETE
Once the Assyrians had taken the king of Israel prisoner, "the king of Assyria overran the whole land, and went up against Samaria, and besieged it three years." Shalmaneser did not take the city himself. We are told, "And at the end of three years they took it." In the meantime Sargon had taken over from Shalmaneser, or was at least leading the army during a short gap between reigns.
Assyria's own records name that successor and supply the numbers the Bible does not give.
Shalmaneser besieged Samaria again about 723 B.C., but the city held out for three years, and Sargon finally took it. The people now went into captivity. One Assyrian inscription records Sargon's own words: "The city of Samaria I besieged, I captured; 27,280 of its inhabitants I carried away."
Those first six years of Hezekiah were not silent years for the north. Before Samaria fell, an appeal had already gone out to Israel.
This was a sweeping judgment of God against His people Israel, and the ten tribes have never returned to their land since that time. It seems this took place before the captivity. During the first six years of his reign in Judah, Hezekiah sent messengers to Israel to invite them to come to Jerusalem for his great Passover.
Judah was not innocent, and the same Assyrian power that swallowed Samaria came up against Jerusalem. The difference lay in the man on the throne.
Judah had sinned as well as Israel. The Lord has now prepared the Assyrian rod in righteous anger, and He raises it against Jerusalem as well as Samaria. The day of Ahaz in Judah had been like the day of Hoshea in Israel. But Hezekiah, who came after Ahaz, did right in the sight of the Lord. So the Lord contended with His rod, and the Assyrian did not overcome Judah as he had overcome Israel.
The people carried off that year disappeared from view. Commentators do not claim to trace them, but they do not treat them as finished.
When Israel was carried away, they were settled in Halah and in Habor by the river of Gozan, and in the cities of the Medes. So far as we know they never returned. No doubt some people found their way back in the days of Ezra and Nehemiah, and in the four hundred years that followed before the Lord appeared. But as a whole nation they are still widely called 'the Lost Tribes.' God knows where to find them when His set time of blessing arrives. The twelve tribes do still exist, and remnants of them will come into the land again.
Commentators differ on how that return will come. One writer holds that nothing short of a miracle can undo a scattering this wide:
Now that God has allowed this great scattering of the ten tribes, only a miraculous act of God at the end of the Tribulation will bring His people Israel back to their land.
- Dated — The siege ran from Hezekiah's fourth year to his sixth, Hoshea's ninth. Judah's calendar dates Israel's last day.
- Deserved — The fall was a sweeping judgment of God on His people, not just an Assyrian win.
- Delayed — The Lord raised the same rod over Jerusalem too. Hezekiah did right, and that, not Judah's innocence, is why the city stood.
- Detailed — The older reading "they took it" points past Shalmaneser to Sargon. His own inscription records the capture and 27,280 captives.
- Deferred — Hezekiah's Passover invitation reached them before the fall. They never returned, but God knows where to find them when His time of blessing comes.
And the king of Assyria carried away Israel to Assyria, and settled them in Halah and by the Habor, the river of Gozan, and in the cities of the Medes;
This verse closes the story of Israel, the northern kingdom. It stands inside the account of Hezekiah, a good king of Judah — which raises two questions: why repeat news the book has already given, and what happened to those tribes next?
The verse names several places. One of them lies in a very different direction from the rest.
2 Kings 18:10-11 gives a more definite date for the captivity of the rest of Israel. The Assyrians took Samaria after a three-year siege, in the ninth year of Hoshea, king of Israel, and the sixth year of Hezekiah — so 722 B.C. The captives were carried to Halah and Habor by the river of Gozan. (1 Chr. 5:26 mentions these same names and adds Hara.) These places are thought to lie in the north of Assyria. But the passage in Kings adds the words "and in the cities of the Medes." That region is much farther east. There they would be far away from their own people in Assyria, and from Judah, who were carried later to Babylon.
Shalmaneser began the siege. One writer notices that the wording changes when the city falls, and reads it as a change of ruler mid-siege. (His point rests on the older wording "they took it.")
The king of Israel was now a prisoner. "Then the king of Assyria invaded all the land and came to Samaria, and for three years he besieged it" (2 Kings 17:5; cf. 2 Kings 18:9). But Shalmaneser did not take the city himself, for we are told, "And at the end of three years they took it" (2 Kings 18:10). During this time Sargon (Isa. 20:1) had taken Shalmaneser's place, or at least was leading the army during a short gap between reigns.
The dates set the two kingdoms side by side at the same moment. One writer then names the reason Israel fell.
The king of Assyria began his siege of Samaria in the fourth year of Hezekiah, and took the city captive in Hezekiah's sixth year. So the larger part of the nation of Israel went into captivity, while Judah and Benjamin were kept safe by having the most faithful king reigning over them at the time. Verse 12 repeats the reason for the captivity of the ten tribes. They did not obey the voice of the Lord their God, but broke His covenant given to them through Moses. They not only failed to do what they were commanded: they would not listen.
Judah's safety was not innocence. The same Assyrian power soon came south against Jerusalem.
Whatever the case, we now have Assyria connected not simply with Judah — the conqueror of Israel comes up against Jerusalem. God had allowed Assyria to sweep away the ten tribes. Was there not enough wickedness in Judah for God to deal with now? We shall see how God acts, and how He answers faithfulness of heart and trust in Himself.
God set out the reasons for all this in writing. One writer shows what we are meant to do with them.
As He closes the story of the ten-tribe kingdom, God gives us a detailed list of the charges in 2 Kings 17:7-23, showing why He brought this kingdom to an end. He has placed it in His Word to warn us and teach us. We do well to look at it. Romans 11:20-21 tells us: "Do not become proud, but fear. For if God did not spare the natural branches, neither will He spare you."
The last king of the northern kingdom was named for deliverance, and delivered nothing.
Hoshea, whose name means deliverance, proved anything but that to his people. One alone will bring deliverance to the ten tribes. The ten tribes have never returned from their captivity, and they will not return until the Lord Himself brings them back in a day to come.
Yet being untraceable to us is not the same as being untraceable to God.
As far as we know they never returned. No doubt some people found their way back in the days of Ezra and Nehemiah, and in the four hundred years that followed before the Lord appeared. Jews from those districts were there on the day of Pentecost. But as a body they are still called 'the Lost Tribes.' God knows where to find them when His set time of blessing comes. The twelve tribes do exist, and a remnant of them will come into the land again.
- Cause. Assyria's strength did not end Israel. Israel would not obey God's voice, and broke the covenant He gave through Moses.
- Carried. Samaria fell after a three-year siege, about 722 B.C., in Hezekiah's sixth year. Writers differ on whether Shalmaneser or Sargon took the city.
- Cut off. Assyria settled the captives in Halah, by the Habor, and in the cities of the Medes — a far eastern region, away from their own people.
- Contrast. Judah stayed safe under its most faithful king in the very years Israel fell — mercy, not merit, for the same enemy soon marched on Jerusalem.
- Coming back. The ten tribes never returned, and people still call them "lost." Yet God knows where they are, and He will bring them back into the land Himself.
because they hearkened not to the voice of Jehovah their God, but transgressed his covenant, all that Moses the servant of Jehovah commanded; and they would not hear nor do it.
Here, in the middle of the record of a godly king's reign, God says why the northern kingdom fell: the ten tribes would not listen to Him. Why spell out the reasons at all, and what are His people meant to do with them?
God does not owe anyone an account of His actions. Yet He often gives one, and He gave one for the fall of the ten tribes.
While God has no obligation to explain to us why He does what He does, in His Word He often does. As He concludes the story of the ten-tribe kingdom, God gives us a detailed list of particulars in 2 Kings 17:7-23 as to why He brought this kingdom to an end. God has placed it in His Word for our warning and instruction. We do well to examine it. Romans 11:20-21 tells us: "Do not become proud, but fear. For if God did not spare the natural branches, neither will He spare you."
The same explanation already stood at the end of chapter 17. It comes back here because of the timing: Israel fell while Judah's most faithful king was on the throne.
In the fourth year of Hezekiah the king of Assyria began his siege of Samaria. He took the city captive in Hezekiah's sixth year. So the larger part of the nation Israel went into captivity. Judah and Benjamin were kept safe, because the most faithful king was reigning over them at the time. Verse 12 repeats the reason for the captivity of the ten tribes. They did not obey the voice of the Lord their God, but transgressed His covenant conveyed to them through Moses. They not only failed to do what was commanded; they would not even listen.
"His covenant" was the law God gave through Moses. It was a deal Israel bound themselves to, not a gift handed down.
It is the covenant of law, not the ways of grace. By this Israel had bound themselves. But they forgot it, broke it and despised it — dishonouring Him, and hurting themselves just as much. They hardly felt how serious it was when they promised to obey. They took no account at all of their own self-will and rebellion. The sad and sure result was their ruin... Israel showed their fatal error from the start. They offered to take their stand, and to rest their hope of blessing, not on the promises made to the fathers, but on their own keeping of the law.
The verse ends with the heaviest charge: they would not even hear. They were not short of warning.
God had warned His people over and over again through prophets and seers to turn from their evil ways and keep His commandments and statutes. But the people refused to hear. They had rejected His statutes and covenant and testimonies. They had followed the ways of the nations round about them and had sold themselves to do evil in the sight of the LORD, to provoke Him to anger.
A few verses earlier, the same commandments of Moses appear again — this time kept. Hezekiah trusted God, and that trust showed in what he did.
This trust is inseparable from obedience: "he held fast to the LORD. He did not depart from following him, but kept the commandments that the LORD commanded Moses" (v. 6). Let us beware of so-called trust in God which links itself to disobedience of His Word. If I trust in Him, I will hold fast to Him; if I hold fast to Him, I will keep His Word... Yes, trust, holding fast to the Lord, and obedience always go together. The result of Hezekiah's faith is soon apparent: "the LORD was with him; wherever he went out, he prospered" (v. 7).
God's judgment fell on Israel as a whole nation. What happened to them as individuals is another matter.
Finally He removed Israel out of His sight as a nation. Yet His full knowledge and His love know exactly where each individual is. Nor will He be frustrated in His purposes, which are secure in Christ.
- Heard. God spoke through Moses, and then through prophets for generations. Israel's fall began with a refusal to listen, not a shortage of warning.
- Bound. Israel bound themselves to the law. They rested their hope on their own obedience instead of on God's promises, and that choice ruined them.
- Broken. They did not just fail to obey. They would not even hear, and they lost the land.
- Held. In the same chapter, Hezekiah holds fast to those same commandments and prospers. Trust and obedience always go together.
- Written. God wrote the reasons down to warn us: do not become proud, but fear. No captivity defeats His purposes, which are secure in Christ.
And in the fourteenth year of king Hezekiah, Sennacherib king of Assyria came up against all the fortified cities of Judah, and took them.
Hezekiah spent fourteen years reforming Judah, and then Sennacherib took every fortified city he had. Why did the heaviest blow fall on a godly king just after his best years?
The date is not a throwaway detail. One writer defends it against the common claim that a scribe miscopied the number:
"Fourteenth" agrees with Isaiah 36:1; and it is the only number that will harmonize with Isaiah 38:5. It may be for lack of faith that men try hard to make Scripture square with secular history, or what claims to be history. A date in the Bible may not come out even with Babylonian or Assyrian chronology. It may disagree with some untrustworthy pagan inscription. At once commentators cry "Transcriber's error" — as if monuments and clay tablets that are only half read must correct the word of God!
The invasion came after the reform, not before it. That order looks backwards, and it handed Hezekiah's critics an easy argument:
A great work had been done throughout Judah, restoring the ruined features of the worship of the true God. Yet no sooner was it finished than the enemy came to swallow them up! People who judged by circumstances instead of Scripture would stumble at once. Was it not plain that Hezekiah had done wrong in rejecting the traditions of his fathers? Was God now chastening him and them for his rash reformation?
Another writer turns that timing into a warning for anyone enjoying a season of blessing:
One would have thought all was over — the idols broken, and plenty of fruit and good works... But after he is established in the indescribable grace of God, even then, as one may say, the real struggle begins... In the same way, Satan often brings up his armies in seasons of sweetest enjoyment. He camps around us and watches for every opportunity to win us to himself. It is very strange, but we often find it so, that we are more off our guard at such a time of blessing than at any other.
Why did God allow the invasion? Commentators answer in two ways. One separates Judah's case from Israel's:
The Lord did not send him because of any guilt on Judah's part, as was the case with Israel, but it was to be a test of the faith of the godly king Hezekiah.
Another reads it as the long tail of the nation's earlier sin still working itself out under God's government:
Because of their former sins, Israel had become subject to the Assyrian, whom God had called "the rod of His anger." They had now been restored to righteousness under Hezekiah. Even so, God in His wise yet gracious government may have seen fit to let them suffer for a while for their past. In this way they would fully realise, by bitter and humiliating experience, what a serious thing it is for a people to turn from the living God to idols.
Hezekiah answered the loss of his cities by buying the invader off. That was a step down from where he began:
For fourteen years he had walked with God and prospered. Then, for the first time, failure appears in his course. Instead of driving back the invasion of the king of Assyria, as he once would have done, he tries to buy it off. At the beginning of his reign, with no visible resources, he had freed himself from the king of Assyria and did not serve him. Now he is established in success and surrounded with power on every side. Yet he cannot hold that position, and he admits he is powerless. He had taken it when nothing but faith supported and authorised him.
Everything outside the walls was gone. One writer lists what they still had:
All Judah sacked, the Assyrian army besieging the only city still standing... Did they have any resource, this weak "remnant that is left"? Yes, indeed! They still had the Lord's temple, His beloved city, Mount Zion, the son of David and his throne, the prophet who carried the word of God. They still had far more than David himself had in the cave of Adullam! The flesh might lose heart; faith could not in any way.
One writer looks beyond this invasion to a future one:
The Assyrian who came in Isaiah's day to take Jerusalem is the type of the final Assyrian who threatens the land and the people with destruction.
- After. The attack comes after the revival, not before it. Blessing is no guarantee of calm. We drop our guard just when we feel most settled.
- Fourteenth. The date stands. It agrees with Isaiah's record, and a pagan inscription is no reason to rewrite Scripture.
- Rod. Commentators differ on the cause. One sees a test of a godly king's faith. Another sees the nation still bearing the weight of its old idolatry under God's government.
- Faltered. With no resources, the king refused to serve Assyria. With power on every side, he paid it off. His strength had been faith, not walls.
- Left. Only Jerusalem remained. The temple, the city, David's throne and the prophet's word were left — and that was more than enough for faith.
And Hezekiah king of Judah sent to the king of Assyria to Lachish, saying, I have sinned; retire from me I will bear what thou layest upon me. And the king of Assyria laid upon Hezekiah king of Judah three hundred talents of silver and thirty talents of gold.
Hezekiah had thrown off Assyrian rule. Now Sennacherib has taken every fortified city of Judah, and the king who trusted God sends a message of surrender to Lachish. He agrees to pay whatever Assyria demands. Was this humility, or was it a failure of the faith that had marked him from the start?
Hezekiah says "I have done wrong" — not to God, but to the invading king. One commentator takes the words as the king's own verdict on himself. He reads the tribute figure as a measure of what the misstep cost.
So I judge that we have his own confession. Whatever the piety of the king may have been, offence was mixed in with it. I do not think Hezekiah would have said, "I have done wrong," if God had been fully guiding him… This was a very heavy tax. It was a war tax. It was compensation for the trouble and expense the king of Judah had put him to… It was not the old tribute, but a great deal more. Such is the effect of an immature action even from a faithful man.
Commentators differ on where the failure began. One writer calls this Hezekiah's first false step, and traces it to fear.
Hezekiah takes his first false step in the very thing that marks his walk above all else — his trust… When he saw all the cities of Judah fall into the hands of the king of Assyria, his heart failed him… Fear gripped him. Like Peter, he looked at the wind and lost sight of the Lord. He compared himself to the king of Assyria, instead of comparing the king of Assyria to the Lord.
The same writer sets Hezekiah's fatal illness at this same moment. Two blows landed together.
By this fact, we can measure the depth of the trial this man of God had to pass through. On one side, the invasion of his whole country except for Jerusalem. On the other, a fatal illness — and this at the very time when he had restored the worship of the true God to his people, wiped out idolatry, and freed Judah from Assyrian bondage! No wonder his faith wavered under such a trial.
Hezekiah promised to bear whatever Assyria imposed. The next verses show where he found the money.
We never gain by hasty acts. We cannot deliver ourselves, and we are not meant to… Hezekiah suffered, and so did God's house — a grievous thing in his eyes… "At that time Hezekiah cut off the gold from the doors of the temple of the Lord, and from the pillars which Hezekiah king of Judah had overlaid." This was all the harder because he was the one who had sought to bring them back to something like their former splendour. Now it was all undone.
The invasion was not just politics. One writer suspects the revolt came too soon, and sees the nation still under discipline for sins committed long before Hezekiah's reforms.
It seems this attempt to throw off the yoke of Assyria came too soon; or perhaps the good king went beyond his faith… His desire was right. But in his zeal for the prosperity and glory of his kingdom, he may have gone ahead of God's time… Because of their former sins, Israel had become subject to the Assyrian, whom God had called "the rod of His anger." Even though Hezekiah had restored them to righteousness, God in His wise yet gracious government may have seen fit to let them suffer a while for their past. In this way they would fully realise, by bitter and humiliating experience, what a serious thing it is for a people to turn from the living God to idols.
Sennacherib took the silver and marched on Jerusalem anyway.
Hezekiah found that the tribute he sent to the king of Assyria was no guarantee of protection from attack. He could have kept the gold and silver, and Assyria still would not have defeated him — as he learned by experience when he trusted the Lord. The king of Assyria proved himself treacherous by sending a great army against Jerusalem.
Excavated inscriptions supply Sennacherib's side of this same transaction.
The explorations brought to light the annals of Sennacherib, written by himself or at his direction… His account of his first campaign, when a tribute satisfied him, matched 2 Kings 18 in the most striking way. The details agreed — the names of places, especially Lachish, and the amount of tribute received.
- Pressure. Invasion on one side and a fatal illness on the other made this the deepest trial of Hezekiah's life.
- Panic. Under that pressure he compared himself to Assyria instead of comparing Assyria to the Lord.
- Price. Panic cost him more than the old tribute, and it cost God's house the gold he himself had put on its doors.
- Pointlessness. The payment bought nothing; the enemy pocketed it and came for Jerusalem anyway.
- Purpose. Behind Assyria stood God's own hand. He was disciplining a nation for old idolatry, even under a good king.
And Hezekiah gave all the silver that was found in the house of Jehovah, and in the treasures of the king's house.
Sennacherib's armies have taken Judah's fortified cities. Hezekiah had restored the temple; now he strips it to pay the invader — faith, failure, or both?
The price was a heavy fine, and paying it meant undoing Hezekiah's own work on the temple. One writer ties the fine to Israel's earlier turn to idols:
Because of their former sins, Israel had become subject to the Assyrian, whom God had called "the rod of His anger." Under Hezekiah they were restored to righteousness. Even so, God in His wise and gracious government may have seen fit to let them suffer for a while for their past. In that way they might fully realise by bitter and humiliating experience what a serious thing it is for a people to turn from the living God to idols. So poor Hezekiah pays the heavy fine imposed on him — "three hundred talents of silver and thirty talents of gold." To get this enormous amount, he had to almost strip bare the house of God he had just restored. He stripped his own palace too, taking the treasures and utensils of silver and gold from both.
One writer sets this moment beside Peter walking on water and looking at the storm:
In His government, God allowed the king of Assyria to take the fortified cities of Judah. Good king Hezekiah had a moment of weakness. His eye was on the great forces of Sennacherib, like Peter with his eye on the strong wind. He "gave him all the silver that was found in the house of the LORD and in the treasuries of the king's house," and even stripped the doors of the temple to show that he was under the king of Assyria. It was indeed a moment of weakness, not the normal attitude of this godly man.
What is missing from the record is any prayer. Another writer notices the silence and compares it with what happens a chapter later:
We do not read that Hezekiah appealed to the Lord at this time, so this may have been a time when his faith wavered... This would be humiliating to him. We cannot help wondering whether he could have avoided it by earnestly asking the Lord to step in. Later he did ask, and the Lord worked a miracle: He delivered Jerusalem and sent the king of Assyria away in humiliating defeat.
The verse names two treasuries: God's house and the king's. They did not weigh the same for Hezekiah:
We never gain by hasty acts. Hezekiah had acted ahead of the Lord, at the wrong moment, and now he meets His rebuke and His chastening. "And Hezekiah gave him all the silver that was found in the house of the LORD." This was a sore trial to a pious man. It was not only that Hezekiah suffered, but God's house suffered — a grievous thing in his eyes. For Hezekiah, I am sure, the treasures of the king's house were small compared with the LORD's house. "At that time Hezekiah cut off the gold from the doors of the temple of the LORD, and from the pillars that Hezekiah king of Judah had overlaid." This was harder still. He himself was the man who had sought to bring them back to something like their former splendour, and now it was all undone.
The payment did not end the threat. One writer weighs what all this effort actually gained:
The pious king also did what he could to fortify himself. He sent the humblest message to the proud Assyrian, gave him all the silver in the LORD's house, and stripped off the gold from its doors and pillars for him. It was all in vain. There was little of the simplicity, strength, or wisdom of faith in all this. No wonder God's blessing was not with him there, and the enemy grew bold enough to demand everything.
Another writer goes further: the silver need never have left the temple.
Hezekiah might have kept the gold and silver, and Assyria still would not have defeated him. He learned this by experience as he trusted the Lord.
Hezekiah stood out for his trust, and trust is exactly where he slipped. One writer turns this into a warning for everyone:
So the truest saint, the man most known for his trust, may fail in that very thing. It is exactly where God gives us grace to stand out that we have to watch. Satan has a grudge against us. He will try to break us down in the very thing in which God has given us grace.
- Pressure. God's government let Sennacherib advance, so that a people who had turned to idols would learn by experience what that costs.
- Panic. Hezekiah had a moment of weakness. He watched the Assyrian army instead of God, and the record shows no prayer before he paid.
- Price. The temple silver went first. The grief was that God's house suffered — at the hand of the man who had restored it.
- Pointlessness. The payment bought nothing. Stripping the temple only emboldened the enemy to demand everything.
- Pattern. The man famous for trust failed in trust — the grace you are known for is the very point where you must watch.
At that time Hezekiah stripped the doors of the temple of Jehovah, and the posts that Hezekiah king of Judah had overlaid, and gave them to the king of Assyria.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And the king of Assyria sent Tartan and Rabsaris and Rab-shakeh from Lachish, with a strong force, against king Hezekiah, to Jerusalem. And they went up and came to Jerusalem. And when they were come up, they came and stood by the aqueduct of the upper pool, which is on the highway of the fuller's field.
Hezekiah had just emptied his treasury and stripped the temple doors to pay off Assyria. This verse shows what the money bought him. Not peace, but three of Sennacherib's highest officers marching up to Jerusalem with an army. They stop at a named spot outside the wall, and the whole scene turns on one question: where does Judah's trust lie?
The tribute in verse 14 was meant to make the invader go away. It did not.
The tribute Hezekiah sent to the king of Assyria was, he found, no guarantee of his protection from attack. Hezekiah might have kept the gold and silver and still not be defeated by Assyria, as he found by experience in trusting the Lord. The king of Assyria proved himself treacherous in sending a great army against Jerusalem.
Worse, the payment invited what followed. Sennacherib treated Hezekiah's submission as weakness worth testing.
Returning to the chapter before us, we find the king of Assyria refused to be put off. He liked his three hundred talents of silver and his thirty talents of gold well enough. And he saw that stripping the temple was only an encouragement to make greater demands. So he pushes his advantage... And so he decides to try. He sends the Tartan, the Rabsaris and the Rabshakeh from Lachish to King Hezekiah with a great army. The target now is not the fortified cities, but Jerusalem.
Tartan, Rabsaris and Rabshakeh are not personal names. They are ranks. Sennacherib sent the top of his army and his household as one delegation.
The king of Assyria had besieged and conquered Lachish. Now he sends his servants. The Tartan is the general at the head of his armies. The Rabsaris is the chief chamberlain, whose duties are not too well known. The Rabshakeh is the political head of the king's household and his spokesman on important occasions. They stand before Jerusalem, and Hezekiah's servants, Eliakim, Shebna and Joah come out to them. Apart from this moment, our account agrees almost word for word with the one in Isaiah 36 and 37.
The Rabshakeh does all the talking in the verses that follow. His command of Hebrew has led to a guess about his background.
This is a title. It means "chief cupbearer." Sennacherib sent the officer who held it to Jerusalem, along with the Tartan (general) and a Rabsaris. He was the chief spokesman. Because he could speak the Jews' language, he is thought to have been either a convert to the Jewish faith or a Jew who had abandoned it.
The conduit of the upper pool is more than scenery. Ahaz had already turned down God's word on that same spot thirty years earlier.
That was the place where Ahaz despised the gracious word of the Lord spoken through Isaiah some thirty years before. Now, in the same place, the Assyrian hurled rude insults at the Lord and the king.
The speech that follows this verse goes straight at Hezekiah's confidence. The Assyrian is shrewd about politics and blind about God.
There is a great deal of truth in the world's talk. So far Rabshakeh was quite right. The king of Egypt was only a reed; and the Assyrian could see very well how empty it was to trust Egypt. But the Assyrian could not see the wisdom of trusting in the Lord... Now you see how the world's wisdom becomes folly the moment it comes near God. Wise enough about Egypt — that was plain. But the moment he thinks of God: foolishness.
The Rabshakeh's taunt drew on Judah's own history. He had seen its high places and altars, and he drew his own conclusion.
But here is a very serious thing to consider. Judah's unfaithfulness had given the enemy an occasion to blaspheme the true God and to deny His existence. Since you had high places and altars, these were the Lord for you, he says. He knows the Lord only by the idols which Judah had made its gods. He had the right to say to them, You have the same kinds of gods I do, and you serve them in the same way.
- Paid, and still besieged. The silver and gold bought no protection; Hezekiah could have kept it all and been no worse off.
- Paid, therefore besieged. Stripping the temple told Assyria that more pressure would win more, so Sennacherib pressed harder.
- Ranks, not names. Tartan, Rabsaris and Rabshakeh are the general, the chief chamberlain and the king's spokesman. Sennacherib aimed his whole top table at one city.
- Old ground, old question. Ahaz had already refused God's word at the conduit of the upper pool. The place puts the same question to Judah: who do you trust?
- A blasphemy Judah had earned. Years of high places let the enemy speak of the Lord as one idol among many. Compromise handed him the taunt.
And they called to the king. Then came forth to them Eliakim the son of Hilkijah, who was over the household, and Shebnah the scribe, and Joah the son of Asaph, the chronicler.
Assyria's top officers stand outside Jerusalem's wall and call for the king, but Hezekiah does not come out. Three of his officials come out instead, and their names and offices carry far more weight than this one errand.
The three men Assyria sent to the wall each held high office:
The king of Assyria had besieged and captured Lachish. Now he sends his servants. First the Tartan, the general at the head of his armies. Then the Rabsaris (chief chamberlain), whose duties are not well known. Then the Rabshakeh, the political head of the king's household and his spokesman on important occasions. They stand before Jerusalem, and Hezekiah's servants — Eliakim, Shebna and Joah — come out to them.
Hezekiah did not go out to them himself:
The leader of the Assyrian army (called the Rabshakeh) called from outside Jerusalem to talk with Hezekiah. Hezekiah sent three of his trusted men to hear what the Rabshakeh had to say. Of course, walls and barred gates protected the city.
The man named first held the highest place, and Isaiah gives him a far larger future:
Son of Hilkiah, and chief of the household of Hezekiah… Eliakim must have held a high office. Scripture names him before the scribe and the recorder. In Isaiah 22 God calls him His servant. God would set Shebna aside, and clothe Eliakim and raise him up as governor. Eliakim was to have the key of David, and to open and shut with real power. He is here a type — a picture — of Christ when He comes to take His place over Israel.
Isaiah's words about this same man go far beyond any palace office:
"In that day I will call my servant Eliakim the son of Hilkiah… And I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David. He shall open, and none shall shut; and he shall shut, and none shall open"… Here we cannot fail to see the type — the picture — of Christ replacing the Antichrist.
The second man on the list came to the wall with God's judgment already spoken over him:
Treasurer to Hezekiah. God denounced him through the prophet Isaiah. It seems he later became scribe or secretary.
The charge against him was simple. He lived for himself:
The close of the chapter shows us the unworthy Shebna set aside. He had crept into the place of chief minister, next to the throne. He lived only for himself. Even beyond death he sought nothing but his own name and glory.
Judah's kings had faced God's word on this same spot before, about thirty years earlier:
That is the place where Ahaz despised the gracious word of the LORD spoken through Isaiah some thirty years before. Now, in that same place, the Assyrian hurled insults at the LORD and the king.
These three men did not handle the meeting well. When they asked Rabshakeh to switch languages, they handed him a new weapon:
It is true that Hezekiah's servants were weak here. Nothing could be won by trying to appease the enemies of the Lord. It is always good to remember that they are enemies. Ask no favours of them, and expect none. But these three men were alarmed. They feared the effect on the Jewish people, so they begged him not to speak in the Jews' language where the people could hear… That suggested an idea to him. It gave him a new weapon, a new argument, a new way of appealing to the people. He might never have thought of it if the fears of Hezekiah's servants had not put it into his head.
Hezekiah had already decided how the meeting would end. His men were to give no answer:
How, then, does Hezekiah meet all these proud words? With the silent dignity of faith. "The king's command was, 'Do not answer him.'" That was how the king carried himself in front of the people. In fact, that is always how faith carries itself: calm, composed and dignified before men, while ready at the same time to sink into the dust in humility before God.
- Summons. Assyria sends three top officers to the wall of Jerusalem: a general, a chamberlain and a spokesman. They call for the king himself.
- Servants. Hezekiah stays behind barred gates. He sends three trusted men out instead: Eliakim over the household, Shebna the scribe, and Joah the recorder.
- Spot. They stand where Ahaz once brushed aside God's word through Isaiah. Now the same ground hears the Assyrian insult God and the king.
- Stumble. Fear made these three men weak. Their plea to change the language only handed Rabshakeh a new weapon: he appealed straight to the people.
- Successor. Eliakim heads the list, and Isaiah 22 lifts him higher still. God clothes him and gives him the key of David, so that he opens and shuts and no one can reverse it. Shebna, who lived for his own name, comes down. Commentators see in that exchange a picture of Christ taking His place.
And Rab-shakeh said to them, Say now to Hezekiah, Thus says the great king, the king of Assyria What confidence is this wherein thou trustest?
The Assyrian army has taken Lachish, and now the king's spokesman stands before Jerusalem. He demands to know what Hezekiah is leaning on. The question sounds like a military assessment. It goes straight at the one thing the Assyrian cannot see — a king's trust in an invisible God.
Three Assyrian officials come to the wall. Only one of them speaks.
The king of Assyria, who had besieged and conquered Lachish, sends his servants. The Tartan is the general at the head of his armies. The Rabsaris is the chief chamberlain, whose duties are not well known. The Rabshakeh is the political head of the king's household and his spokesman on important occasions. They stand before Jerusalem, and Hezekiah's servants, Eliakim, Shebna, and Joah, come out to them.
The king of Assyria calls himself "the great king." His demand about trust comes from a mind that can picture only visible support.
The first part of the Rabshakeh's speech deals with Hezekiah's trust in the Lord. We have seen that trust marking his devotion... Here the enormous pride of the Assyrian comes into the open. Could Hezekiah, stripped of his territory, shut up in Jerusalem like a bird in a cage, resist the Assyrian army? The last thought that occurs to the enemy is that someone might trust in an invisible God. He never imagines that Hezekiah might live by other principles, or have other help than the world's.
Part of what the Assyrian says is true. Egypt was a broken support.
How little the natural man understands the ground of the trust of faith! You say you have "strategy and power for war." Nothing of the sort. It was God who had the strategy; it was God who had the power against the Assyrian... There is a great deal of truth in the world's talk. So far Rabshakeh was quite right. The king of Egypt was only a reed. The Assyrian could see very well how empty it was to trust Egypt. But he could not see the wisdom of trusting in the Lord... Wise enough about Egypt: that was plain. But the moment he thinks of God — foolishness.
The charge may have been aimed at something Hezekiah never claimed.
The Rabshakeh then declared that "the great king, the king of Assyria" demanded to know where Judah put its confidence. He accused Judah of speaking "mere words" in claiming they had plans and power for war. It may be a question whether Judah had said this or not... He assumed Judah might have enlisted Egypt for help, as Israel had done before. But Hezekiah had not expressed any confidence in Egypt.
The enemy could sneer at Judah's God because Judah's own history had blurred the difference between the Lord and the idols around them.
But here is a very serious thing to consider. Judah's unfaithfulness had given the enemy an occasion to blaspheme the true God and to deny His existence. Since you had high places and altars, these were the Lord for you, he says. He does not know the Lord except through the idols Judah had made its gods.
The Assyrian threw Hezekiah's own reform back at him as a charge. Hezekiah had pulled down the high places — the local shrines where people worshipped.
He did not realise that the very fact of Hezekiah's removal of the high places was evidence of his trust in the living God.
How does Hezekiah answer a speech like this?
This was indeed putting Hezekiah's faith to the test — faith must pass through the furnace. It will not do to say that we trust in the Lord; we must prove that we do, and prove it when everything seems to be against us. How, then, does Hezekiah meet all these lofty words? In the silent dignity of faith. "The king's command was, 'Do not answer him.'"
The taunt targeted Hezekiah, but it landed on God. He replied in His own time.
Rabshakeh, speaking to the men of Judah, accused Hezekiah of deceiving his own people by his confidence that the Lord would deliver them. Would the Lord deliver Jerusalem? Yes! Assyria soon found that the Lord, whom they claimed had sent them against Jerusalem, was a God of awesome power and judgment. He would judge them for their lying claim to represent Him. But He delayed His intervention for a time, as a test of Hezekiah's faith.
- The question: the Assyrian's demand exposes his own pride. It never crosses his mind that anyone could rest on an invisible God.
- The blindness: he was right about Egypt and wrong about the Lord. Worldly wisdom stays sharp until it reaches God. Then it turns to folly.
- The foothold: Judah's past unfaithfulness gave the enemy his opening to blaspheme. He knew the Lord only through the idols Judah had adopted.
- The evidence: the reform thrown at Hezekiah as a charge was in fact the proof of his trust in the living God.
- The answer: faith passes through the furnace and replies with silence. God Himself answered the challenge aimed at Him.
Thou sayest -- but it is a word of the lips -- There is counsel and strength for war. Now on whom dost thou rely, that thou hast revolted against me?
Sennacherib's officer Rab-shakeh stood outside Jerusalem and asked Hezekiah's men one question: what is this confidence resting on? The verse turns the siege into a contest of trusts: how do you answer a man who calls your faith mere talk?
Older translations read the taunt as a claim to have "counsel and strength for the war," which the officer dismisses as "mere words." He treats Hezekiah as a bluffer. But the sneer missed its target. Hezekiah never claimed that counsel and strength as his own.
How little the natural man understands the ground of the trust of faith! "And have counsel and strength for the war." Nothing of the sort. It was God who had counsel; it was God who had strength for the Assyrian... There is a great deal of truth in the world's talk. So far Rab-shakeh was very right. The king of Egypt was only a reed. The Assyrian could see very well how empty it was to trust Egypt. But the Assyrian could not see the wisdom of trusting in Jehovah... now you see how the world's wisdom is folly whenever it comes near to God. Wise enough about Egypt — that was plain. But the moment he thinks of God, foolishness.
The officer's question assumes the answer must be an ally you can see, and that Hezekiah's revolt had a visible backer. His assumption tells us more about him than about Hezekiah.
after-note: DELETE
Here the Assyrian shows his overwhelming pride. Hezekiah had lost his territory and was shut up in Jerusalem like a bird in a cage. Could he resist the army of the Assyrian? The last thought that occurs to the enemy is that a man may trust in an invisible God. It never crosses his mind that Hezekiah might have other governing principles, other help than the world's. If he were trusting in someone, it must be Egypt. Egypt was exactly the enemy his campaign was aimed at, and he thought Hezekiah had revolted because he was expecting Egypt's help... The world can never understand that Christians are not seeking to be allied with the world.
Rab-shakeh was not the first to call God's promises empty talk. Pharaoh said the same of the message Moses brought him.
He knew nothing of "the LORD, the God of the Hebrews" — the great "I AM." So he treated everything Moses and Aaron had said to him about sacrificing to God as "vain words." The things of God must always seem empty, useless and meaningless to the unsanctified mind of man. People may use His name as part of the flippant vocabulary of a cold and formal religion, but they do not know Him. To a believer's heart His precious name holds everything he could ever need or desire. To an unbeliever it has no meaning, no power, no value.
Behind the diplomacy, the whole speech is one long boast. The officer puts himself in the place of God.
If I may summarise the speech of Rab-shakeh, he says to them, "It is no use relying on the LORD. If Hezekiah tells you that you may rely on the LORD he is deceiving you... I am the one who is mighty and I am resolved to take you to a land better than yours. Nobody has been able to resist me, so I am the lord, and the LORD you are relying on is nothing."
Hezekiah did not argue back. One writer reads that silence as faith under test.
This was indeed putting Hezekiah's faith to the test — faith must pass through the furnace. It will not do to say that we trust in the Lord; we must prove that we do, and that when everything seems to be against us. How, then, does Hezekiah meet all these lofty words? In the silent dignity of faith. "The king's command was, 'Do not answer him.'" That was how the king carried himself in the eyes of the people. And that is always the bearing of faith: calm, self-possessed, dignified in front of men. At the same time, faith is ready to sink into the dust of self-abasement before God.
The same counsel is drawn out as advice a reader can take for himself:
His trust in God was being questioned by the enemy, who was defying and mocking him. What should he do? Let the enemy talk, but himself keep quiet, looking humbly to God... Let him say so, Hezekiah, and just trust in your God whom the enemy does not know!
- Charge. The officer calls Hezekiah's confidence mere talk. Pharaoh said the same of Moses. That is the standing verdict of a mind that does not know God.
- Owner. Hezekiah never claimed counsel and strength for himself. Both belonged to God, so the taunt hit nothing.
- Blind spot. The Assyrian was shrewd about Egypt and foolish about God. Worldly wisdom turns to folly the moment it comes near Him.
- Rival. Trust in an invisible God never crosses his mind, so he offers himself instead as the power worth trusting.
- Answer. Faith proves itself under test by silence before men and self-abasement before God.
Now behold, thou reliest upon the staff of that broken reed, upon Egypt, on which if a man lean, it goes into his hand and pierces it so is Pharaoh king of Egypt to all that rely upon him.
Rabshakeh, an Assyrian officer, stands outside Jerusalem's wall. He demands to know what Hezekiah is relying on, then answers his own question: Egypt. His insult turns on a picture: a walking stick made of a cracked reed. It fails the man leaning on it, and drives a splinter through his hand.
The Assyrian can only picture help that he can count. So he names the one ally that makes sense to him.
The enemy's very last thought is that a man may trust in an invisible God. He never imagines that Hezekiah might have other governing principles, other help than that of the world. If he were trusting in someone, it must be in Egypt.
The speaker is not wrong about Egypt. He is only wrong about God.
There is a great deal of truth in the world's talk. So far Rabshakeh was quite right. The king of Egypt was only a reed. The Assyrian could see very well how empty it was to trust Egypt. But he could not see the wisdom of trusting in the LORD... Wise enough about Egypt: that was plain. But the moment he thinks of God — foolishness.
The picture is not of a support that gives way. It is of a support that wounds the man who leaned on it. And the verse ends with a rule for everyone who trusts Pharaoh, not for Hezekiah alone.
Egypt gave no help to Israel. It only wounded them badly, like a staff that breaks under the weight of the man leaning on it and pierces his hand. Whenever God's people turn to Egypt for help and form ungodly alliances, they do so to their own hurt and shame. Egypt is the picture of the world.
The charge missed the king himself. Still, Rabshakeh had not made it up out of nothing.
He mixed truth into insolent, deceitful, and profane reproach of every kind. There were those (not Hezekiah) who really did look to Egypt for help. But the aim of it all was to drive the Jews to despair, and to carry out the designs of Assyria.
Another writer traces where the guess came from:
He assumed Judah might have enlisted Egypt for help, as Israel had done before (ch.17:4). But Hezekiah had not expressed any confidence in Egypt.
The king was not leaning on Egypt. But his trust had already faltered in another direction.
Israel's terrible disaster through Shalmaneser's invasion no doubt shook his confidence. Then Hezekiah saw all the cities of Judah fall to the king of Assyria, and his heart failed him... Fear gripped him. Like Peter, he looked at the wind and lost sight of the Lord. He compared himself to the king of Assyria, instead of comparing the king of Assyria to the Lord.
Egypt was not a neutral choice. It was the country God had rescued them from.
This reliance on Egypt was especially offensive to God. He had delivered them from that very people by His judgments at the start of their national history. It is just as offensive to God when a Christian goes back to the world-system. God delivered him from it and from its coming judgment. Yet he leans on its power or its wisdom, instead of finding his resource in God as emergencies arise.
Hezekiah's order was to say nothing back. One writer takes that, and what the king did next, as the pattern for any believer under pressure.
"Do not answer him," and "spread it before the LORD." Silence and prayer. When Satan throws out a flood of unbelieving questions, do not answer him, but spread it all out before the Lord. Nothing at such a time can hold up the soul except complete dependence on God... And the Lord did hear, and did save, and did deliver.
- The reed — Egypt is a staff of cracked cane. It promises support, collapses under weight, and drives a splinter into the hand.
- The wound — leaning on the world does not just disappoint. It injures. Those who turn to it for help do so "to their own hurt and shame."
- The half-truth — the enemy was right about Egypt and wrong about God. The world can spot a false hope and still call real faith foolishness.
- The misfire — Hezekiah was not leaning on Egypt. His real slip was fear: he measured himself against the enemy instead of measuring the enemy against the Lord.
- The answer — silence toward the accuser, and everything spread out before God. The reed pierces. Only complete dependence holds — and the Lord heard, and saved, and delivered.
And if ye say to me, We rely upon Jehovah our God is it not he whose high places and whose altars Hezekiah has removed, saying to Judah and Jerusalem, Ye shall worship before this altar in Jerusalem?
Rabshakeh, the spokesman of the king of Assyria, stands outside the walls of Jerusalem. He turns Hezekiah's greatest reform into evidence against the king: if you trust the LORD, why did you pull down His high places and His altars? The taunt raises the question behind the whole siege. Who truly knows the God of Israel, and what does trust in Him look like?
The act Rabshakeh held up as proof of disloyalty was the king obeying a command of God. One writer points to the passage Hezekiah was following:
Rabshakeh's words sounded very plausible. He knew how weak Egypt was, and the Jews were inclined to trust Egypt. Isaiah had already warned the people about it. He completely misread Hezekiah's action in destroying the high places. Far from being an offence against the Lord, it was full obedience to His word in Deuteronomy 12:1-6. So many earlier kings, even the good ones, had overlooked this commandment of the Lord. Hezekiah had been obedient and faithful.
Notice the method. Truth and lies are mixed, and the king's best deed becomes robbery of God:
Insults, lies, and irreverent abuse of every kind are mixed here with some truth. There were people (not Hezekiah) who did look to Egypt for help. But the aim of it all was to drive the Jews to despair and to carry out the designs of Assyria. So the king's own piety, his zeal for Jehovah in throwing down the altars of false gods, is cunningly twisted into a charge of robbing Jehovah of His honour. And it was Jehovah, he pretended, who had given his master orders to come up against Hezekiah. The enemy knows how to give his own wicked schemes a religious look, as easily as he can blacken the most faithful of God's servants. What a mercy to have the unerring standard of His word to test and be tested by!
Behind the taunt lies real ignorance. Rabshakeh judged Israel's God by the only kind of religion he knew:
Rabshakeh could not tell the difference between the idols and Jehovah. To him Jehovah was only an idol, one out of many. Since Hezekiah had broken down all the idols, he imagined these were different forms of Jehovah's worship. That was the heathen idea of God… So he taunts king Hezekiah's ministers with having destroyed the worship of Jehovah.
The nation's own past handed him the argument:
But here is a very serious thing to consider. The unfaithfulness of Judah had given the enemy an occasion to blaspheme the true God and to deny His existence. Since you had high places and altars, these were the Lord for you, he says. He does not know the Lord except by the idols which Judah had made its gods. He had the right to say to them, You have the same kinds of gods I do, and you serve them in the same way.
The reform left one altar standing in Jerusalem:
Hezekiah had honoured God by destroying this idolatrous worship and returning to the true worship of having one altar, a symbol of Christ.
The accusation runs backwards. The same writer states the reversal:
He did not realise that the very fact of Hezekiah's removal of the high places was evidence of his trust in the living God.
The enemy could not imagine trust in a God no one can see. One writer brings that into the present:
The last thing that occurs to the enemy is that someone may trust in an invisible God. It never crosses his mind that Hezekiah might have other governing principles, other help than that of the world… The world can never understand that Christians are not seeking an alliance with the world. And there is nothing surprising in this scepticism when we look at the condition of Christendom all around us. Is religion threatened with danger? Is it under attack or persecution? The Christian world at once turns to the governments of this world to escape it or to be rescued from it… The unbeliever is justified when he says to us, "But 'if you say to me, We trust in the LORD our God' — in actual fact, you are not trusting Him any more than we are!"
Hezekiah's answer to the charge was not argument:
The enemy was questioning his trust in God, defying him and mocking him. What should he do? Let the enemy talk, but himself keep silent, looking humbly to God. The enemy was saying, The Lord is with me against you. Let him say so, Hezekiah, and just trust in your God whom the enemy does not know!
- Obedience misread. Taking away the high places obeyed Deuteronomy 12:1-6. It was no insult to God. The enemy read the best act of the reign as the worst.
- Disobedience exploited. Judah's earlier unfaithfulness gave the enemy his opening. He knew the Lord only by the idols Judah had made. So he could claim their God and his were alike.
- Obedience as proof. Removing the shrines was the very proof that Hezekiah trusted the living God. The one altar left standing pictured Christ.
- Obedience unrecognised. The world cannot grasp trust in a God it cannot see. A church leaning on worldly support makes that doubt sound reasonable.
- Obedience silent. Hezekiah let the taunt stand and looked to God, trusting the One his accuser did not know.
And now, engage, I pray thee, with my master the king of Assyria, and I will give thee two thousand horses, if thou canst set the riders upon them.
Sennacherib's army surrounds Jerusalem, and his spokesman the Rabshakeh makes a strange offer: two thousand horses, if Judah can find riders for them. Behind the sneer lies a real question — what is a people to do when the enemy can count its soldiers and cannot see its God?
The offer is a trap dressed as a gift. It works on two feelings at once.
The Rabshakeh offered then a bribe of 2000 horses if Judah would pledge allegiance to the king of Assyria (v.23). He adds a warning. They could not drive back even one Assyrian captain, even if they trusted Egypt. So he knew how to appeal both to their greed and to their fear.
The point of the wager is that Judah has no cavalry to put on the horses. That jibe has outlived Assyria; it is still aimed at anyone whose strength is out of sight.
He dwells in you, and you in Him; that is where the world has no knowledge, and that is how the world is no match for a Christian. It does not know his resources. No — it will taunt him about it, just as the Rabshakeh taunted Hezekiah when he said, "I will give you two thousand horses, if you are able on your part to set riders on them."
The same speech mocks Judah for leaning on Egypt. On that score the Assyrian was correct — Egypt was worthless. His error came one step later.
There is a great deal of truth in the world's talk. So far the Rabshakeh was very right. The king of Egypt was only a reed, and the Assyrian could see clearly the emptiness of trusting Egypt. But the Assyrian could not see the wisdom of trusting in the Lord... You see how the world's wisdom becomes folly the moment it draws near to God. Wise enough about Egypt — that was plain. But the moment he thinks of God, foolishness.
Why offer horses at all? Because horses are the only help the Rabshakeh can imagine. In his mind, a king with no cavalry must be leaning on someone else's.
Hezekiah had lost his land and was shut up in Jerusalem like a bird in a cage. Could such a man resist the Assyrian army? The last thing the enemy thinks of is that a man may trust an invisible God. It never crosses his mind that Hezekiah might live by other principles, with other help than the world's. If he were trusting in someone, it had to be Egypt.
Scripture had already settled what a war-horse is worth. Israel's kings were even told not to collect them.
Israel's king was warned not to gather horses for himself, nor wives, nor gold (Deuteronomy 17:14-20)... Solomon himself tells us in Proverbs 21:31 that "the horse is made ready for the day of battle." He adds what he later quite forgot: "but the victory belongs to the Lord."... But David wrote before Solomon began to reign, "The war horse is a false hope for salvation, and by its great might it cannot rescue" (Psalm 33:17)... In days of danger the Lord is worth more to His people than regiments of cavalry.
On the surface, the Rabshakeh's sums added up. That is what makes the next scene worth looking at.
Note, then, this remarkable scene. Go to the sanctuary. There you see one poor, weak, lonely man on his knees, pouring out his soul to Him who dwelt between the cherubim. No military preparations, no reviewing of troops... everything looks like weakness. On the other side, see a mighty conqueror leading a huge army flushed with victory, all of them eager for plunder. Surely, one might say, humanly speaking, it is all over with Hezekiah and Jerusalem.
Hezekiah never takes the bet, and he never argues back.
His trust in God was being questioned by an enemy who was defying and mocking him. What should he do? Let the enemy talk, and keep quiet himself, looking humbly to God. The enemy was saying, The Lord is with me against you. Let him say it, Hezekiah, and simply trust in your God, whom the enemy does not know.
- Bribe — Two thousand horses, offered for Judah's allegiance, aimed at greed and fear at once.
- Blind — The enemy offers horses because horses are all he can count. Trust in an invisible God never crosses his mind.
- Half-right — He is right about Egypt and wrong about God. The world's wisdom turns to folly the moment it touches God.
- Worthless — Two thousand horses for nothing would still be a false hope. In danger the Lord is worth more than regiments of cavalry.
- Quiet — One man on his knees against a victorious army looks like certain defeat. His answer is not argument but silence and trust.
How then wilt thou turn away the face of one captain of the least of my master's servants? And thou reliest upon Egypt for chariots and for horsemen!
Rabshakeh, the Assyrian king's spokesman, stands outside Jerusalem's wall and lists every reason Hezekiah should surrender. Now he counts up the odds: one junior officer of Sennacherib's army against all the horsemen Judah can muster — so where is Judah's strength?
The Assyrian assumes Hezekiah must be leaning on some visible power. Egypt is the only one he can think of.
Here the Assyrian lays bare his formidable pride. Hezekiah had lost his territory and was shut up in Jerusalem like a bird in a cage. Could he resist the Assyrian army? The last thought that occurs to the enemy is that someone may trust an invisible God. He cannot imagine that Hezekiah has other governing principles, other help than the world's. If he were trusting in someone, it must be in Egypt.
The offer just before this verse — horses supplied free, if Judah can find men to ride them — is not generosity. It works on two feelings at once.
The Rabshakeh then offered a bribe of 2,000 horses if Judah would pledge allegiance to the king of Assyria (v. 23). He adds a warning. They would not be able to drive off even one captain of the Assyrians, though they put their trust in Egypt. So he knew how to appeal both to their greed and to their fear.
The horses in the taunt carry their own sting. Israel was never meant to own them, and Egypt was where they came from.
Horses were forbidden to Israel (Deuteronomy 17:16). They were brought from Egypt (1 Kings 10:28)… The Assyrian armies were famous for horses (1 Kings 20:20, 25; 2 Kings 18:23).
Rabshakeh's assessment of Egypt is accurate. His blunder comes the moment he turns the same reasoning on Israel's God.
How little the natural man understands the ground on which faith rests! "Do you think that mere words are strategy and power for war?" Nothing of the sort. It was God who had the counsel; it was God who had the strength against the Assyrian. This proud servant of a proud king says, "Behold, you are trusting now in Egypt, that broken reed of a staff, which will pierce the hand of any man who leans on it." There is a great deal of truth in the world's talk. So far Rabshakeh was quite right. The king of Egypt was only a reed. The Assyrian could see how empty it was to trust Egypt. But he could not see the wisdom of trusting the Lord… Wise enough about Egypt: that was plain. But the moment he thinks about God — foolishness.
Egypt was no neutral ally. God had rescued His people out of Egypt, which is what makes running back to it for horses so serious.
This reliance on Egypt was especially offensive to God. He had delivered them from that very people by His judgments, at the start of their national history. God has delivered the Christian from the world-system and from its coming judgment. It is equally offensive to Him if that Christian goes back to the world, relying on its power or its wisdom instead of finding his resource in God as emergencies arise.
Hezekiah's people never replied to the arithmetic. That silence was ordered, and it was the right weapon.
Do we need to reason with him, to enter into argument, or even conversation, or to answer him at all? Our first parents proved the point only too well, to their own ruin and that of their descendants. The man of faith is not tempted to answer him. "But the people were silent and answered him not a word, for the king's command was, 'Do not answer him.'" It is only a matter of keeping quiet and leaving the enemy to his threats or his sweet words… God uses this open attack of the Assyrian against Himself and against His anointed to strengthen and revive the people.
- Trust questioned. The Assyrian hunts for the visible power Hezekiah leans on. That he trusts an invisible God never enters his mind.
- Trust priced. He offers horses as a bribe and one captain as a threat, hitting greed and fear at once — yet horses were forbidden to Israel from the start.
- Trust half-understood. The world can be right that Egypt is a broken reed and wrong in the same breath about trusting God.
- Trust misplaced. Going back for help to the power God rescued you from is what offends Him — then and now.
- Trust silent. The people answered not a word, and God used the attack itself to strengthen and revive them.
Am I now come up without Jehovah against this place to destroy it? Jehovah said to me, Go up against this land and destroy it.
Sennacherib's field commander has already mocked Judah's hope of help from Egypt. Now he plays his highest card: the God of Israel Himself, he says, ordered this invasion — so what happens to a man who uses God's name falsely?
Rabshakeh's earlier arguments were not stupid. One writer notes that the enemy judged Judah's politics well enough. He only lost his footing when the subject turned to God.
There is a great deal of truth in the world's talk. So far Rab-shakeh was very right. The king of Egypt was only a reed. The Assyrian could see very well the emptiness of trusting in Egypt. But the Assyrian could not see the wisdom of trusting in Jehovah. "But if you say to me, We trust in Jehovah our God" — now you see how the world's wisdom is folly whenever it comes near to God. Wise enough about Egypt: that was plain. But the moment that he thinks of God — foolishness.
Verse 25 is the third and boldest step in a build-up. The same writer notes that more than three officials heard it.
He takes first the folly of trusting in Egypt, and there he was right. Second, that they had only to look for Jehovah's vengeance, since they had been destroying Jehovah's altars. Third, that he had come up as a servant of Jehovah to do His will and to avenge Himself on Jerusalem… But it was not merely Eliakim and Shebna and Joah who heard; it was Jehovah. Rab-shakeh had no idea that the Lord God was listening. He had no idea that the Lord God would answer quickly. For he had now dared to use that name for deliberate blasphemy. He had dared the authority of Jehovah where it was known. He had dared God!
Rabshakeh spoke Hebrew. That has led some to think he knew Israel's Scriptures from the inside.
Rab-shakeh is a title, meaning 'chief cup-bearer.' Sennacherib sent this officer to Jerusalem, and he was the chief spokesman. Because he could speak the language of the Jews, some think he was either a convert to the Jewish faith or a Jew who had abandoned it. If so, he may have known Isaiah 10:5-6, for he says, "Moreover, is it without the LORD that I have come up against this place to destroy it? The LORD said to me, 'Go up against this land and destroy it.'"
God really was using Assyria. But a tool God uses is not a servant God sends, and that difference decided Assyria's fate.
God used Assyria as the rod of His anger to discipline Israel (Isaiah 10:5-6) and other nations. But Assyria was only the instrument in God's hand for carrying out His judgments. He did not understand this, so he boasted as if his own power made him so successful in his military campaigns… Therefore the Lord said, "Shall the axe boast itself against him who chops with it?… as if the rod should shake itself against him who lifts it up."
Verse 25 adds one more pressure — the suggestion that heaven had changed sides. One writer draws the line straight into the present.
More than this, he wanted them to think that even the Lord was against them, for he tells them that the Lord told him to go against the land and destroy it (v.25). So, in common with many religious men today, he did not hesitate to use the Lord's name deceitfully.
Jerusalem was not rescued that hour. The silence had a purpose, and so did the eventual reply.
Would the Lord deliver Jerusalem? Yes! Assyria soon found that the Lord they claimed had sent them against Jerusalem was a God of awesome power and judgment. He would judge them for their deceitful claim to represent Him. But He delayed His intervention for a time, as a test of Hezekiah's faith.
- Instrument. God really did use Assyria as the rod of His anger. That much of the boast rested on Isaiah 10.
- Overreach. A tool that boasts has forgotten it is a tool. The axe cannot boast against the man who chops with it.
- Blasphemy. Rabshakeh claimed God had sent him. That turned his speech into deliberate misuse of God's name — a trick many religious people still use.
- Listener. Rabshakeh aimed his speech at three officials on a wall. But God Himself was listening, and that settled the outcome.
- Answer. God delayed, testing Hezekiah's faith, then judged the very power that had claimed to speak for Him.
And Eliakim the son of Hilkijah, and Shebnah and Joah said to Rab-shakeh, Speak, we pray thee, to thy servants in Syriac, for we understand it, and talk not with us in the Jewish [language] in the ears of the people that are on the wall.
Three of Hezekiah's officials break in on the Assyrian spokesman. Switch languages, they ask, so the crowd on the city wall cannot follow. The small move shows what they feared, how the enemy read them, and who else was listening.
The request turns on a real difference between two languages. The officials knew Aramaic. Most of the people on the wall did not.
In 2 Kings 18:26, Ezra 4:7 and Isaiah 36:11 the word appears as "the Syrian language" or "tongue"… Aramaic is the language of Aram. It covers the language of Chaldea and that of Syria. Mesopotamia, Babylonia and Syria were its proper home… In 2 Kings 18:26 and Isaiah 36:11 the heads of the people asked Rabshakeh to speak to them in Aramaic. That way the uneducated would not understand what was said.
The ESV calls it "the language of Judah"; other translations say "the Jews' language". Neither is the name we use today.
The term Hebrew language does not, however, occur in the Old Testament. There it is called the language of the Jews, as in 2 Kings 18:26, or the lip of Canaan, as in Isaiah 19:18.
The three men are not acting in faith. They are managing a crisis, and they start by asking a favour of the enemy.
It is true the servants of Hezekiah were rather feeble. Pleading with the enemies of the Lord wins nothing. It is always well to remember that they are enemies. Ask no favours of them, and expect none. But these three men were alarmed. They were afraid of the effect on the Jewish people, so they begged him not to talk in the Jews' language where the people could hear… It gave him a new weapon, a new argument, a new way of appealing to the people. He might not have thought of it if the fears of Hezekiah's servants had not put it into his head. The very thing they feared, and asked him not to do, gave him the idea of doing it.
The man they are pleading with is a professional. "Rabshakeh" is his office, not his personal name, and he hears in their request exactly what they did not mean to tell him.
Rabshakeh (a title, not a name), Sennacherib's commander-in-chief, was the speaker. He was a skilled diplomat, and delivered his crafty speech in "the Jews' language."… They little knew the cunning Rabshakeh. He gained an advantage from their fear… He does his best to frighten the ordinary people. He hoped to stir up rebellion in the city, and so take it without a siege.
By limiting the audience they showed him where the weak point lay. He shifted his attack from the officials to the crowd behind them.
The three servants of Hezekiah asked Rabshakeh to speak in the Aramean language. They did not want the common people to hear his words in Hebrew (v. 26). They should have realised their request would be useless. In fact it only encouraged Rabshakeh to speak louder to all the people on the wall… If he could not persuade the leaders of the people, he would do his utmost to weaken the people themselves.
The danger they feared was real. Faith meets that same danger another way.
Rabshakeh speaks in Hebrew to the people on the wall. Hezekiah's servants beg him to speak in the Syrian language. He refuses with words of defiance and contempt. The danger of seeing the people become discouraged may have filled Hezekiah with anguish. But the same danger leaves the believer's soul calm and at peace. He has only to keep silence. His trust in God answers everything.
The officials worried about who on the wall could hear. One listener never entered their calculations.
Eliakim and the others begged him to speak Aramean instead of the Jewish tongue. Their pleas only drew out more daring insolence… The blasphemer taunted them, asking whether the Lord would deliver Jerusalem. He never thought who was listening. Not only Eliakim, Shebna and Joah, not only the men on the wall, but the Lord Himself heard him. It was now His affair. Then at last the faith of Hezekiah begins to shine again, for it was his command not to answer him.
- Languages. Aramaic belonged to Syria and Babylonia, and only the educated knew it. The "Jews' language" is what we call Hebrew, the speech of everyone on the wall.
- Fear speaks first. The three officials feared what the speech would do to the people, so they asked a favour of an enemy. Ask no favours of enemies, and expect none.
- Fear arms the enemy. Their fear handed a trained negotiator a new weapon. He shouted louder instead, shifting his attack from the leaders to the ordinary people.
- Faith keeps silence. The same danger that brings anguish leaves a trusting soul calm. Hezekiah's answer was to say nothing and leave it with God.
- Someone else was listening. Changing the language could not change the real audience. The Lord Himself heard the taunt, and from then on it was His affair.
And Rab-shakeh said to them, Is it to thy master and to thee that my master sent me to speak these words? Is it not to the men that sit on the wall, that they may eat their own dung and drink their own urine with you?
Two Assyrian officers and a king's spokesman stand outside Jerusalem's wall. Hezekiah's ministers ask them to switch to a language the crowd cannot follow, and the refusal that comes back shows who the spokesman is really aiming at.
"Rabshakeh" is not a personal name. Writers note it is an office, and that his fluency in Hebrew is itself a puzzle worth asking about.
This is a title. It means 'chief cup-bearer.' Sennacherib sent the officer who held it to Jerusalem, along with the Tartan (general) and a Rab-saris. He was the chief spokesman. Because he could speak the Jews' language, people think he was either a convert to the Jewish faith or a Jew who had abandoned it.
The language in question was everyday Hebrew, and he chose it on purpose.
The Hebrew language, common to the Jews. Rab-shakeh was asked to speak in the Syrian language (Aramaic). But he wanted the people of Jerusalem to understand him, so he spoke in Hebrew.
The three officials were afraid, and their fear showed the enemy where to press.
There was nothing to be gained by pleading with the enemies of the Lord. It is always good to remember that they are enemies. Ask no favours of them, and expect none. But these three men were alarmed. They were afraid of the effect on the Jewish people, so they begged him not to talk in the Jews' language where the people could hear. And what could that do but draw out from Rab-shakeh a stronger appeal and more boasting than ever… It suggested an idea. It gave him a new weapon, a new argument, a new way of appealing to the people. He might not have thought of it if the fears of Hezekiah's servants had not put it into his head. The very thing they feared and asked him not to do gave him the idea of doing it.
His answer names a different audience. He is not bargaining with ministers. He is working on the crowd.
They should have realised their request would be pointless. In fact it only encouraged the Rabshakeh to speak louder to all the people on the wall. He urged them to hear the words of the great king of Assyria. If he could not persuade the leaders of the people, he would do his utmost to weaken the people themselves.
The goal behind the tactic was to take the city without the cost of a siege.
He does his best to frighten the ordinary people, "shut up like a bird in a cage," as Sennacherib's own inscription states. He hoped to stir up rebellion in the city, in order to take it without laying siege to it. But he laboured in vain; "the people held their peace, and answered him not a word: for the king's commandment was, saying, Answer him not."
The crude detail in the verse is part of the attack, not an accident.
Rabshakeh became very abusive and shouted a vulgar appeal to the people. It needs no further comment.
He named his hearers — and left out the most important one.
Rab-shakeh stood and shouted in their own language to the people on the walls. The blasphemer had no idea who was listening to his mocking demand, whether Jehovah would deliver Jerusalem. Eliakim, Shebna and Joah heard him. So did the men on the wall. But so did Jehovah Himself. It was now His affair.
Faith's answer to the taunt is no answer at all.
Hezekiah's servants beg the Rab-shakeh to speak in the Syrian language. He refuses in words of defiance and scorn. The danger of seeing the people discouraged may have filled Hezekiah with anguish. But that same danger leaves the believer's soul calm and at peace. He has only to keep silent. His trust in God answers everything.
- Title, not name. "Rabshakeh" is an office, not a name: chief cup-bearer. His fluent Hebrew hints that he once had ties to Israel's faith.
- The plea. Asking the enemy for a favour showed fear, and fear showed him where to strike.
- The weapon. He turned that request into a new argument, shouting past the ministers to the people on the wall.
- The aim. Frighten the people, stir up rebellion, take the city without a siege — and he failed.
- The listener. Above the officials and the men on the wall, the Lord heard every word. It was now His affair, and the people's part was silence.
And Rab-shakeh stood and cried with a loud voice in the Jewish [language], and spoke and said, Hear the word of the great king, the king of Assyria!
Hezekiah's officials had just asked Rabshakeh to speak Aramaic, so the people on the wall would not understand him. He answered by shouting to those very people in Hebrew — which shows what an enemy gains when God's people let him see their fear.
Hezekiah's three officials meant well when they asked for Aramaic instead of Hebrew. One writer notes that their fear backfired:
These three men were alarmed. They were afraid of the effect on the Jewish people, so they begged him not to talk in the Jews' language where the people could hear... It suggested an idea. It gave him a new weapon, a new argument, a new ground for appealing to the people. He might not have thought of it if the fears of Hezekiah's servants had not put it into his head. The very thing they feared and asked him not to do gave him the idea of doing it.
The same writer draws a hard rule out of it: an enemy is an enemy. "Nothing was to be won by pleading with the enemies of the Lord... Ask no favours of them, and expect none."
Turned down by the officials, Rabshakeh changed his audience:
They should have realised their request would be useless. In fact it only made the Rabshakeh speak more loudly to all the people on the wall. He urged them to hear the words of the great king of Assyria. If he could not persuade the leaders of the people, he would do his best to weaken the people themselves.
Another writer explains who was speaking, and how the speech ended:
"Rabshakeh" is a title, not a name. Sennacherib's commander-in-chief was the speaker. He was clearly a skilled diplomat, and he delivered his cunning speech in "the Jews' language"... He does his best to frighten the ordinary people. He hoped to stir up rebellion inside the city, so as to take it without having to lay siege to it. But he worked for nothing: "the people were silent and answered him not a word, for the king's command was, 'Do not answer him.'"
He aimed the shout at the men on the wall. It reached further:
Rabshakeh stood and cried out in their own tongue to the people on the walls, warning them against their king... The blasphemer had no idea who was listening to his taunting question about whether the Lord would deliver Jerusalem. It was not only Eliakim, Shebna and Joah, and not only the men on the wall, but the Lord Himself. It was now His affair.
Rabshakeh calls his master the great king. One writer sets that title beside the city he is shouting at:
God had set His name in Jerusalem, where Solomon built the temple. This was God's centre on earth, and of it we read, "Great is the LORD and greatly to be praised in the city of our God! His holy mountain, beautiful in elevation, is the joy of all the earth, Mount Zion... the city of the great King" (Psalm 48:1-2). Were Hezekiah and the Jews to willingly leave that city and go to another land "like their own land"?
Notice how he dresses the demand up as an invitation:
Listen to the king of Assyria. He will let you live in peace. Then he will carry you off to "a land like your own land, a land of grain and wine, a land of bread and vineyards"... No doubt you will be in slavery too, but the Assyrian will see to it that you are happy! Satan has always spoken like this to the hearts of men. Woe to the one who listens to him, for the prince of this world never makes a man happy.
The same writer contrasts the king's distress with the believer's rest:
The Rabshakeh speaks in Hebrew to the people on the wall. Hezekiah's servants beg him to speak in Aramaic. He refuses with defiance and scorn. The danger of the people losing heart may well have filled Hezekiah with distress. But that same danger leaves the believer's soul calm and at peace. He has only to keep silence. His trust in God answers everything.
- Fear speaks. Asking the enemy for a concession showed him where the weak point was, and he aimed at it.
- Volume targets. Unable to move the officials, he raised his voice to reach the people, hoping to divide the city from its king.
- Titles boast. He announced "the great king" outside the city that Scripture calls the city of the great King.
- Offers flatter. He wrapped the threat in a promise of grain, wine and bread — and the promise ended in slavery.
- Faith is quiet. The people answered not a word, and that silence was the one reply their king had commanded.
Thus says the king Let not Hezekiah deceive you; for he will not be able to deliver you out of the [king's] hand.
Assyria's commander Rabshakeh stands outside Jerusalem's wall and shouts past Hezekiah's negotiators to the people listening above. His message is simple: your king is lying to you, and he cannot save you.
Hezekiah's officials begged Rabshakeh to stop using the language the crowd understood. Their nervousness backfired. One writer shows how their plea handed the enemy an opening he had never thought of.
It is true that Hezekiah's servants were weak. Pleading with the enemies of the Lord would win nothing. It is always well to remember that they are enemies. Ask no favours of them, and expect none. But these three men were alarmed. They were afraid of the effect on the Jewish people. So they begged him not to talk in the Jews' language where the people could hear. What could that do but draw out from Rabshakeh a more forceful appeal and more boasting than ever… It suggested an idea. It gave him a new weapon, a new argument, a new way of appealing to the people. He might never have thought of it if the fears of Hezekiah's servants had not put it into his head.
The first move is against Hezekiah himself. Break the people's trust in their king, and his call to trust the Lord falls with him. One writer also names the voice behind the offer that follows.
And now Rabshakeh attacks the person of the king. Hezekiah is a deceiver, a seducer (vv. 29, 32). He is lying to you when he urges you to trust in the Lord (v. 30). Do not listen to Hezekiah (vv. 31-32). Listen to the king of Assyria (v. 28). He will let you live in peace. Then he will carry you away to "a land like your own land, a land of grain and wine, a land of bread and vineyards" (v. 32). That land is just as full of good things as the land of Canaan. That is where you will find real abundance. No doubt you will be in slavery too, but the Assyrian will make sure you are happy! Satan has always spoken like this to the hearts of men. Woe to anyone who listens to him, for the prince of this world never makes a man happy.
Rabshakeh made a flat prediction. One writer answers it head-on, and says why the answer took time to come.
Rabshakeh, speaking to the men of Judah, accused Hezekiah of deceiving his own people by his confidence that the Lord would deliver them. Would the Lord deliver Jerusalem? Yes! Assyria found very soon that the Lord was a God of awesome power and judgment. They had claimed that He sent them against Jerusalem, and He would judge them for that deceitful claim of representing Him. He delayed His intervention for a time, as a test of Hezekiah's faith.
Rabshakeh thought his audience was the men on the wall and the three officials below. He had miscalculated who else was within hearing.
But it was not only Eliakim and Shebna and Joah who heard; it was Jehovah. Rabshakeh never imagined that the Lord God was listening, or that the Lord God would answer very soon. He had now dared to use that name for deliberate blasphemy. He had defied the authority of Jehovah where people knew that name. He had defied God!
The shouting was meant to break the people's nerve, and that danger pressed on the king. One writer contrasts it with what the same danger does to a soul that trusts God.
The danger of seeing the people become discouraged may have filled Hezekiah with anguish. But the same danger leaves the believer's soul calm and at peace. He has only to keep silent. His trust in God answers everything.
Hezekiah had already lost silver, gold, and the treasures of the temple. None of that broke him.
If the king's ministers were foolish, the people at least were wise, and the people were wise because the king was wise… He heard it, and he tore his clothes. It was not for the loss of his three hundred talents of silver and thirty talents of gold. It was not even for the stripping of the house of Jehovah. But now Jehovah was insulted. Now there were appeals to the people in the Jews' language to weaken their confidence in Jehovah. This touched his heart.
- Listen — the officials' fear of being overheard gave Rabshakeh the idea of shouting to the crowd. Fear of what the enemy may hear can arm him.
- Deceive — the first target is the king's good name. Call Hezekiah a liar, and his appeal to trust the Lord loses its force.
- Deliver — God answered the boast that Hezekiah could not rescue them. He waited first, and the waiting tested Hezekiah's faith.
- Overheard — Rabshakeh thought he was speaking to men on a wall. God was listening to the name he had just used for blasphemy.
- Silence — the wise answer was to say nothing. What grieved Hezekiah was not his stripped treasury but God's honour insulted.
Neither let Hezekiah make you rely upon Jehovah, saying, Jehovah will certainly deliver us, and this city shall not be given into the hand of the king of Assyria.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Hearken not to Hezekiah; for thus says the king of Assyria Make peace with me, and come out to me; and eat every one of his vine and every one of his fig-tree, and drink every one the waters of his own cistern;
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
until I come and take you away to a land like your own land, a land of corn and wine, a land of bread and vineyards, a land of olive-trees and of honey, that ye may live and not die; and hearken not to Hezekiah, when he persuades you, saying, Jehovah will deliver us.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Have any of the gods of the nations delivered at all his land out of the hand of the king of Assyria?
An Assyrian officer stands outside Jerusalem's wall and argues from a track record: no nation's god has stopped Assyria yet. His question counts Israel's God among them, and it puts God's honour at stake.
The whole taunt rests on one mistake about who God is.
Rabshakeh could not distinguish between the idols and the Lord. The Lord to him was only an idol — one out of many idols. Hezekiah had broken down all the idols, so he imagined they were different forms of the Lord's worship. That, after all, was the pagan idea of God.
But the nations he lists never had what Judah had.
None of those nations was depending on the only true God. But Hezekiah honestly sought the grace and guidance of the God of all the earth. None of the gods of the nations had been able to deliver those nations from Assyria. So, the Rabshakeh argued, how could Hezekiah expect the Lord to deliver him?
Judah's own past had handed the enemy his talking point.
Here is a very serious thing to consider. Judah's unfaithfulness had given the enemy an occasion to blaspheme the true God and to deny His existence. Since you had high places and altars, these were the Lord for you, he says. He does not know the Lord except by the idols which Judah had made its gods.
He backed the taunt with a lie, then took his appeal straight to the people.
Rabshakeh falsely claimed that the Lord had told the Assyrian king to destroy Jerusalem. Then he made his appeal against Hezekiah to the citizens within hearing. He clearly knew their leaning toward idols, so different from their king's. Many of them were secretly trusting in false gods and not in the Lord. So the reminder that the gods of many other cities had failed to deliver was likely to carry weight with them.
Three men on the wall heard him. So did Someone he never counted on.
Eliakim, Shebna and Joah were not the only ones who heard. The Lord heard too. Rabshakeh never imagined that the Lord God was listening. He never imagined that the Lord God would answer quickly, now that he had dared to use that name for deliberate blasphemy. He had dared the authority of the Lord where it was known. He had dared God!
Losing his silver and gold had not made Hezekiah tear his clothes. This blow did.
He heard it, and he tore his clothes. It was not for the loss of his three hundred talents of silver and thirty talents of gold. It was not even for the stripping of the house of the Lord. But now the Lord was insulted. Now there were appeals to the people in their own language to weaken their confidence in the Lord. This touched his heart.
The people gave the taunt the one reply it could not work against.
It is simply a matter of keeping silent and leaving the enemy to his threats or his smooth talk. The people trust the words of the king, their leader, and imitate his faith. The Assyrian attacks God openly, and His anointed king too. God uses that attack to strengthen and revive the people.
Hezekiah grants the enemy's facts and overturns his conclusion.
He does not try to make the difficulty look small. He admits that the kings of Assyria have laid waste all the nations and their countries. But why did those nations fall? Because their gods were not like the Lord. They did not know what it was to put their case into the hands of the living God who made heaven and earth. This was the secret of their overthrow.
- Mistake — The taunt treats the Lord as one more local god. The speaker could not tell Israel's God from the gods Assyria had already beaten.
- Opening — Judah's own high places handed the enemy his evidence. His loudest appeal went to the people already trusting false gods in secret.
- Listener — The words carried further than the wall. The God whose name he used for blasphemy was listening, and He would answer.
- Silence — The king told the people not to reply. He took the insult to God instead of into argument, and the attack revived them.
- Answer — Those nations fell because their gods were not like the Lord. Hezekiah put his case in the hands of the living God who made heaven and earth.
Where are the gods of Hamath and of Arpad? Where are the gods of Sepharvaim, Hena, and Ivvah? and have they delivered Samaria out of my hand?
Rabshakeh speaks for the king of Assyria, and he is standing below Jerusalem's wall. He lists cities his master has beaten, asks where their gods are, and ends with Samaria — a city Assyria had already taken.
Rabshakeh's question has a mistake built into it. He had already mocked Hezekiah for pulling down the altars and high places. One commentator explains how he could think that way:
Rabshakeh could not tell the difference between the idols and Jehovah. To him Jehovah was only an idol, one among many. Hezekiah had broken down all the idols, so he imagined they were different forms of Jehovah's worship. That was the heathen idea of God.
Jehovah is the name older writers use where the ESV has "the LORD". Judah's own record had given Rabshakeh that impression:
He does not know the Lord except by the idols which Judah had made its gods. He had the right to say to them, You have the same kinds of gods I do, and you serve them in the same way. And now you are saying: As for us, we trust in the Lord! Which Lord, tell me? The Lord of the high places, or the Lord of the altar you have just set up?
Rabshakeh chose this argument for one audience in particular. He shouted it at the men sitting on the wall:
He appealed to the citizens within hearing, against Hezekiah. He knew well how much they leaned towards idols, so unlike their King. Many of them were secretly trusting in false gods and not in the Lord. So the reminder that the gods of many other cities had failed to deliver was likely to carry weight with them. Still, Hezekiah's command to the men to keep silence held, and they answered him not a word.
Every name on it was a genuine defeat. The argument still collapses, because of what those nations had been leaning on:
What of the gods of Hamath, Arpad, Sepharvaim, Hena and Ivvah? And what of Samaria? All of these had fallen to the bondage of Assyria. The answer is simple. None of those nations was depending on the only true God. But Hezekiah honestly sought the grace and guidance of the God of all the earth.
Rabshakeh asks where those gods are. One writer sets them beside the living God, and describes those who trusted them:
These gods could be seen, but could not see. God was the living God, who dwelt in heaven. These had the form of living creatures, but without life, and were found on earth. He acted as He pleased. These could not act at all. They began in the craftsman's imagination and owed their shape to the workman's skill. "Their idols are silver and gold, the work of human hands" — worthless objects, apart from the value of the metal they were made of. How could a dying creature make a living God to save him? Man could mould the metal into human form. He could shape it after the noblest of God's creatures on earth. But where was the life, where the will, where the power? "Those who make them become like them; so do all who trust in them." They might look like living souls, while in reality they were dead before God — however devoted and good they appeared.
Rabshakeh thought he was debating three nervous officials. He was not:
It was not merely Eliakim and Shebna and Joah who heard; it was Jehovah. Rabshakeh never imagined that the Lord God was listening, or that the Lord God would answer quickly. Yet now he had dared to use that name for deliberate blasphemy. He had dared the authority of Jehovah where it was known. He had dared God!
Hezekiah's men kept silence. One writer sets Hezekiah's anguish beside the calm of the believer who trusts God:
The risk of seeing the people lose heart may have filled Hezekiah with anguish. But the same danger leaves the believer's soul tranquil and peaceful. He has only to keep silence. His trust in God answers to everything.
- The list. Rabshakeh names Hamath, Arpad, Sepharvaim, Hena, Ivvah and Samaria. He asks where their gods were — real defeats, turned into one argument against trusting God.
- The flaw. Every nation on the list had trusted something other than the only true God. Hezekiah sought the God of all the earth, so the list proved nothing about him.
- The blindness. Rabshakeh could not tell an idol from Jehovah. Judah's own high places had taught him that confusion.
- The target. Rabshakeh aimed his speech at the men on the wall. Many of them secretly trusted false gods, so his argument was likely to bite.
- The answer. The gods on his list could be seen but could not see. The God he insulted was listening — and Judah's answer to Rabshakeh was deliberate silence.
Which are they among all the gods of the countries, who have delivered their country out of my hand, that Jehovah should deliver Jerusalem out of my hand?
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
But the people were silent and answered him not a word; for the king's command was, saying, Answer him not.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And Eliakim the son of Hilkijah, who was over the household, and Shebna the scribe, and Joah the son of Asaph, the chronicler, came to Hezekiah with their garments rent, and told him the words of Rab-shakeh.
Rabshakeh has finished his speech. The three men Hezekiah sent to meet him walk back through the gate with torn clothes and hand his words to the king. They bring back no reply of their own, and that silence matters as much as the report.
These three officials had already asked Rabshakeh not to speak in the Jews' language, so the crowd on the wall would not understand him. That plea handed him his best weapon.
It is true that Hezekiah's servants were weak. There was nothing to gain by trying to appease the enemies of the Lord. It is always well to remember that they are enemies. Ask no favours of them, and expect none. But these three men were alarmed. They feared the effect on the Jewish people, so they begged him not to talk in the Jews' language where the people could hear. And what could that do? It only drew from Rabshakeh a more violent appeal and more boasting than ever… The very thing they feared and asked him not to do gave him the idea of doing it.
The job titles in this verse also mark a change in Hezekiah's court.
God's judgment on the pride and arrogance of Shebna would make room for a true servant of Jehovah. Isaiah 22:20-21 says God would call His servant Eliakim the son of Hilkiah, clothe him with Shebna's robe, hand him Shebna's government, and make him a father to the people of Jerusalem and to the house of Judah. Notice that Shebna is the one called "over the house" in Isaiah 22:15. But in Isaiah 36:3, 22, and Isaiah 37:2, Eliakim is "over the house," and Shebna is named after him as "the scribe." So during the reign of Hezekiah, Eliakim rose and Shebna fell from his very high position.
Rabshakeh had aimed his taunt at men on a wall. His audience was larger than he knew.
The blasphemer taunted them, demanding to know whether Jehovah would deliver Jerusalem. He never thought who was listening. Not Eliakim, Shebna and Joah only, nor the men on the wall as well, but Jehovah Himself. It was now His affair. And then at last the faith of Hezekiah begins to shine once more, for his command was to give the man no answer.
Torn clothes might look like anger. Grant reads them as the opposite.
The people answered nothing, for Hezekiah had so instructed them (v. 36). That left the whole matter in God's hand. They could wait for His time to intervene as He saw fit. Eliakim, Shebna and Joah brought to Hezekiah the report of what Rabshakeh had said. They did so in a spirit of self-judgment, with their clothes torn. There was no bitter hatred in it, and no self-confidence. Instead there was the lowly humility of men who knew they had no power of their own. Their one concern was that God Himself would step in for them.
The report reaches Hezekiah. Earlier losses had not moved him like this.
Hezekiah bows as a man who trusts in Jehovah. He heard the report, and he tore his clothes. It was not for the loss of his three hundred talents of silver and thirty talents of gold. It was not even for the stripping of the house of Jehovah. But now Jehovah was insulted. Now there were appeals to the people in the Jews' tongue to weaken their confidence in Jehovah. This touches his heart. He tore his clothes and went in sorrow to plead before the Lord.
Rabshakeh promised the people comfort inside slavery. Rossier hears a familiar voice behind the offer.
No doubt you will be in bondage too, but the Assyrian will see that you are happy! Satan has always spoken like this to the hearts of men. Woe to him who listens to him, for the prince of this world never makes a man happy. Do we need to reason with him? Do we need to argue with him, or even talk with him, or answer him at all? Adam and Eve proved that only too well, to their own ruin and the ruin of their descendants. The man of faith is not tempted to answer him… He need only keep silent and leave the enemy to his threats or his honeyed words. The people trust the words of the king, their leader, and imitate his faith.
- Mishandled — The three officials tried to handle Rabshakeh themselves. Their nervous plea only handed him a fresh weapon.
- Overheard — More than the men on the wall heard the blasphemy. Jehovah heard it, and the matter became His own affair.
- Torn — The torn clothes read as self-judgment and humility, not rage — men who knew they had no power of their own.
- Carried — They carried the words to the king instead of arguing. He grieved over an insulted God, not over lost treasure.
- Silent — Threats and honeyed promises get the same answer: silence, trust, and the matter left in God's hand.
And it came to pass when king Hezekiah heard [it], that he rent his garments, and covered himself with sackcloth, and went into the house of Jehovah.
Rabshakeh, the Assyrian king's messenger, had stood outside Jerusalem's wall and mocked both Hezekiah and the God of Israel. The king's answer was mourning clothes and the house of the Lord.
The order of Hezekiah's actions is the lesson. He did not first assemble his military staff, and he did not even send for the prophet first.
In deep humiliation and sorrow the godly man went to the house of the Lord and sent messengers to Isaiah. This is most blessed. He did not call a council of his advisers — a meeting of the captains — to talk the matter over. He did not send first to the prophet either. Faith knows a better way than that. He went straight into the presence of the LORD, and the sending to Isaiah was secondary. Many of our failures as His people happen because we do not go to the LORD first.
The torn robe and the sackcloth are only one side of what he did.
He tore his clothes and put on sackcloth, the symbol of repentance and self-judgment. This was negative, but he also took the positive action of going into the house of the Lord. There he would find positive help. No doubt the Lord guided him when he sent Eliakim, Shebna, and the elders of Israel to Isaiah the prophet.
One writer ties the sackcloth to the source of Hezekiah's power.
What gave him such rare power in this fight was the feeling that he was nothing — that "an arm of flesh" was of no use. In a word, it was the Lord or nothing... Faith enabled Hezekiah to withdraw from the scene and make it entirely a question between the Lord and the king of Assyria. It was not Sennacherib and Hezekiah, but Sennacherib and the Lord. This tells us the meaning of the sackcloth. Hezekiah felt himself to be utterly helpless, and he took the place of helplessness.
Faith here is not calm detachment. The torn clothes were genuine grief, and the grief itself moved him in the right direction.
This confidence did not shut out anguish. The extreme danger did press on the heart. They do wear sackcloth and tear their clothes as a sign of affliction, of humiliation, and of mourning. But the danger drives Hezekiah and his people towards the house of God and towards the words of God. They go there for counsel, strength, and comfort... But one thing is enough for the afflicted remnant, and it ought to be enough for us. The Lord is there, and the defiance is against Him, not against us.
Hezekiah had plenty of reasons to grieve that day. One of them cut deeper than the rest.
He heard it, and he tore his clothes. It was not for the loss of his three hundred talents of silver and thirty talents of gold. It was not even for the stripping of the house of the Lord. But now the Lord Himself was insulted. Now there were appeals to the people in their own language to weaken their confidence in Him. This touched his heart. He tore his clothes and went before the Lord in sorrow to plead with Him... He goes to the Lord; they are sent to the Lord's servant. This was right. He looks in prayer to God Himself, and he expects an answer through His servant.
Hezekiah had already tried another way. He emptied the temple of its silver and gold to buy off Sennacherib. It bought him nothing but a bolder enemy.
The godly king did what he could to strengthen his defences. He sent the most humble message to the proud Assyrian. He gave him all the silver in the Lord's house, and stripped off for him the gold from its doors and pillars. But it was useless. There was little of the simplicity, strength, or wisdom of faith in all this. No wonder the blessing of God was not with him there. No wonder the enemy grew bolder and asked for everything.
The insults themselves became the cure:
All this reviling brought back Hezekiah's trust in the Lord. He saw that appeasing this world was of no use. All his trust must be in the Lord his God, as it had been before, even if he had been caught off guard for a moment.
- Threat. Buying off the enemy failed and only made him bolder. The insults that followed drove Hezekiah back to the trust he had set aside for a moment.
- Torn. Torn clothes and sackcloth were the sign of repentance and self-judgment — real grief, not a calm face.
- Temple. He went to the house of the Lord before he went to his advisers or even to the prophet. Going to God first is the step we most often skip.
- Transfer. Sackcloth meant he took the place of helplessness. The fight was no longer Sennacherib against Hezekiah, but Sennacherib against the Lord.
- Touched. What tore his clothes was not the silver and gold Assyria had taken, but the insult to God Himself.
And he sent Eliakim, who was over the household, and Shebna the scribe, and the elders of the priests, covered with sackcloth, to the prophet Isaiah the son of Amoz.
The Assyrian king's officers had mocked the God of Israel outside Jerusalem, and the report reached Hezekiah. He did not call a war council. He sent two of his highest officials and the senior priests, all in sackcloth, to the door of a prophet.
One commentator points to what the king did not do first:
And Hezekiah also tore his clothes. In deep humiliation and sorrow the godly man went to the house of the Lord and sent messengers to Isaiah. This is most blessed. He did not call a council of his advisers. He did not call a meeting of the captains to talk the matter over. He did not send first to the prophet. Faith knows a better way than that. He went straight into the presence of the LORD, and the sending to Isaiah was secondary. Many of our failures as His people happen because we do not go to the LORD first.
Hezekiah and his messengers each had their own errand:
He goes to Jehovah; he sends them to Jehovah's servant. This was right. He looks in prayer to God Himself, and he expects an answer through His servant.
Priests went in the group, but not to the head of their own order:
As the evil among the people grew, God always found an emergency man for Himself. Through that man He could speak to their consciences. We see this clearly in 2 Kings 19:2 and 2 Kings 22:12-14. In the first case, Hezekiah sends two of his officers, along with the elders of the priests, all covered with sackcloth. They go to Isaiah about the blasphemous words of the proud Assyrian. Note that "the elders of the priests" made up most of the group. Yet Hezekiah did not send them to the High Priest of the day. He sent them to a man quite outside their order — the son of Amoz.
The same writer draws out what this says about the priesthood, and what God does after such a failure:
They show us that the priesthood had completely lost its original place as the channel between Jehovah and His people… But God never rebuilds an order of things that has failed in the hands of men. In His great grace He goes on to something better. Everything that man has handled so badly will be perfect in Christ on the day He appears.
Their titles mark a shift in the royal household that Isaiah had already announced:
God's judgment on the pride and arrogance of Shebna would make way for a true servant of Jehovah. Isaiah had said, "In that day I will call my servant Eliakim the son of Hilkiah" (Isaiah 22:20). Note this: Isaiah 22:15 calls Shebna "over the house." But in Isaiah 36:3, 22, and Isaiah 37:2, Eliakim is "over the house," and Shebna comes after him as "the scribe." So during the reign of Hezekiah, Eliakim was rising, and Shebna was falling from his very high position.
The sackcloth had a meaning, and Hezekiah joined it to a positive step:
When Hezekiah heard the report, he tore his clothes and put on sackcloth, the symbol of repentance and self-judgment. This was negative, but he also took the positive action of going into the house of the Lord. There he would find positive help. No doubt the Lord guided him when he sent Eliakim and Shebna and the elders of Israel to Isaiah the prophet.
Judah was down to a weak remnant, yet that remnant was not empty-handed:
Did they have any resource, this weak "remnant that is left" (v. 4)? Yes, indeed! They still had Jehovah's temple, His beloved city, Mount Zion, the son of David and his throne, and the prophet who carried the word of God. They still had far more than David himself had in the cave of Adullam! The flesh might become discouraged; faith could not. In the middle of this indescribable disaster, faith had everything that gave it firm assurance… Faith listens to the voice of the prophet, and closes its ear to the blaspheming voice of the enemy's servant.
- First — Hezekiah went to God before he sent to Isaiah. Many failures start by reversing that order.
- Then — He prayed to God Himself, and he looked for the answer through God's servant. Both belong together.
- Past the priest — Priests went in the group, yet Hezekiah sent them past their own high priest to a prophet. That order had failed in men's hands.
- Raised and lowered — Eliakim now stands where Shebna once stood. The proud official sinks; God raises the servant He names.
- Still enough — The remnant had lost almost everything. It still had the temple, David's throne, and the prophet who carried God's word. Faith counted that as enough.
And they said to him, Thus says Hezekiah This day is a day of trouble and of rebuke and of reviling; for the children are come to the birth, and there is not strength to bring forth.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
It may be Jehovah thy God will hear all the words of Rab-shakeh, whom the king of Assyria his master has sent to reproach the living God; and will rebuke the words which Jehovah thy God has heard. Therefore lift up a prayer for the remnant that is left.
The king of Assyria's officer has stood outside Jerusalem's wall and mocked both the king and the God of Israel. Hezekiah does not answer him back. He sends a message to the prophet Isaiah instead. The verse raises three questions. Whose name was really insulted? Why does Hezekiah say only "it may be"? And who are the people he calls "left"? (The commentators quoted here say "reproach" where the ESV says "mock.")
The striking thing about the message is what Hezekiah leaves out of it. He does not plead his own danger.
And equally beautiful is his message to God's prophet. He does not mention himself in the danger of Jerusalem. It is the honour of the Lord that is at stake; the honour of the living God is at stake. The Assyrian had defied the God of Israel. Indeed, Hezekiah's comfort was that the Lord had heard it all and knew it all. What lessons and what comforts are here for us also! Then he requests prayer.
That title is doing real work in the verse. It says which God Assyria has insulted, and what makes Him different.
The Living God. — He directed attention to the living God. That speaks of one, and only one, divine Being. There are not two living Gods. Now their fathers had understood what this name meant. It marked out their God, the Lord Jehovah, as completely different from the idols of the nations. Those had no life. "They have mouths, but do not speak; eyes, but do not see. They have ears, but do not hear; noses, but do not smell. They have hands, but do not feel; feet, but do not walk; and they do not make a sound in their throat" (Psalm 115:5-7). This heaps scorn on the idols, on their makers, and on their worshippers.
"It may be" is a cautious phrase. One writer reads it as the mark of a faith that was real but small. The answer did not depend on the size of that faith.
Hezekiah was not a man of great faith. But he saw that the profane king of Assyria was not only challenging him. He was reproaching the God of Israel... Even if Hezekiah's faith was small, the Lord answered his cry, for the glory of His Name was in question.
Hezekiah describes his own people by a word of weakness. He makes no larger claim for them than the facts allowed.
Then, second, he turned to the prophet, through whom God had been speaking. He confessed the low condition of himself and his people. He spoke of them as "the remnant that is left." He recognised the unity of all Israel. The ten tribes had now gone into exile. He did not fall into the trap of assuming that the two tribes he ruled were more than a "remnant," left by the mercy of God.
Another writer asks what that weak remnant still had. The list is long.
Did they have any resource, this weak "remnant that is left" (v. 4)? Yes, indeed! They still had the Lord's temple, His beloved city, Mount Zion, the son of David and his throne, the prophet — bearer of the word of God... The flesh might become discouraged. Faith could not be discouraged at all. In the middle of this indescribable disaster, faith had everything that gave it firm assurance, everything that comforted it, everything that made it rejoice in the affliction: Immanuel, the presence of God with His people.
Hezekiah does two things in the same hour, and the order matters: he prays himself, and he asks God's servant to pray.
He goes to the Lord; they are sent to the Lord's servant. This was right. He looks in prayer to God Himself, and he expects an answer through His servant... And the answer is immediate. "Say this to your master. This is what the Lord says: Do not be afraid of the words you have heard. The servants of the king of Assyria have blasphemed Me with them."
- Defied — The insult struck at God, not at Hezekiah. He never mentions his own danger; it is the honour of the Lord that is at stake.
- Living — The God they mocked is the one living God, unlike the lifeless idols of the nations.
- Weak — Hezekiah calls his people only a remnant. Yet that remnant still held everything worth having.
- Hesitant — "It may be" is the language of small faith, and God answered it anyway, because His own Name was in question.
- Answered — He prayed, and he asked the prophet to pray. The answer came at once: do not be afraid.
And the servants of king Hezekiah came to Isaiah.
An Assyrian army stands outside Jerusalem, and Hezekiah has sent his chief officials to the prophet Isaiah. This short verse is the moment they arrive, and everything hangs on the answer they carry back.
The order of Hezekiah's actions matters. He did not send to Isaiah instead of praying; he prayed, and sent.
He goes to the Lord; they are sent to the Lord's servant. This was right. He looks in prayer to God Himself, and he expects an answer through His servant… And the answer is immediate.
One writer points out what Hezekiah did not do first, then turns it on us.
He did not call a council of his advisers. He did not gather the captains to talk the matter over. He did not send to the prophet first. Faith knows a better way than that. He went straight into the presence of the LORD, and the sending to Isaiah was secondary. Many of our failures as His people happen because we do not go to the LORD first.
This kind of helplessness comes back again and again.
Similar distress has been often repeated in the history of the Church. A climax arises that finds saints of God pathetically weak in meeting the attacks of the enemy. What is their resource? Only the grace of God. So Hezekiah asked Isaiah to pray. He asked that God would rebuke the words of the Rabshakeh, and preserve the small remnant of Israel still left in the land.
Rabshakeh was the Assyrian king's spokesman.
Notice who is missing from Hezekiah's message.
And equally beautiful is his message to God's prophet. He does not mention himself in the danger of Jerusalem. It is the honour of the Lord that is at stake; the honour of the living God is at stake. The Assyrian had defied the God of Israel. Yes, Hezekiah's comfort was that the Lord had heard it all and knew it all. What lessons and what comforts are here for us also! Then he requests prayer.
Hezekiah's own faith was not strong. That did not decide the outcome.
Hezekiah was not a man of great faith, but he discerned that the ungodly king of Assyria was not only challenging him, but was reproaching the God of Israel… Even if Hezekiah's faith was small, the Lord answered his cry, for the glory of His Name was in question.
The remnant looked stripped of everything. One writer lists what they still had.
Did they have any resource, this weak "remnant that is left" (v. 4)? Yes, indeed! They still had the Lord's temple, His beloved city, Mount Zion, the son of David and his throne, and the prophet who carried the word of God. They still had much more than David himself had in the cave of Adullam! The flesh might lose heart. Faith could not, for in the middle of this indescribable disaster faith had everything that gave it firm assurance, everything that comforted it, and everything that made it rejoice in the affliction: Immanuel, the presence of God with His people.
The same writer names the one fact that steadies them.
But one thing is enough for the afflicted remnant, and ought to be enough for us: the Lord is there; it is He, not ourselves, who has been defied.
Isaiah's reply was short, and it came in a set order.
The divine answer through Isaiah was brief. Do not be afraid. The blessed assurance for faith first — Fear not! The promise of deliverance is the second thing in Isaiah's answer.
God's own hand in it stayed out of sight.
When the servants brought this message to Isaiah, the prophet did not hesitate to tell them what the Lord said… God took account of the words that had blasphemed Him (v.6). God would work behind the scenes. He would cause the king of Assyria to hear a rumour that drove him back to his own land. There he would die by the sword among his own people (v.7). His own sons killed him (v.37).
- Go first. Hezekiah went into God's presence first. Sending to Isaiah came second.
- Own the weakness. God's people are often too weak to meet the enemy's attacks, and their only resource is the grace of God.
- Plead His name. He left himself out of the message. The reproach was against the living God, and that is what he asked prayer about.
- Small faith, real answer. His faith was small, but the Lord answered his cry, because the glory of His name was in question.
- Wait for the word. The reply was brief and immediate. First "do not be afraid", then the promise. God kept it with a rumour and a sword Hezekiah never touched.
And Isaiah said to them, Thus shall ye say to your master Thus saith Jehovah Be not afraid of the words that thou hast heard, wherewith the servants of the king of Assyria have blasphemed me.
The king of Assyria had sent his servants to Jerusalem with words that insulted God Himself. Hezekiah tore his clothes, went to the house of the Lord, and sent to Isaiah for a word from God.
The order of Hezekiah's actions is part of the lesson.
In deep humiliation and sorrow the godly man went to the house of the Lord and sent messengers to Isaiah. This is most blessed. He did not call a council of his advisers or a meeting of the captains to talk the matter over. He did not send first to the prophet. Faith knows a better way than that. He went straight into the presence of the LORD, and the sending to Isaiah was secondary. Many of our failures as His people happen because we do not go to the LORD first.
Notice what God gives before anything else.
God's answer through Isaiah was brief: "Do not be afraid." The blessed assurance for faith comes first — do not be afraid! The promise of deliverance comes second in Isaiah's answer.
God does not say the words insulted Hezekiah. He says they reviled Him. That moves the weight of the crisis off the king and his city. One writer draws this out as the one thing that is enough for a weak and humbled people:
This confidence did not shut out anguish. The extreme danger did press on the heart. They do wear sackcloth and tear their clothes as a sign of affliction, humiliation and mourning. But the danger drives Hezekiah and his people to the house of God and to the words of God, to receive counsel, strength and comfort... But one thing is enough for the afflicted remnant, and it ought to be enough for us. The Lord is there. It is He, not we, whom the enemy has defied.
The answer came for a reason that lay outside Hezekiah himself.
Hezekiah was not a man of great faith. But he saw that the godless king of Assyria was not only challenging him. He was also insulting the God of Israel... Even if Hezekiah's faith was small, the Lord answered his cry, for the glory of His Name was in question.
What happened next matched the prophet's message exactly.
The word of the Lord is fulfilled to the letter. News came that Tirhakah, king of Ethiopia, who had seized Egypt, was advancing against the king of Assyria. His own aim was exactly the conquest of Egypt, so he left suddenly to meet Tirhakah.
Another writer traces how God did it, and how the king of Assyria finally died:
When the servants brought this message to Isaiah, the prophet had no need to hesitate. He told them to report the words of the Lord to Hezekiah: he was not to be afraid of the boasting words from Assyria, for God took account of those words which had blasphemed Him (v.6). God would work behind the scenes, causing the king of Assyria to hear a rumour to drive him back to his own land, where he would suffer death by the sword among his own people (v.7). His own sons killed him (v.37).
Scripture gives Hezekiah a lot of space. One writer explains why.
Scripture tells Hezekiah's life at length. In his reign, Sennacherib's attack on Jerusalem pictured a still greater deliverance from a future king of Assyria. God so controls the evil and the passions of men that He makes them serve His purpose. He gives a hint of what He will yet do for His own glory.
- Words heard. The enemy's words were real and frightening. Hezekiah did not answer them. He carried them into God's presence first, and only then sent to the prophet.
- Words claimed. God calls the insult an attack on Himself. The enemy defied Him, not the frightened people of Jerusalem.
- Word given. The reply leads with "do not be afraid"; assurance for faith comes first, the promise of deliverance second.
- Word honoured. Hezekiah's faith was small, but the glory of God's Name was at stake, so the Lord answered his cry.
- Word fulfilled. A rumour, a retreat, a sword in his own land. God did it all behind the scenes, to the letter. It points on to a greater rescue still to come.
Behold, I will put a spirit into him, and he shall hear tidings, and shall return to his own land; and I will make him to fall by the sword in his own land.
Hezekiah's officials have carried the king's distress to Isaiah. The prophet sends back God's reply: do not fear, because the invader is already sentenced. In one verse God says how He will turn back the greatest army of the day — by a rumour, a retreat, and a sword at home.
The comfort here rests on one fact: the taunts were aimed at God, not at Hezekiah. One writer says the same holds for us today:
But one thing is enough for the afflicted remnant and ought to be enough for us: the Lord is there; it is He, not ourselves, who has been defied. So let us say like Hezekiah: perhaps the Lord will hear the words of the one who reproaches the living God, and punish the words He has heard. And the Lord will answer us.
God answered, though the king who cried to Him was no giant of faith. What moved God was the honour of His own name:
Hezekiah was not a man of great faith. But he saw that the godless king of Assyria was not only challenging him. He was reproaching the God of Israel... Even if Hezekiah's faith was small, the Lord answered his cry, for the glory of His name was in question. So we have God's own reply to the king.
God promises no army and announces no wonder. His means are a spirit put in a man and a piece of news. Rabshakeh, the Assyrian general, was still at Jerusalem:
God would work behind the scenes. He would make the king of Assyria hear a rumour that drove him back to his own land. There he would suffer death by the sword among his own people (v.7). His own sons killed him (v.37). So Hezekiah had relief for a short time. The rumour made Rabshakeh leave Jerusalem, because the king of Assyria had another battle front at Libnah (v.8).
The rumour was war news, and it reached a king whose own plan it ruined:
The word of the Lord is fulfilled to the letter. Tirhakah, king of Ethiopia, had seized Egypt, and he was now advancing against the king of Assyria. Egypt was the very thing the Assyrian had set out to conquer. So the news made him leave at once to meet him.
The second half of the sentence took longer. First the army fell, and then the king:
God's answer was not long delayed. "And that night the angel of the Lord went out and struck down 185,000 in the camp of the Assyrians. And when people arose early in the morning, behold, these were all dead bodies." The result was that the king retreats in dismay. He returns and lives in Nineveh. But as the Lord had sent a blast upon him in Palestine, so now he must fall in his own land. "And as he was worshiping in the house of Nisroch his god, Adrammelech and Sharezer, his sons, struck him down with the sword and escaped into the land of Ararat. And Esarhaddon his son reigned in his place." So every word of the Lord was accomplished.
Commentators also read the whole rescue as a picture of a later one. A type is an earlier person or event that pictures someone greater:
Hezekiah is in this way a type of the true Immanuel, of Him before whom the Assyrian, the destroyer of Israel, will fall. This is a very important history, as it foreshadows the events of the last days.
("Immanuel" means "God with us.")
- Words. The Assyrian's taunts reproached the living God. The defiance hit Him, not Hezekiah.
- Word. God answered through the prophet, and His word was fulfilled to the letter.
- Wind. God's first move stayed out of sight — a spirit put in a man, and news from Ethiopia.
- Withdrawal. The news did its work. The invader broke off and went home, just as God said.
- Wound. The sword found him at home, in the hands of his own sons. Every word God spoke that day came true, and the whole rescue points to a greater one still ahead.
And Rab-shakeh returned, and found the king of Assyria warring against Libnah; for he had heard that he had departed from Lachish.
Rabshakeh had stood at Jerusalem's wall, shouting threats at the city. Now he returns and finds his king gone from Lachish to Libnah — a move commentators read as the first visible step of what Isaiah had promised.
Isaiah had already told Hezekiah what was coming. The king of Assyria would hear something, and go home. One commentator ties that promise to this verse:
God would work behind the scenes. He would make the king of Assyria hear a rumour that drove him back to his own land. There he would suffer death by the sword among his own people (v.7). His own sons killed him (v.37). So Hezekiah was given a short respite. The rumour made Rabshakeh leave Jerusalem, because the king of Assyria had another front of battle with Libnah (v.8).
Nothing supernatural is on show. A general moves and a spokesman follows. God's hand is in the troop movements themselves.
The army that drew him off came from the very region he was aiming at:
The word of the Lord is fulfilled to the letter. Tirhakah, king of Ethiopia, had seized Egypt. News came that he was marching against Sennacherib, whose own aim was exactly the conquest of Egypt. So Sennacherib set out at once to meet him.
The two place names matter. Both lie on the low country route, not at Jerusalem. God had said the Assyrian would never come before the city:
He was not to come into the city. He was not even to besiege it. He was not to shoot an arrow there, nor to come before it with shield, nor to build a siege ramp against it. By the way that he came, by that same way should he return. Now that way had clearly been along the low country, the great highway between Syria and Egypt. From Lachish, in the south-west of the land, Sennacherib first sent to demand the surrender of Hezekiah and his people. From Libnah, when about to move south to meet Tirhakah, King of Ethiopia, his last insulting message was sent (2 Kings 19:8-9).
Another writer names the officers the king sent instead. "Rabshakeh" is a title — the chief cup-bearer:
It is clear as light in the three accounts in Scripture that the great king never besieged Jerusalem. He was content to send his servants and a large part of his army from Lachish. The general in command (Tartan), the chief chamberlain (Rab-saris) and the chief cup-bearer (Rab-shakeh) did come to Jerusalem, and the last of them insulted Hezekiah, threatened the worst horrors of a siege in the hearing of those sitting on the wall, and blasphemed Jehovah as if He were powerless like the other gods. It is no less clear that Rabshakeh returned to his master, who had gone from Lachish to Libnah, and sent a message to Hezekiah again — shorter and yet more blasphemous.
Read from the end of the story, this quiet turning back is only the first stage of Sennacherib's humbling:
What a humiliation, and yet how simple! First came a rumour in his own land, after the blast that Jehovah would send in His land. Last of all, he himself was kept for a far more humiliating fate, in front of his own subjects in his own land.
The withdrawal did not end the pressure on Hezekiah. From Libnah came a letter, and the insult sharpened. Earlier the Assyrian had told the people not to let Hezekiah fool them; now he goes after their God directly:
Now he says to Hezekiah, "Do not let your God, on whom you rely, deceive you" (v. 10), likening Him to the false gods that he, the Assyrian, had destroyed. It was a direct "reproach" against the "living God." The Assyrian king was blocked in his plan and wounded in his pride. The rage that filled him now shows itself in its true character. It is the God of Israel whom he opposes.
Hezekiah takes the letter to God. One writer notes how this second visit differs from the first:
Hezekiah goes up to the house of the Lord a second time. It is no longer a question of humiliation, as it was the first time. It is a direct attack on the name of the Lord whom Hezekiah honours. God must take account of this letter. The king places God's cause into God's own hands, but he knows that to honour His name, the Lord will save His humbled people.
- Word first — Isaiah promised the Assyrian would hear something and go home. This verse is that promise starting to happen, with God working behind the scenes.
- Rumour next — news of Tirhakah's advance struck the very region Sennacherib was aiming at. The word of the Lord came true to the letter.
- Route fixed — Lachish and Libnah lie on the low country highway. God had said the invader would not shoot an arrow at Jerusalem. The great king never even besieged it.
- Respite only — the retreat bought Hezekiah a short breathing space, not peace. From Libnah came a letter treating his God as a deceiver — a direct reproach against the living God. Hezekiah put God's cause into God's own hands.
- End certain — first a rumour, then a retreat, and at last death by his own sons' swords at home. The humbling God announced came in stages, and it came in full.
And he heard say of Tirhakah king of Ethiopia, Behold, he has come forth to make war with thee. And he sent messengers again to Hezekiah, saying,
News reaches Sennacherib that Tirhakah, king of Cush, is marching against him. Instead of turning to meet that threat, he fires off one more demand at Jerusalem. This verse is the hinge of the story. The distraction God promised has arrived, yet the enemy's mouth only grows louder.
Tirhakah was a real ruler, named on ancient monuments as well as in the Bible. The ESV calls him king of Cush; older translations call the same land Ethiopia, which is the name the writers below use. His clash with Assyria pulled Sennacherib's attention away from Jerusalem.
Tirhakah or Taharka (the Tehrak of the monuments) came into conflict with Assyria in the fourteenth year of Hezekiah. Sennacherib was attacking Libnah when he heard that the king of Ethiopia had come out to fight against him. Sennacherib sent a second threatening letter to Hezekiah; but God miraculously destroyed his army in the night.
Isaiah had already told Hezekiah what would happen. The king of Assyria would hear news that sent him home. The report about Tirhakah is that promise arriving.
"Do not be afraid of the words you have heard," said Isaiah. "The servants of the king of Assyria have used them to blaspheme Me. Behold, I will put a spirit in him. He will hear news, and he will return to his own land. And I will make him fall by the sword in his own land" (vv. 6-7). The word of the Lord came true to the letter. Tirhakah, king of Ethiopia, had seized Egypt. News came that he was advancing against Sennacherib, whose own goal was that very conquest of Egypt. So Sennacherib left at once to meet him.
God did not need an army to move an army. A report was enough.
God would work behind the scenes. He would cause the king of Assyria to hear a rumour that drove him back to his own land. There he would suffer death by the sword among his own people (v.7). His own sons killed him (v.37).
A new enemy at his back could have made him drop the smaller target. Sennacherib does the opposite.
But Sennacherib, king of Assyria, was not finished with Jerusalem. News came to him that the King of Ethiopia was coming to make war against him. Even so, he was still determined to subdue Jerusalem. He sent messengers again to Hezekiah, arrogantly telling him, "Do not let your God in whom you trust deceive you, saying, Jerusalem shall not be given into the hand of the king of Assyria" (v.10).
The first message tried to separate the people from their king. This one attacks the God the king trusts.
He had previously sent his spokesmen with this message to the people: "Let not Hezekiah deceive you … neither let Hezekiah make you rely on the Lord" (2 Kings 18:29-30). Now he says to Hezekiah, "Let not your God, on whom you rely, deceive you" (v. 10), likening Him to the false gods that he, the Assyrian, had destroyed. It was a direct "reproach" against the "living God."
The king goes back to the same place, but not in the same frame of mind. The first time he came humbled. This time the insult falls on his God.
Hezekiah goes up to the house of the Lord a second time. It is no more a question of humiliation like the first time, but one of a direct attack on the name of the Lord whom Hezekiah honours. God must take account of this letter. The king places God's cause into God's own hands, but he knows that to honour His name, the Lord will save His humbled people.
The last word here does not belong to Sennacherib. God answers the raging king directly.
With that work done, he must go back humbled and beaten, for he had gone beyond the task he was given... "But I know your sitting down, your going out, your coming in, and your raging against Me. Your raging against Me and your arrogance have come up into My ears. So I will put My ring in your nose and My bridle in your lips, and I will make you go back by the way you came."
- Rumour. God said Sennacherib would hear news that turned him around. The report of Tirhakah's advance is that word coming true.
- Refusal. The distraction did not soften him. Pressed from behind, he still meant to take Jerusalem, so he sent messengers again.
- Reproach. First he attacked the people's trust in Hezekiah. Now he attacks Hezekiah's trust in God, ranking the living God with idols he had already smashed.
- Return to God. Hezekiah goes up a second time, not to plead his own weakness but to hand the insult over to the One insulted.
- Restraint. The ring and bridle image says who was in charge all along: the raging king goes home by the road he came on.
Thus shall ye speak to Hezekiah king of Judah saying Let not thy God, upon whom thou reliest, deceive thee, saying, Jerusalem shall not be delivered into the hand of the king of Assyria.
Sennacherib had marched away from Jerusalem, but he refused to leave the city alone. So he sent a letter ahead of him, aimed at what walls cannot protect: Hezekiah's confidence in God's promise that Jerusalem would not be handed over.
This taunt repeats an earlier one, but the target has changed. One writer traces the shift from the speech made to the people to this letter sent to the king.
Before he left, Sennacherib sends a written message to Hezekiah. He had earlier sent his spokesmen to the people with this message: "Do not let Hezekiah deceive you … do not let Hezekiah make you trust in the LORD" (2 Kings 18:29-30). Now he says to Hezekiah, "Do not let your God in whom you trust deceive you" (v. 10). He likens Him to the false gods that he, the Assyrian, had destroyed. It was a direct "reproach" against the "living God." He had been blocked in his plan and wounded in his pride. Now the rage that filled the Assyrian king shows itself in its true character. It is the God of Israel whom he opposes.
The letter accuses God of misleading His own people. One writer points out where the real deception lay.
This proud enemy of God called on the people of Judah not to let Hezekiah deceive them, but to refuse to believe him. Sennacherib's own aim was to have Judah let him deceive them into thinking that God was no better than the idols of the nations.
His confidence rested on his record:
None of the nations had been able to resist Assyria. So Sennacherib was fully confident that the God of heaven and earth could not deliver Jerusalem either.
The letter left out one fact: where Sennacherib's victories had come from.
Sennacherib is notorious for his reviling letter to Hezekiah, which he sent "to reproach the living God." He had been successful against the cities of Judah, but God did not allow him to enter Jerusalem. He had beaten many lands whose gods were made by human hands. That success filled him with pride and arrogance, so he did not stop at blaspheming the God of Israel. He had hardly realised that he was only God's instrument for punishing the nations. He thought all his victories came from his own strength and skill, and he raged foolishly against the living God.
Hezekiah does not write back. One writer treats his response as a pattern for anyone under attack, and likens Rabshakeh, the Assyrian spokesman, to Satan himself.
How terrible is the host of hell that Satan brings at such a time, to test the faith of the child of God. What threats, what shouting, what blasphemy, what trickery. Rabshakeh's rage is an exact picture of Satan's hatred. "Do not answer him," was Hezekiah's command… The king had the wicked unbelieving letter read to him. Then he "went up to the house of the LORD and spread it before the LORD." Hezekiah's conduct in this fierce trial shows two points of immense value to the tried soul. "Do not answer him," "and spread it before the LORD." Silence and prayer. When Satan throws out a flood of unbelieving questions, do not answer him, but spread it all out before the Lord.
The letter made God's own name the issue. That is the ground Hezekiah prays on.
Hezekiah goes up to the house of the LORD a second time. This time it is not a matter of humbling himself, as it was the first time. Now it is a direct attack on the name of the Lord whom Hezekiah honours. God must take account of this letter. The king places God's cause into God's own hands. But he knows that the Lord will save His humbled people, in order to honour His name.
He wrote without knowing what God had already told Hezekiah:
The proud king of Assyria did not know what lay ahead of him, though the Lord had already told His servant Hezekiah… This was a direct challenge to Israel's God, and God was not slow to take it up.
One writer reads this history as pointing forward to a destruction still to come:
The history we have seen in the earlier chapters is only a testimony to the total destruction that awaits the final Assyrian and his armies. That destruction will come in the latter day, upon the mountains of Israel.
- Taunt — First came the word to the people: "Do not let Hezekiah deceive you." Then came the letter: "Do not let your God in whom you trust deceive you." The quarrel was really with God.
- Target — By calling God a deceiver, Sennacherib wanted Judah to see Him as no better than the idols of the nations.
- Tool — He never grasped that he was only God's instrument for punishing the nations. He took borrowed success as proof of his own strength.
- Trust — Hezekiah answered the enemy with silence. He spread the letter out before the Lord. Silence and prayer.
- Triumph — The attack struck at God's name, so God took the challenge up Himself. One writer also sees here a preview of the final Assyrian's overthrow.
Behold, thou hast heard what the kings of Assyria have done to all countries, destroying them utterly; and shalt thou be delivered?
Sennacherib's letter makes one argument: no nation has survived Assyria, so why would Jerusalem? Behind that logic sits a question about God Himself — is He one more local god who will fail like the rest, and who is the king really insulting?
The first taunt went out to the people, telling them not to let Hezekiah fool them. The letter changes target.
He had already sent his spokesmen to the people with this message: "Do not let Hezekiah deceive you … do not let Hezekiah make you trust in the LORD." Now he says to Hezekiah, "Do not let your God in whom you trust deceive you." He is likening Him to the false gods that he, the Assyrian, had destroyed. It was a direct "reproach" against the "living God." Blocked in his plan and stung in his pride, the Assyrian king is full of rage. That rage now shows its true character. It is the God of Israel whom he opposes.
Assyria's success was real, and it had already done its work on the man boasting about it.
He had been successful against the cities of Judah, but God did not allow him to enter Jerusalem. He had won against many lands whose gods were made by human hands. That success filled him with pride and arrogance, and he went as far as blaspheming the God of Israel. He had little idea that he was only God's instrument to punish the nations. He thought all his victories came from his own strength and skill, and in his folly he raged against the living God.
The letter never mentions who stood behind those earlier conquests. God had a use for Assyria, and that is not the same as greatness.
The Lord used him to beat down the pride of Israel. "However, he does not mean so." He only wants to feed his own pride. Israel should have stood for their true boast, the Lord Himself, and looked to Him in humility to plead their cause. Instead they sought what the nations sought, and their God gave them up to this proud and cruel enemy. But if the Lord disciplines His own people for their faults, He will surely punish the overbearing wickedness of His enemies.
The force of "shall you be delivered?" depends on counting Israel's God among the gods Assyria had crushed. The comparison fails as soon as you ask what those gods were.
Sennacherib went on to say that the gods of many nations had not saved those nations from destruction by Assyria. So, he argued, Judah could not depend on their God to save them. He had little idea that the gods of the nations — his own nation included — were helpless idols, while the God of Israel created all things.
The king writes no reply. He goes back to God, and not for the same reason as the first time.
Hezekiah goes up to the house of the Lord a second time. The first time, the question was one of humiliation. This time it is a direct attack on the name of the Lord whom Hezekiah honours. God must take account of this letter. The king places God's cause into God's own hands. He knows that the Lord will save His humbled people, to honour His name.
God's reply turns the contempt around. The king who despised Zion hears Zion despise him.
The Assyrian came full of his proud confidence. That very thing drew out the arm of the Lord in defence of His despised city. The Assyrian despised Zion, so God speaks by the prophet — and it is Zion that despises the Assyrian. For, as we have already observed, God speaks according to His thoughts.
Sennacherib was not the last man to talk this way. One writer traces the same boast to a later ruler, and on to the last days.
The words that prophecy puts in his mouth are the words spoken by Rabshakeh, the servant of Sennacherib, and by the king in his letter to Hezekiah. The same boastful spirit that marked Sennacherib later marked Antiochus Epiphanes… and it will appear in full in the king of the north in the last days.
- Reproach — The letter's real target is God's name, not just Hezekiah's confidence. It treats Him as one more defeated god.
- Rod — Assyria's record of conquest was borrowed power. He was God's instrument to punish the nations, and he mistook that for his own strength and skill.
- Comparison — The argument only works if God belongs with the idols. Those gods were helpless things; the God of Israel made all things.
- Response — Hezekiah does not reply to the letter. He brings the matter to God and puts God's cause in God's own hands.
- Reversal — His proud confidence drew out God's arm in defence of the city he despised. In the end, that city despises him.
Have the gods of the nations which my fathers have destroyed delivered them Gozan, and Haran, and Rezeph, and the children of Eden that were in Thelassar?
Sennacherib's second message to Hezekiah came as a letter. Verse 12 is its main argument: four conquered peoples, listed as proof that no god had ever stopped Assyria. The question is whether Israel's God belongs on that list at all.
Sennacherib writes to Hezekiah, but the insult aims higher. He had already told the people not to rely on the Lord. Now he tells the king the same thing, and the list of ruined nations is his proof.
Now he says to Hezekiah, "Do not let your God, on whom you rely, deceive you" (v. 10). He puts Him on a level with the false gods that he, the Assyrian, had destroyed. It was a direct "reproach" against the "living God." The Assyrian king was blocked in his plan and wounded in his pride. His rage now shows its true character. It is the God of Israel whom he opposes.
Two of the names would have hit home in Jerusalem. Gozan was no distant rumour — Israel knew it first-hand.
Region in Mesopotamia, to which some of the Israelites were carried captive. The "river Gozan" may mean the river at Gozan, and most identify this with the river Habor, now Khabour.
Telassar is different. Today no one knows where it stood.
City where "the children of Eden" lived, whom the Assyrians had conquered. The names listed with it suggest Telassar was in Mesopotamia, but no one has identified it.
Sennacherib's reasoning was simple. He had beaten every nation he faced, so he drew the obvious conclusion.
None of the nations had been able to resist Assyria. So Sennacherib was fully confident that the God of heaven and earth could not deliver Jerusalem either.
But the list does not compare like with like. Every god on it was the same kind of thing — including the one Sennacherib himself served.
He had no idea that the gods of the nations, including his own, were helpless idols. Israel's God, unlike them, created all things.
Sennacherib treated the fallen cities as proof of his own strength. God says He had planned them long before. The conqueror was only a tool in His hand, and that tool has now gone beyond its orders.
He might insult, whether himself or through his servants. Still the great king of Assyria had to learn that God knew all about him. God had made him only the instrument of His own dealing with the nations. Once that work was done, he had to go back humbled and struck down, for he had exceeded his commission... "Have you not heard that I determined it long ago? I planned it from days of old. Now I have brought it to pass, that you should turn fortified cities into heaps of ruins."
(The older translation Kelly used reads "Have you not heard long ago I have done it"; the sense is the same.)
Sennacherib had beaten kings before. He had never faced one who fought the way Hezekiah did.
He had met the kings of Hamath and Arpad, and others. But when he did, it was on his own terms and in his own way. He had never met an opponent like Hezekiah. In fact, Hezekiah's uncommon power in this contest came from the sense that he was nothing. He knew that "an arm of flesh" was of no use. In a word, it was the Lord or nothing.
Hezekiah never disputes the history in verse 12. He grants every conquest and then names the one thing those nations lacked.
Hezekiah puts the matter entirely into the Lord's hands, and withdraws from it himself. He does not try to make little of the difficulty — he admits that "the kings of Assyria have laid waste all the nations and their countries" — but why? Because their gods were not like the Lord. Those nations never knew what it is to put their case into the hands of the living God who made heaven and earth. This was the secret of their overthrow.
- Reproach. The list of ruined nations is not just a record of the past. It tries to place the living God among the false gods Assyria had already destroyed.
- Record. Gozan was a real place, and Israelite captives had been taken there. Telassar is lost to history. The boast was true as far as it went.
- Reasoning. Sennacherib compared things that were never alike. The idols he had beaten, his own included, were made. Israel's God made heaven and earth.
- Reversal. Those fortified cities fell because God had decided it long before. The conqueror was only His tool, and he had gone past his orders.
- Response. Hezekiah admits every fact in the letter and still refuses to argue. He puts it into God's hands, and the fight becomes Sennacherib against the Lord.
Where is the king of Hamath, and the king of Arpad, and the king of the city of Sepharvaim, of Hena, and Ivvah?
Sennacherib's letter to Jerusalem ends with a list of kings who once ruled Hamath, Arpad, Sepharvaim, Hena and Ivvah. Not one of them survived Assyria, and the letter treats that as proof that Jerusalem's God will fail too.
Sennacherib is not guessing. He reasons from a record of victories, and one writer sums up the conclusion he drew.
None of the nations had been able to resist Assyria. So Sennacherib was fully confident that the God of heaven and earth could not deliver Jerusalem either.
Sennacherib is not only mocking dead kings. One writer shows whose company he puts the God of Israel in.
Now he says to Hezekiah, "Let not your God, on whom you rely, deceive you" (v. 10). He likens Him to the false gods that he, the Assyrian, had destroyed. It was a direct "reproach" against the "living God." The Assyrian king was blocked in his plan and wounded in his pride. The rage that filled him now shows itself in its true character. It is the God of Israel whom he opposes.
The taunt had a grim answer behind it. Assyrian records tell what became of the king of Hamath.
The records show the great cruelty of the Assyrians. They were less humane than the Babylonians. They impaled some of their victims, burnt others, and they even flayed the king of Hamath alive.
Hamath had a history with Israel long before Assyria arrived.
Toi, king of Hamath, sent congratulations to David on his victory over Hadadezer. It was more than a hundred miles further north than Dan, but it became tributary to Solomon and he built store cities there. It afterwards fell into the hands of the Assyrians.
Hezekiah's prayer denies nothing on Sennacherib's list. It admits the conquests and then explains why those nations fell.
Hezekiah puts the matter entirely into Jehovah's hands, and retires out of it himself. He does not try to make little of the difficulty. He admits that "the kings of Assyria have laid waste all the nations and their countries." But why? Because their gods were not like Jehovah. They did not know what it was to put their case into the hands of the living God who made heaven and earth. This was the secret of their overthrow.
Sennacherib counted those victories as his own work. A writer points to the hand that was really behind them.
The Assyrian thought he was only doing his own will in punishing Samaria and Jerusalem. He said, "By the strength of my hand I have done it, and by my wisdom, for I am prudent. I have removed the boundaries of the peoples, and have robbed their treasures, and I have put down the inhabitants like a strong man" (Isa. 10:13). He did not understand that he was only the rod of God's anger, used to carry out God's judgment on His rebellious and idolatrous people. So the Lord said to him, "Shall the axe boast itself against him who chops with it… as if the rod should shake itself against those who lift it up" (verses 5, 15). This proud boasting of the Assyrian only brought the judgment of God upon them (verse 12).
Hezekiah does not write back. He takes the letter somewhere else.
Sennacherib sends the king another message, this time as a letter. Again Hezekiah goes with it straight to the LORD. He read it and went up into the house of the LORD and spread it before the LORD. What blessing there would be in the lives of all God's people! What wonderful evidence of His power and His love we might have — if only we took everything that happened to us at once into the presence of God and spread it before Him!
- The boast. Sennacherib listed the kings who had vanished. That list was his proof that the God of heaven and earth could not deliver Jerusalem either.
- The blunder. He placed the God of Israel among the false gods he had destroyed. That turned a political threat into a direct reproach against the living God.
- The borrowed power. He was only the rod of God's anger, carrying out God's judgment. The axe was boasting against the hand that used it. That boast brought God's judgment on him.
- The distinction. Hezekiah never disputed the conquests. He answered that those nations' gods were not like the Lord. Those nations never knew what it was to place their case in the hands of the living God.
- The habit. Hezekiah carried the letter into God's house and spread it out. That is the pattern: take everything that happens to us straight into God's presence.
And Hezekiah received the letter from the hand of the messengers, and read it; and Hezekiah went up into the house of Jehovah, and spread it before Jehovah.
Sennacherib's second message came in writing. It was meant to break the nerve of a king already under siege. Hezekiah carried that letter up to the temple and laid it open before God. Few scenes in Scripture show so plainly what faith does with a threat.
The insult in the letter went higher than Hezekiah.
Earlier he had sent his spokesmen to the people with this message: "Do not let Hezekiah deceive you … do not let Hezekiah make you rely on the LORD" (2 Kings 18:29-30). Now he says to Hezekiah, "Do not let your God, on whom you rely, deceive you" (v. 10). He puts Him on the same level as the false gods that he, the Assyrian, had destroyed. It was a direct "reproach" against the "living God." Blocked in his plan and wounded in his pride, the Assyrian king now shows his rage in its true character. It is the God of Israel whom he opposes.
Hezekiah had already been to the house of the LORD once in this crisis. This visit had a different character.
Hezekiah goes up to the house of the Lord a second time. The first time, it was a question of humbling himself. This time, it is a direct attack on the name of the Lord whom Hezekiah honours. God must take account of this letter. The king puts God's cause into God's own hands. He knows the Lord will save His humbled people, to honour His own name.
Unrolling the letter in the temple was one man stepping out of a fight and handing it to God.
What gave Hezekiah such uncommon power in this contest? He sensed that he was nothing. He knew that "an arm of flesh" was of no use. In a word, it was Jehovah or nothing. This shows itself above all in the act of spreading the letter before the Lord. Faith enabled Hezekiah to step out of the scene and make it entirely a question between Jehovah and the king of Assyria. It was not Sennacherib and Hezekiah, but Sennacherib and Jehovah.
Hezekiah sent no reply back to the enemy. Two things he did in this trial become one method for anyone under attack.
They read the wicked, unbelieving letter to the king. Then he "went up to the house of the LORD and spread it before the LORD." How Hezekiah behaved during this fierce trial gives the tried soul two points of immense value. "Do not answer him," and "spread it before the LORD." Silence and prayer. When Satan throws out a flood of unbelieving questions, do not answer him, but spread it all out before the Lord. At such a time nothing can sustain the soul but complete dependence on God.
What Hezekiah did with one letter sets a pattern for everything that comes into a believer's life.
Sennacherib sends the king another message, this time as a letter. Again Hezekiah goes with it straight to the LORD. He read it, went up to the house of the LORD, and spread it before the LORD. Think of the blessing there would be in the lives of all God's people! Think what wonderful evidence of His power and His love we might have, if we took everything that happened to us straight into the presence of God and spread it before Him!
The same king who beat Assyria on his knees later fell to a friendly visit from Babylon. The difference lay in what he did with the letters.
When the king of Assyria sent letters to him, "he went up to the house of the LORD and spread them before the LORD." So he conquered. When summoned to prepare for death, "he turned his face to the wall and prayed to the LORD." So he was raised up. But when the ambassadors from the king of Babylon came to him, "he showed them the house of his precious things." SO HE FELL. … If he had gone and spread Merodach's letter before the Lord, the world's flattery would have had no hold on him. Its angry threats had already failed to move him.
- The reproach. The letter mocked Hezekiah, but its real insult was against God. Sennacherib ranked the living God with the idols he had destroyed.
- The refusal. Hezekiah did not reply to the sender. Silence toward the enemy and speech toward God are the two moves this account teaches.
- The spreading. By opening the letter in the temple, Hezekiah stepped out of the quarrel. It now stood as Sennacherib against the LORD, not Sennacherib against him.
- The habit. What he did with one letter is meant for everything: carry it straight into God's presence and lay it open there.
- The letter unspread. The letters from Babylon never reached the temple floor. Threats never beat Hezekiah; flattery did.
And Hezekiah prayed before Jehovah and said, Jehovah, God of Israel, who sittest [between] the cherubim, thou, the Same, thou alone art the God of all the kingdoms of the earth thou hast made the heavens and the earth.
Assyria had crushed nation after nation, and now a letter told Hezekiah that his God could not save him. He sent Sennacherib no reply — he carried the letter into the temple and prayed to the God enthroned above the cherubim.
The letter did more than threaten a city. Sennacherib made a claim about the God Hezekiah trusted.
Now he says to Hezekiah, "Do not let your God, in whom you trust, deceive you" (v. 10). He compares Him to the false gods that he, the Assyrian, had destroyed. It was a direct "reproach" against the "living God." The Assyrian king was blocked in his plan and wounded in his pride. His rage now shows itself for what it really is. It is the God of Israel whom he opposes.
Two things stand together here. The enemy gets no answer, and Hezekiah lays the letter out before God. One writer turns both into a pattern for any believer under attack.
"Do not answer him," "and spread it before the LORD." Silence and prayer. When Satan throws out a flood of unbelieving questions, do not answer him, but spread it all out before the Lord. Nothing at such a time can hold up the soul except complete dependence on God.
Notice what Hezekiah does not ask for first.
Then Hezekiah prayed. In his prayer he did not first plead for help. Instead he beautifully gives God His place of absolute pre-eminence and dignity (v. 15). Does this not remind us of the instructions of the Lord Jesus about how to pray? — "Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name." The word "Father" speaks of God's primacy. "In heaven" speaks of His supremacy. "Hallowed be Your name" speaks of His dignity, as set apart from all others.
The mercy seat lay between the cherubim, and God had set His throne there among His people. One writer carries that place through to the believer's own conflict.
And how he pleads with the Lord who dwells between the cherubim! It is written, they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb. Yes, the mercy seat between the cherubim is our place of victory. The enemy, with all his power, was completely defeated.
The same seat is a throne of majesty.
It is His place and throne of majesty, and He allows nothing there contrary to it (see Isaiah 37:16). Yet it is also where He dwells among His people, in the place of glory, because He has set His throne there. He governs them and speaks to them there.
Hezekiah calls God the God of Israel and in the same breath the God of all the kingdoms and the Maker of heaven and earth. That claim explains why the other nations had already fallen.
Hezekiah puts the matter entirely into the LORD's hands, and steps out of it himself. He does not try to make the difficulty look small. He admits that "the kings of Assyria have laid waste all the nations and their countries." But why? Because their gods were not like the LORD. They never knew what it is to put their case into the hands of the living God who made heaven and earth. This was the secret of their defeat. What triumphant faith! What bold, confident pleading!
Hezekiah leaves the case with God, yet he is not in doubt about the outcome.
The king places God's cause into God's own hands, but he knows that to honour His name, the LORD will save His humbled people.
Hezekiah used the names God had made known in his day. That sets a limit for Christians praying now.
Prayer should always match the revelation given to God's people. What suited Solomon and Hezekiah would not be fitting for us. We should not address God as the God of Israel, nor speak to Him as dwelling between the cherubim.
- Reproach — Sennacherib's letter put the living God on a level with the gods he had destroyed. The quarrel was God's before it was Hezekiah's.
- Retreat — the king met the threat with silence and carried the letter into the temple. Dependence on God, not argument, holds a soul up.
- Reverence — the prayer opens with who God is, not with the crisis. It says "hallowed be Your name" before it asks for anything.
- Reliance — the nations fell because their gods were not like the LORD. Hezekiah hands the whole case to the God who made heaven and earth, and steps aside.
- Result — the appeal rests on God's honour. Because His name is at stake, He saves His humbled people.
Incline thine ear, Jehovah, and hear; open, Jehovah, thine eyes, and see; and hear the words of Sennacherib, who hath sent him to reproach the living God.
Sennacherib, king of Assyria, sent Hezekiah a letter saying his God could not save Jerusalem. Hezekiah spread it before the LORD and asked Him to listen and to look, for what was at stake was the honour of the living God.
Hezekiah did not write a reply. He took the letter into the house of the LORD and spread it out before God:
Sennacherib sends the king another message, this time in the form of a letter. Again Hezekiah goes with it straight to the LORD. He read it and went up into the house of the LORD and spread it before the LORD. What blessing there would be in the lives of all God's people! What wonderful proofs of His power and His love we might have, if everything that happened to us were taken at once into the presence of God and spread out before Him!
He sent no answer of his own:
Instead of answering the letter himself, he committed it entirely to the Lord. Could the Lord be trusted to answer? Yes, indeed! If we too commit such things to the Lord, instead of fighting or arguing, can we not trust the Lord to answer better than we might imagine?
The two requests — incline your ear, open your eyes — are the language of someone who has stopped relying on himself:
So, in giving God His place, we take the place of totally dependent creatures. In that dependence Hezekiah begged the Lord to bend His ear, to hear and take note of the words of Sennacherib. By those words the Assyrian was reproaching the living God Himself (v. 16).
Israel's neighbours prayed to gods that could be seen. One writer sets those gods beside the God of Israel:
God Jehovah was unseen, yet seeing all that went on. These gods could be seen, but could not see. God was the living God, who dwelt in heaven. These had the form of living creatures, but without life, and were found on earth. He acted as He pleased. These could not act at all... They have mouths, but do not speak; eyes, but do not see. They have ears, but do not hear.
The phrase Hezekiah uses marks out one Being and rules out every rival:
The Living God. — To the living God He directed attention. That speaks of one, and only one, Divine Being. There are not two living Gods. The name defines their God, the Lord Jehovah, as completely different from the idols of the nations. Such idols had no life.
Sennacherib put the God of Israel in the same class as the gods he had destroyed:
Now he says to Hezekiah, "Do not let your God in whom you trust deceive you" (v. 10). He is comparing Him with the false gods that he, the Assyrian, had destroyed. It was a direct "reproach" against the "living God." ... It is the God of Israel whom he opposes.
God answered by taking up Hezekiah's own words and putting His own name to them:
The faith of this humble, self-abased man had brought the Lord God of Israel and the king of Assyria into direct contact. So the same Lord God of Israel graciously led the man covered with sackcloth into the rich spoils of victory over his enemy. Hezekiah had said, "He has sent to reproach the living God"; the Lord replies, "Whom have you reproached? — the Holy One of Israel."
With an army at the gates, Hezekiah did the opposite of other kings:
The proud king of Assyria was at the gates of Jerusalem with a mighty conquering army. You would expect to find Hezekiah among his men of war — buckling on his armour, strapping on his sword, mounting his chariot. But no. Hezekiah was different from most kings and captains. He had found a place of strength that Sennacherib knew nothing about. He had discovered a field of battle where he could conquer without striking a blow.
- Spread it. Hezekiah's first move was to spread the threatening letter before God instead of answering it himself. Do the same with every trouble.
- Depend. Asking God to bend His ear and open His eyes gives God His place. It puts us where we belong: totally dependent.
- Living. The title "living God" marks Him off from every idol. The gods people could see could not see; the unseen God sees everything.
- Reproach. Sennacherib treated Israel's God as one more conquered idol. The insult flew past Hezekiah and struck God.
- Answered. God took up Hezekiah's own words and named Himself as the One reproached. The man in sackcloth won a battle he never had to fight.
Of a truth, Jehovah, the kings of Assyria have laid waste the nations and their lands,
Hezekiah has spread Sennacherib's second letter open before God in the temple, and here he agrees with his enemy. Assyria really has flattened nation after nation — so why does saying so strengthen his case instead of weakening it?
Hezekiah does not argue with Sennacherib's record of conquests. He grants it, and then supplies the reason those nations fell.
Hezekiah puts the matter entirely into the Lord's hands, and withdraws from it himself. He does not try to make little of the difficulty — he admits that "the kings of Assyria have laid waste the nations and their lands" — but why? Because their gods were not like the Lord. They did not know what it was to put their case into the hands of the living God who made heaven and earth. This was the secret of their overthrow. What triumphant faith! What bold, confident pleading! Where, we may ask, was the difficulty that such faith would not overcome? Faith that deals with the One who made heaven and earth thinks little of an army, however large. Faith can see vast numbers of angels, and mountains covered with chariots of fire, defending those who can trust the Lord.
So the very fact the enemy uses as a threat becomes the evidence for Hezekiah's plea.
Sennacherib reasoned from a long list of defeated gods to one more defeated god. Commentators point out what that reasoning never took into account.
Sennacherib further declared that the gods of many nations had not saved those nations from destruction by Assyria. So Judah could not depend on their God to deliver them either. How little he realised that the gods of the nations — including his own nation — were helpless idols. The God of Israel, in contrast, created all things.
By his own reasoning, his own god was an idol too.
Sennacherib addressed the letter to a king. His real target was higher, and writers trace the shift in his own words.
Earlier he had sent his spokesmen with this message to the people: "Do not let Hezekiah deceive you… and do not let Hezekiah make you rely on the Lord." Now he says to Hezekiah, "Do not let your God, on whom you rely, deceive you." He is likening Him to the false gods that he, the Assyrian, had destroyed. It was a direct "reproach" against the "living God." The Assyrian king was blocked in his plan and wounded in his pride. The rage that filled him now shows itself in its true character. It is the God of Israel whom he opposes.
Having stated the facts, Hezekiah leaves them where he laid them.
And so the whole trial is cast into the bosom of the Lord. Isaiah gives the answer now, just as he did before. "Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, 'Your prayer to me about Sennacherib king of Assyria I have heard.'" Trust in the Lord is never in vain. It is impossible to trust Him too much.
Two of Hezekiah's decisions belong together: he refused to answer the taunts of Rabshakeh, the Assyrian spokesman, and he took them to God. Writers apply both to the believer under attack, and show how Satan copies that same method.
When the king heard the wicked, unbelieving letter, he "went up to the house of the Lord and spread it before the Lord." Hezekiah's conduct during this fierce trial shows two points of immense value to the tried soul. "Do not answer him," and "spread it before the Lord." Silence and prayer. When Satan throws out a flood of unbelieving questions, do not answer him, but spread it all out before the Lord. Nothing can sustain the soul at such a time except complete dependence on God. As Rabshakeh spoke of the surrounding nations, so Satan points to this one and that; they once claimed to be the servants of God, and where are they now? And you are no better, he says.
What Hezekiah did with one letter fits everything that happens to us.
Suppose we took everything that happens to us at once into the presence of God and spread it out before Him. What blessing there would then be in the lives of all God's people! What wonderful evidences of His power and His love we might have!
- Truly — Hezekiah opens by conceding the enemy's facts. Faith does not shrink the difficulty; it states it plainly to God.
- Because — those nations fell because their gods were helpless idols. Assyria's record proves the weakness of idols, not the weakness of God.
- Whom — the letter insulted the living God, not just a king. That is why the quarrel passes out of Hezekiah's hands.
- Spread — silence toward the accuser, speech toward God. Read the letter, then lay it open before Him and leave it there.
- Heard — God's answer came back through Isaiah. Trust in the Lord is never wasted, and no one can trust Him too much.
and have cast their gods into the fire; for they were no gods, but the work of men's hands, wood and stone; therefore have they destroyed them.
Hezekiah does not argue with the Assyrian king's boast that no nation's god had saved it. He agrees — the burned gods were never gods at all — which leaves one question: is the God of Israel in that class?
Hezekiah does not soften the report of Assyria's conquests. One writer asks why those nations fell, and finds the answer in the God they never turned to.
Hezekiah puts the matter entirely into the Lord's hands, and steps out of it himself. He does not try to make the difficulty look small — he admits that "the kings of Assyria have laid waste all the nations and their lands" — but why? Because their gods were not like the Lord. They did not know what it is to put their case into the hands of the living God who made heaven and earth. That was the secret of their overthrow.
The phrase "the work of men's hands" is the whole argument in four words. A thing that had to be manufactured has no life to give, and one writer presses the absurdity of a mortal producing a rescuer.
Their origin lay in the craftsman's imagination, and their shape came from the workman's skill. "Their idols are silver and gold, the work of human hands" — worthless objects, apart from the value of the metal they were made of. The work of human hands: what could they do for man? How could a dying creature make a living God to save him? What need has a man of a God he can manufacture himself? Man could mould the metal into human form, shape it after the noblest of God's creatures on earth — but where was the life, where the will, where the power?
Hezekiah raises the burnt idols for a reason. Sennacherib had put the God of Israel among them. One writer draws out what that comparison amounted to.
Now he says to Hezekiah, "Do not let your God in whom you trust deceive you" (v. 10), likening Him to the false gods that he, the Assyrian, had destroyed. It was a direct "reproach" against the "living God." The Assyrian king was blocked in his plan and wounded in his pride. The rage that filled him now shows itself in its true character. It is the God of Israel whom he opposes.
Before Hezekiah gets to idols, armies or rescue, he says who God is. The order of his sentences is itself instruction.
Then Hezekiah prayed. He did not begin by pleading for help. Instead, he beautifully gives God His place of absolute pre-eminence and dignity: "O LORD, the God of Israel, enthroned above the cherubim, you are the God, you alone, of all the kingdoms of the earth; you have made heaven and earth" (v. 15). Does this not remind us of the Lord Jesus' instructions on how to pray? — "Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name." "Father" speaks of God's primacy. "In heaven" speaks of His supremacy. "Hallowed be your name" speaks of His dignity, set apart from all others.
The same writer follows Hezekiah's admission through to what he asks for.
He admits that the king of Assyria had conquered other nations and lands. That king burned their gods in the fire, since they were only idols of wood and stone (vv. 17-18). But Hezekiah was appealing to the only true God to save Jerusalem from this arrogant king. He did not limit his reason to Jerusalem's need for deliverance. Rather, he wanted all the kingdoms of the earth to know that God is the LORD, and He alone.
Hezekiah's second visit to the temple has a different character from his first, and the shift explains why the prayer is answered.
Hezekiah goes up to the house of the Lord a second time. It is no longer a matter of humbling himself, as the first time, but of a direct attack on the name of the Lord whom Hezekiah honours. God must take account of this letter. The king places God's cause into God's own hands, but he knows that to honour His name the Lord will save His humbled people. "So now, O LORD our God, save us, please, from his hand, that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that you, O LORD, are God alone" (v. 19).
- Admit — Hezekiah grants every conquest Assyria claims. Faith does not have to shrink the problem before bringing it to God.
- Distinguish — those gods fell because human hands made them. A dying man cannot make a living God to save him.
- Locate the insult — Sennacherib put the God of Israel on the list of gods he had already burned. That taunt was a reproach of the living God.
- Order the prayer — God's place comes first and the plea second — pre-eminence, supremacy, dignity, then the need.
- Aim higher than rescue — Hezekiah asks for more than Jerusalem's safety. He asks that every kingdom on earth learn that the Lord alone is God.
And now, Jehovah our God, I beseech thee, save us out of his hand, that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that thou, Jehovah, art God, thou only.
Assyria's king had sent a letter mocking the God of Israel. Hezekiah brought it to the house of the Lord, and here he asks to be saved — but the reason he gives is God's name, not his own safety.
Before he asks for anything, Hezekiah says who God is. One writer links that order to the way the Lord Jesus taught people to pray:
Then Hezekiah prayed. In his prayer he did not first plead for help. Instead he gives God His place of absolute pre-eminence and dignity: "O LORD, the God of Israel, enthroned above the cherubim, you are the God, you alone, of all the kingdoms of the earth; you have made heaven and earth" (v.15). Does this not remind us of what the Lord Jesus taught about how to pray? — "Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name." "Father" speaks of God's primacy. "In heaven" speaks of His supremacy. "Hallowed be your name" speaks of His dignity as apart from all others.
Hezekiah had already been to the house of the Lord once in this crisis. His second visit had a different character:
Hezekiah goes up to the house of the Lord a second time. This time it is not about humbling himself, as the first visit was. This time the name of the Lord whom Hezekiah honours is under direct attack. God must take account of this letter. The king places God's cause into God's own hands. But he knows that the Lord will save His humbled people, to honour His own name.
Another writer notes how wide Hezekiah makes his reason for asking:
He did not limit the reason for this to Jerusalem's need for deliverance. Rather, he wanted all the kingdoms of the earth to know that God is the LORD, and He alone. Is it possible that God could ignore a plea like this? Certainly not!
Assyria really had destroyed nation after nation. Hezekiah admits it, then turns the fact into his case:
Hezekiah puts the whole matter into the Lord's hands and steps out of it himself. He does not try to make the difficulty look small. He admits that "the kings of Assyria have laid waste the nations and their lands." But why did those nations fall? Because their gods were not like the Lord. They never knew what it was to put their case into the hands of the living God who made heaven and earth. This was the secret of their overthrow. What triumphant faith! What bold, confident pleading!
Hezekiah wore sackcloth instead of armour. One writer reads that as his confession that he could do nothing himself:
The Lord will never refuse to come into a difficulty, if only we let Him act and do not rob Him of His own glory... Others have noticed that grace enabled Hezekiah to step out of the difficulty altogether. He covered himself with sackcloth instead of putting on his armour. That very act declared that he could not cope with the king of Assyria. His posture in the house of the Lord said this — God or nothing.
Hezekiah defended God's honour. One writer shows how God answered in kind:
If Hezekiah carries his God's interests on his heart when the enemy attacks, the Lord answers him. He will not let the world insult "the virgin daughter of Zion," since she is the bride of the Great King... So God defends the character and honour of His beloved ones, guilty but humbled, when they defend His own honour and character.
Hezekiah took the letter and spread it out in God's presence. One writer turns that action into a pattern for everyone:
Again Hezekiah goes with it straight to the LORD. He read it and went up into the house of the LORD and spread it before the LORD. Think what blessing there would be in the lives of all God's people! Think what wonderful evidence of His power and His love we might have — if we took everything that happened to us straight into the presence of God and spread it out before Him!
- Spread it out. The threat came as a letter. Hezekiah did not answer the man. He took the letter to God and spread it open before Him.
- God first. Hezekiah names who God is before he asks for anything. Primacy, supremacy, dignity — then the need.
- Step aside. Sackcloth instead of armour said "God or nothing." God will enter any difficulty, as long as we let Him act and do not rob Him of His glory.
- His name, not our rescue. Hezekiah asks for more than Jerusalem's survival. He asks that all the kingdoms of the earth may know God — a plea God will not ignore.
- He honours those who honour Him. Hezekiah guarded God's honour. God answered by guarding His people's honour — the city He calls the bride of the Great King.
And Isaiah the son of Amoz sent to Hezekiah, saying, Thus saith Jehovah the God of Israel That which thou hast prayed to me concerning Sennacherib king of Assyria I have heard.
The Assyrian army stands outside Jerusalem, its king has sent a letter mocking the God of Israel, and Hezekiah has laid that letter open in the temple. Verse 20 is heaven's reply, and it comes through a prophet, with the words every praying person longs to hear.
Earlier in the crisis Hezekiah had asked Isaiah to pray for him. This time he asked no one; the prophet arrived anyway.
We do not read on this occasion that Hezekiah sent to Isaiah for help. But God at once sent word by Isaiah to assure Hezekiah that his prayer was heard (v.20). He added much more to encourage and strengthen the faith of the godly king.
Commentators note the shape of this differently. One writer contrasts it with an instant reply, pointing out that God chose to route His answer through His servant rather than speak directly into the sanctuary:
Hezekiah did spread Sennacherib's letter before the Lord, but instead of an instant answer, the reply is sent to him by Isaiah (2 Kings 19:20).
The prayer God heard asked for more than the rescue of one city.
In such dependence Hezekiah begged the Lord to listen closely to the words of Sennacherib. By those words Sennacherib was reproaching the living God Himself (v.16)... but Hezekiah was appealing to the only true God to save Jerusalem from this haughty king. He did not confine the reason for this to Jerusalem's need for deliverance. Instead, he wanted all the kingdoms of the earth to know that God is the Lord, and He alone. Is it possible that God could ignore a plea such as this? Certainly not!
Isaiah's answer hands the whole trial to God. One writer draws from it a rule with no limit.
And so the whole trial is placed in the hands of the Lord. Isaiah gives the answer, as before, so now. "Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel: Your prayer to me about Sennacherib king of Assyria I have heard." Trust in the Lord is never in vain. It is impossible to trust Him too much.
God lets Himself be brought into a difficulty, but not on any terms.
The Lord will never refuse to be brought into a difficulty, if only He is allowed to act, and is not robbed of His own glory... It has been observed that Hezekiah was enabled, by grace, to withdraw from the difficulty altogether. He declared his inability to cope with the king of Assyria by the very act of covering himself with sackcloth instead of putting on his armour... The faith of this humble, self-abased man had brought the Lord God of Israel and the king of Assyria face to face. So that same Lord God of Israel graciously led the man covered with sackcloth into the rich spoils of victory over his enemy. Hezekiah had said, "He has sent to reproach the living God"; the Lord replies, "Whom have you reproached? — the Holy One of Israel."
This decree settles the fate of an empire. It also shows who decides such things.
Such was the decree of God, for even in the case of enemies God is just as firm, and governs just as thoroughly, as He does among His friends. It is not man who governs in any case, but God... It is not a question of which party has the most strength or the most wisdom. It is never so in the world, for God acts according to His own sovereignty... The very fact that the Assyrian came full of his proud confidence was what drew out the arm of the Lord in defence of His despised city.
The answer closes with a promise, and with the reason behind it.
And what a beautiful answer to Hezekiah's prayer, sent through the prophet! The Lord had heard, He had seen. He knew everything that had happened and every word that had been spoken. The message ends with the reassuring word, "I will defend this city, to save it, for My own sake, and for My servant David's sake."
- Heard — "I have heard" is God's verdict on the prayer. Trust in Him is never wasted, and He cannot be trusted too much.
- Heard because he stepped back — Hezekiah wore sackcloth instead of armour and left the fight to God. God never refuses a trouble He is brought into, as long as He is free to act.
- Heard through a servant — Hezekiah asked no one this time, yet Isaiah came with the answer.
- Heard by the God who governs — the reply is a decree about an empire. God governs, not man, and strength does not decide.
- Heard for His own sake — God defends the city for His own sake and for His servant David's sake. Hezekiah had asked that all kingdoms would know the Lord alone is God.
This is the word that Jehovah has spoken against him The virgin-daughter of Zion despiseth thee, laugheth thee to scorn; The daughter of Jerusalem shaketh her head at thee.
Sennacherib's army had taken the fortified towns of Judah, and his message mocked the God of Israel. Hezekiah prayed, and this verse opens God's reply. It does not begin with armies or angels. It begins with a woman laughing at the invader.
Hezekiah had no military answer to the invasion, and he did not pretend to one. That surrender made room for God to act.
The Lord will never refuse to be brought into a difficulty, if only we let Him act and do not rob Him of His own glory… Others have noted that grace enabled Hezekiah to step out of the difficulty altogether. He covered himself with sackcloth instead of putting on his armour. That very act declared that he could not cope with the king of Assyria. His attitude in the house of the Lord said this — God or nothing. The faith of this humble, self-abased man had brought the Lord God of Israel and the king of Assyria into direct contact. So that same Lord God of Israel graciously led the man in sackcloth into the rich spoils of victory over the enemy.
The title God gives the city seems impossible. Jerusalem was frightened, weak and far from faithful.
"The virgin, the daughter of Zion." Was there no fear then? Was there no anguish of heart? How could this be said truthfully? Because God speaks according to His own thoughts. God looks at Zion as something the Assyrian's foot had never defiled. She was a virgin daughter of Zion, and God never meant that the Assyrian should walk there. He had allowed him to ravage elsewhere. But Zion, however unfaithful Zion might be, was not set aside for the hand of the Assyrian. Zion might even fall in war, but the Assyrian himself must fall.
The scorn in this verse is not Jerusalem's own boast. God puts these words in her mouth, and they run against everything the eye could see.
The Assyrian came full of proud confidence, and that very fact drew out the arm of Jehovah in defence of His despised city. But when He speaks through the prophet, because the Assyrian despised Zion, it is Zion that despises the Assyrian.
Hezekiah had prayed for God's name, not just for his own survival.
If Hezekiah carries the interests of his God on his heart when it comes to the enemy, Jehovah answers him. He will not let the world reproach "the virgin-daughter of Zion," because she is the bride of the Great King… So God defends the character and honour of His beloved ones, guilty but humbled, when they defend His own honour and character.
The verse is God's verdict on a man. The next words name his real offence.
Verse 21 uses strong words indeed… We are not meant to copy them in the way we deal with enemies of the truth today. But this is God's Word about what was a righteous response at that time to a man who was a wicked enemy of God. For God questions Sennacherib, "Whom have you mocked and reviled? Against whom have you raised your voice and lifted your eyes to the heights?" The answer is most solemn — "Against the Holy One of Israel."
Commentators also read the episode forward — a proud king, a humbled remnant, a city that shakes its head.
We may see in Sennacherib a sample of "the wilful king"… Hezekiah too, covered with sackcloth, may be seen as a sample of the righteous remnant in the last days. They cry for deliverance from the hand of the mighty oppressor. Then the Lord shall "bring them into the wilderness and speak tenderly to them," and "the virgin, the daughter of Zion, shall shake her head at him who made the earth to tremble and shook the kingdoms."
- Helplessness first. Hezekiah put on sackcloth instead of armour. He stepped out of the fight, and God and Sennacherib stood face to face.
- Naming next. God calls a trembling, unfaithful city "the virgin daughter of Zion." He speaks according to His own thoughts, not according to her state.
- Reversal follows. The Assyrian despised Zion. In God's word Zion despises the Assyrian, and the mockery comes back on him.
- The principle behind it. God defends the honour of His people, guilty but humbled, when they defend His honour.
- The reach of it. Sennacherib's real offence was against the Holy One of Israel. Commentators see in his fall a picture of a last oppressor, and of a remnant rescued the same way.
Whom hast thou reproached and blasphemed? and against whom hast thou exalted the voice? Against the Holy one of Israel hast thou lifted up thine eyes on high.
The Assyrian army stands outside Jerusalem. God answers the taunts Himself, and He does it with a question. It names the one Sennacherib had insulted. A military crisis becomes a matter of who God is.
God does not argue with Sennacherib's boast about chariots. He asks who the target was, and the answer settles everything.
God questions Sennacherib: "Whom have you mocked and reviled? Against whom have you raised your voice and lifted your eyes to the heights?" The answer is most solemn — "Against the Holy One of Israel" (v.22). Through his messengers Sennacherib reproached the Lord. He told Him in effect that Assyria had enough chariots to leave God helpless against him.
This is not just a formal title. It says what God is.
The name "Holy One of Israel" means that the God of Israel is completely separate from all evil. His eyes are too pure to look at evil. The seraphim say the same thing when they cry out in front of His throne: "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts."
The title also carries a signature. It belongs above all to the book of Isaiah, and the prophet who used it most is the very man delivering this message to Hezekiah.
In the Old Testament God is spoken of as "The Holy One of Israel" only about 37 times. Just 30 of these occur in Isaiah, so it is the characteristic title of God in his book.
Sennacherib's success was real. He never understood where it came from. When he lifted his eyes on high, his usefulness ended.
The Assyrian in his foolishness had lifted up his eyes against the Holy One of Israel. He had been the rod of the wrath of God. God had given him this power long before. But he had become proud of his success, and he had not feared to lift himself up against God. He had said: "I have come up… I will cut down… and I will enter… I have dug… I have dried up…" Yet it was the Lord who had decreed the ruin of the nations and of His people by this means.
The pattern is wider than one king. It is how God has often dealt with proud powers.
God uses the pride and wickedness of the wicked to chastise His people. Afterwards He destroys the instrument. The Assyrian, God's rod to strike Israel, glorifies himself against God, who breaks the rod.
Hezekiah had already named the real offence himself. God's reply takes up his own words. It came to a man who had refused to fight in his own strength.
As others have observed, grace enabled Hezekiah to step out of the difficulty altogether. He showed he could not cope with the king of Assyria. He did it by covering himself with sackcloth instead of putting on his armour. His posture in the house of the Lord said this — God or nothing. The faith of this humble, self-abased man had brought the Lord God of Israel and the king of Assyria into direct contact. So that same Lord God of Israel graciously led the man in sackcloth into the rich spoils of victory over the enemy. Hezekiah had said, "He has sent to reproach the living God"; the Lord replies, "Whom have you reproached? — the Holy One of Israel."
The sentence pronounced in this chapter was not a threat left hanging. It landed twice — outside Jerusalem, and later in Nineveh.
"That night the angel of Jehovah went out and struck down a hundred and eighty-five thousand in the camp of the Assyrians. When they got up early in the morning, they were all dead bodies." As a result the king retreats in dismay. He returns and lives in Nineveh. But as Jehovah had sent a blast upon him in Palestine, so now he must fall in his own land… So every word of Jehovah came true.
Zion here is weak, mocked, and told her God cannot save. One writer sees the same picture in the church.
If it is so with Jerusalem, how much more so with the Assembly, the Bride of Christ. She is a weak remnant among ruins, lacking the power to bring to birth. She is brought so low that the enemy can say, "Do not let your God, in whom you trust, deceive you." Yet she is precious to Christ, who will make her sit with Him on His throne.
- Reproach. God's question is not empty words. He makes Sennacherib see who he had really insulted — the Holy One of Israel, not a small city.
- Reality. That title means God stands completely apart from all evil. The seraphim cry out the same holiness at His throne. So the insult could not stand.
- Rod. Sennacherib's power was lent to him. Once the instrument boasted against the hand that wielded it, God broke the rod.
- Reply. Hezekiah's sackcloth said "God or nothing." That faith brought the Lord and the Assyrian face to face. God then answered him in his own words.
- Rescue. One night settled it. Sennacherib later fell in his own land. Every word God spoke here came true.
By thy messengers thou hast reproached the Lord, and hast said, With the multitude of my chariots have I come up To the height of the mountain, to the recesses of Lebanon, And I will cut down its tall cedars, the choice of its cypresses; And I will enter into its furthest lodging-place, [into] the forest of its fruitful field.
God's reply to Sennacherib does not argue — it quotes the king's own boast back to him, and the boast is all about himself. He claims Lebanon's heights and its tallest trees, which raises two questions: whose forests were they, and who gave him the power to reach them?
Sennacherib never spoke to God directly. He sent messengers, and God takes their words as aimed at Himself. One commentator spells out what the boast claimed:
Through his messengers Sennacherib reproached the Lord. He told Him, in effect, that Assyria had enough chariots to make God helpless against him. Sennacherib's proud boasting continues through verse 24. He said he would cut down the tall cedars of Lebanon and its cypress trees, leaving the whole country defenceless against his power.
Read the boast and one word carries it. God's answer sets that list of claims beside the truth about who had decided the outcome:
He had said: "I have come up … I will cut down … and I will enter … I have dug … I have dried up …" (verses 23–24). Yet it was the Lord who had decreed the ruin of the nations and of His people by this means (verses 25–26).
The verse ends with a phrase older translations rendered "the forest of his Carmel." One reference work explains the reading:
The 'forest of his CARMEL' in 2 Kings 19:23 and Isaiah 37:24 reads, in the margin and in the Revised Version, 'forest of his fruitful field.' It does not refer to any forest connected with Carmel.
The ESV reads "its most fruitful forest." The trees he threatens also carry a meaning of their own in Scripture:
In Scripture the cedar always stands for power or high position, if not pride. When the king of Israel would pour contempt upon the king of Judah, he compared himself to a cedar and Judah's king to a thistle (2 Kings 14:9). The Psalmist uses it to express the prosperity of the righteous, "He shall grow as the cedar in Lebanon" (Psalm 92:12). When judgment comes upon the great of the earth, the prophet Isaiah says it is the day of Jehovah upon the cedars of Lebanon (2:13).
The forests and waters in the boast were not Sennacherib's. Neither was the power that crushed the cities. God's reply, in the verses that follow, turns the whole speech inside out:
How withering indeed if only the king of Assyria had paid attention to it! Had he not heard long ago that God had made the forests of Lebanon and the waters the king boasted of drying up? It was the God who made these things who had given Sennacherib his power to crush fortified cities into heaps of ruins. … Though these nations gave way to Assyria, Assyria would yet give way and perish like the grass. How useless her boasting was then!
Other writers press the same point using Isaiah's picture of a tool:
He did not understand that he was only the rod of God's anger, used to carry out God's judgment on His rebellious and idolatrous people. So the Lord said to him, "Shall the axe boast over him who hews with it… as if a rod should wield him who lifts it?" This proud boasting of the Assyrian only brought God's judgment down on them.
Commentators see more here than the fall of one ancient kingdom. They read Sennacherib as a shadow of a later ruler God will also bring down:
The total fall of the haughty Assyrian's kingdom followed a few years after. God is able to bring down those who walk in pride. How blessed to hear His voice and know His love! Real as that fall was, it was no more than a shadow of the great chief of the eastern nations in the last days. In the same way, Judah's rescue and blessing under the son of David of that day was only the witness of a brighter age and a more lasting glory. Then Jehovah will lift up the one who was low and bring down the high one.
- Boast. Sennacherib's message claimed his chariots were many enough to leave God helpless. He would also strip the land of its tallest trees.
- Target. He aimed his words at Jerusalem. God took them as reproach sent to Himself by the king's own messengers.
- Borrowed. Every item in the boast belonged to God. He made the forests and the waters, and He gave Assyria its power to crush fortified cities.
- Answer. An axe cannot brag against the hand that swings it; the rod that lifts itself against its owner is the rod that gets broken.
- Shadow. In Scripture the cedars of Lebanon stand for power and pride. Their fall previews the day when God brings the high one low and lifts up the one who was low.
I have digged, and have drunk strange waters, And with the sole of my feet have I dried up all the streams of Matsor.
In God's reply through Isaiah, the Lord quotes Sennacherib's own bragging back to him. Here the boast peaks. The Assyrian king claims he can find water anywhere and dry up any river in his path. Who made those waters? And who gave him the strength he is so proud of?
The whole speech God quotes is a run of first-person claims. One writer lines them up, then names the One who had decided what would happen.
He had been the rod of God's wrath. God had given him this power long before. But he had become proud of his success, and he was not afraid to lift himself up against God. He said: "I have come up … I will cut down … and I will enter … I have dug … I have dried up …" (vv. 23-24). Yet it was the Lord who had decreed the ruin of the nations and of His people by this means (vv. 25-26).
Sennacherib treats rivers as things he can handle. God replies by naming their Maker.
God's answer to him comes in verses 25-28. How withering indeed if only the king of Assyria had paid attention to it! Had he not heard long ago that God had made the forests of Lebanon and the waters the king boasted of drying up? It was the God who made these things who had given power to Sennacherib to crush fortified cities into heaps of ruins. … Though these nations gave way to Assyria, Assyria would yet give way and perish like the grass. How futile was her boasting then!
The same writer explains the point of the boast: the king meant to leave "the whole country defenceless against his power" (Leslie M. Grant).
Assyria really was winning. The king misread why. Isaiah had already answered him with a picture from a workshop.
The Assyrian thought he was only doing his own will in punishing Samaria and Jerusalem. He said, "By the strength of my hand I have done it, and by my wisdom, for I am prudent … I have removed the boundaries of the people, and have robbed their treasures" (Isa. 10:13). He did not understand that he was only the rod of God's anger, used to carry out God's judgment on His rebellious and idolatrous people. So the Lord said to him, "Shall the axe boast itself against Him that hews with it … as if the rod should shake itself against them that lift it up" (verses 5, 15). This proud boasting of the Assyrian only brought God's judgment upon them (verse 12).
The king boasts as if no one were watching. God's reply shows otherwise.
God knew Assyria's dwelling place and all her activities, including her rage against God Himself (v. 27). If she had kept her hostility to the nations she conquered, she might not have fallen so soon. But she added blasphemy against the God who had exalted her. So God would put His hook in her nose and His bridle in her lips and turn her back the way she had come (v. 28). So God may use one nation to punish another. But when that nation is then puffed up with pride, God knows how to bring it down to a humiliating level.
Commentators also read this episode as a pattern for something still ahead.
The history in the earlier chapters is only a testimony to the total destruction that awaits the final Assyrian. His armies will fall with him, in the latter day and upon the mountains of Israel. This will be all the more striking because God will first let him capture Jerusalem. He will kill some of the men and treat some of their women with contempt. Jerusalem must pay the penalty of its sins.
- Borrowed strength. The campaigns behind the boast were real. But God gave Sennacherib the power to crush those fortified cities.
- Borrowed water. He claimed to dig wells and dry up rivers. God made that water, and the forests too.
- Borrowed role. He was the rod in God's hand for carrying out judgment on His people. A rod that shakes itself at the arm lifting it is only boasting against its Maker.
- Borrowed time. God knew his comings and goings and his rage. The hook in the nose and the bridle in the lips send the boaster home like an animal.
- Borrowed script. Commentators see the whole scene as a shadow. A final proud invader will rise, and God will destroy him just as fully.
Hast thou not heard long ago that I have done it? And that from ancient days I formed it? Now have I brought it to pass, that thou shouldest lay waste fortified cities [into] ruinous heaps.
Sennacherib had just finished boasting. He listed the cedars he cut down and the waters he dried up. God answers by claiming those conquests as His own work, planned long ago. Whose plan was the great king really carrying out?
The king boasts in verses 21–24. Verse 25 is God's reply. It takes from him the one thing he was proudest of: the credit for his own success.
God gives His answer in verses 25-28. How crushing it would have been, if only the king of Assyria had paid attention to it! Had he not heard long ago that God had made the forests of Lebanon and the waters the king boasted of drying up? The God who made these things is the One who had given Sennacherib power to crush fortified cities into heaps of ruins.
The words "long ago" and "from days of old" put God's plan first and the events second.
God does not shape His thoughts to fit circumstances as they come up. His thoughts and plans control the circumstances. What a blessing to know that He is Master of all things! Even "the wrath of man praises Him, and the rest of that wrath He holds back." Nothing else can give the smallest comfort while we live in such a scene of confusion as the one around us.
God had a purpose in sending the Assyrian against His own people. The Assyrian himself knew nothing about it.
God sent the Assyrian to discipline His people because of their sins. The Assyrian had no idea what God was doing. His heart was full of pride, and he was set on destroying and conquering nations. He never realised that he was only God's instrument, carrying out God's will against those nations because of their evil deeds.
God may use a man without approving him. The ruined cities were part of God's plan. The insults thrown at Jerusalem were not.
The great king of Assyria could insult as much as he liked, by his own mouth or by his servants. Still he had to learn that God knew all about him, and had made him only the instrument of God's own dealings with the nations. Once that work was done, he had to go back humbled and struck down, because he had gone beyond his orders. Would God approve his rage against Himself?
If God raised Assyria up, then no empire rises on its own strength.
It is not man that governs in any case, but God. God is sovereign, and so He acts according to His own will. It is not a question of the party that has the most strength or the most wisdom. It is never so in the world, for God acts according to His own sovereignty. Babylon, Persia, Greece and Rome did not gain world empire because they were stronger than others.
The same hand that lifts a nation up can set it down, and pride is what triggers the reversal.
So God may use one nation to punish another. But when that nation then swells with pride, God knows how to bring it down to a humiliating level.
Hezekiah's reign fills an unusual amount of space in the record. There is a reason for that beyond the history itself.
The record gives much of Hezekiah's life, because in his reign Sennacherib's attack on Jerusalem was a picture of a still greater rescue from a future king of Assyria. God controls the evil and the passions of men so completely that He makes them serve His purpose. Through them He gives a hint of what He will yet do for His own glory.
- Purpose. What Sennacherib called his achievement, God called His own plan. Circumstances do not shape God's thoughts; His thoughts control the circumstances.
- Permission. Sennacherib did not seize his power. The God who made Lebanon's forests gave him strength to level fortified cities.
- Pride. He was an instrument who never knew it, believing he was doing his own will while carrying out God's.
- Punishment. He went beyond his orders and raged against God Himself. The hand that raised Assyria up knew how to bring it low.
- Preview. God let the rescue of Jerusalem stand in the record as a picture of a greater rescue still to come.
And their inhabitants were powerless, They were dismayed and put to shame; They were [as] the growing grass, and [as] the green herb, [As] the grass on the housetops, and grain blighted before it be grown up.
Sennacherib had boasted about the cities he destroyed. God's answer turns the boast inside out: the people of those cities had already lost their strength, like thin grass on a roof that dries up before it can stand.
Whatever Sennacherib achieved, God was doing through him. The peoples he beat had lost their strength before he arrived.
The Assyrian, the great king, might insult God, whether himself or through his servants. Even so, he had to learn that God knew all about him. God was making him only the instrument of His own dealing with the nations. When that work was done, he had to go back humbled and struck down, because he had gone beyond what God sent him to do. Would God approve his rage against Himself?
A tool gets no credit for the work, and no promise of safety. One writer starts with the Midianites, who once overran Israel, and then turns to Isaiah 10, where God calls the Assyrian the rod of His anger.
The Midianites did not know that it was Jehovah who had delivered Israel into their hands. In reality they were only the rod that it pleased Him to use to punish His people. As with the Assyrian (Isa. 10): "Ah, Assyria, the rod of my anger; the staff in their hands is my fury," and so on. When He has finished with His rod, He can break it or burn it.
Grass in the thin dust on a flat roof has no root. It is green for a morning and gone by noon. One writer draws out what that picture says about people under God's judgment.
Isaiah uses the same illustration of grass on the housetops to show God's judgment on His enemies. He says, "They were like plants of the field and like tender grass, like grass on the housetops, blighted before it is grown." It is a figure to show the effect of judgment on the haters of Zion. Under the wrath of God, it would soon be clear that they were cut off from the sources of nourishment and life. So they would wither away like grass that has no depth of soil. There would be no fruit, then, for God or man — nothing for the mower or for the binder of the sheaves.
Hezekiah had worked hard on the city's defences. Then he told his people where their real strength lay.
Hezekiah did all he could to defend the city. He cut off the water, built walls, raised towers, made darts and shields, and appointed captains. Then he spoke his comforting message. "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or dismayed before the king of Assyria and all the horde that is with him, for there are more with us than with him. With him is an arm of flesh, but with us is the LORD our God, to help us and to fight our battles." No wonder the people rested on the words of Hezekiah. They are good and helpful words to rest on in faith in all our warfare down here.
The Assyrian empire fell soon after this. One writer reads that fall as real history, and also as a shadow of something later.
The total fall of the haughty Assyrian's kingdom followed a few years later. Those who walk in pride God is able to humble. How blessed to hear His voice and know His love! Real as it was, however, it was no more than a shadow of the great chief of the eastern nations in the latter day.
- Purpose — God was dealing with the nations; the Assyrian was only the instrument in His hand.
- Instrument — When God has finished with a rod, He can break it or burn it.
- Rootless — Grass on a housetop is cut off from soil and water: green for an hour, then withered, with nothing left for the mower.
- Strength — With the invader was an arm of flesh; with Hezekiah's people was the LORD their God, to help them and fight their battles.
- Shadow — God humbled this proud king within a few years, and his fall is only a shadow of a greater oppressor still to come.
But I know thine abode, and thy going out, and thy coming in, And thy raging against me.
God has just quoted Sennacherib's boasts back to him — what he had climbed, cut down, dug and dried up (vv. 23–24). His answer begins with knowledge, not a threat: God has watched the whole campaign and heard the rage behind it.
One writer sets the verse beside the speech it answers. The king's account of his career is one "I" after another. God answers with an "I" of His own.
The Assyrian in his foolishness had lifted up his eyes against the Holy One of Israel. He had been the rod of God's anger. God had given him this power long before. But he had grown proud of his success, and he was not afraid to lift himself up against God. He had said: "I have come up … I will cut down … and I will enter … I have dug … I have dried up …" But it was the Lord who had decreed the ruin of the nations and of His people by this means.
The knowledge God claims is not bare surveillance. It exposes what the king never grasped: that his victories were a commission, and he had gone past it.
He could insult all he liked, himself or through his servants. Still, the great king of Assyria had to learn that God knew all about him. God had made him only the instrument of His own dealings with the nations. That work done, he must go back humbled and struck down, for he had gone beyond his commission. Would God approve his rage against Himself?
The list covers the king's whole life — where he settles, and everything he does. The last item is the one that decides his case.
God knew Assyria's dwelling place and all her activities, including her rage against God Himself (v. 27). If she had confined her hostility to the nations she conquered, she might not have fallen so soon. But she added blasphemy against the God who had exalted her. So God would put His hook in her nose and His bridle in her lips, and turn her back by the way she had come (v. 28). God may use one nation to punish another. But when that nation is then puffed up with pride, God knows how to bring it down to a humiliating level.
Earlier in the siege, the Assyrian officer Rabshakeh had spoken to Hezekiah's three officials. One writer points out who else heard him.
But it was not only Eliakim and Shebna and Joah who heard; it was the Lord. Rabshakeh never imagined that the Lord God was listening. He never imagined that the Lord God would answer so soon. But now he had dared to use that name for deliberate blasphemy. He had defied the authority of the Lord where it was known. He had defied God!
God let the Assyrians' words run a long way. One writer marks where the limit lay.
How much fury against God's people they show! What boasting about former victories they make! What blasphemy and railing against God they are permitted to utter!… Their rage was ungoverned. Their fury seemed unbridled. Yet God still kept control, and in His own time reined them in.
Hezekiah had spread the invader's letter out before God. It did not go unread.
The invader's letter, with all its boastings, all its threats, all its scoffs, all its revilings, is laid down quietly before the Lord. It has reached the right address. The Lord declares about its writer: "I know your sitting down and your going out and coming in, and your raging against me."
This rescue points past itself. One writer sees in Hezekiah a picture of someone greater.
So Hezekiah is a picture of the true Immanuel, the One before whom the Assyrian, the destroyer of Israel, will fall. This is a very important history, as it foreshadows the events of the last days.
- Known — God had watched the king's every move. His conquests were a commission, not the fruit of his own greatness.
- Heard — the officer's speech and the invader's letter both had a listener the Assyrian never counted on.
- Weighed — of everything on the list, the raging against God brings the sentence. Conquest alone would not have brought him down so soon.
- Bridled — fury that looked out of control was never out of God's control. He reined it in at His own time and turned the king back by the way he came.
- Answered — the letter Hezekiah laid before God reached the right address. The same story looks on to the last days, when the Assyrian falls before the true Immanuel.
Because thy raging against me and thine arrogance is come up into mine ears, I will put my ring in thy nose, and my bridle in thy lips, And I will make thee go back by the way by which thou camest.
God now speaks straight to Sennacherib, the Assyrian king, and the charge is that heaven has heard his fury. A hook, a bridle, a forced retreat — the images answer the question this chapter raises: who is in charge when a world power marches on God's people?
The Assyrian believed the campaign was his own. God's reply says otherwise. He knew the man's every move, and He was using him for purposes that were not his own.
The great king of Assyria could insult all he liked, whether by himself or by his servants. He still had to learn that God knew all about him, and was making him only the instrument of His own dealings with the nations. That work done, he had to go back humbled and struck down, for he had gone beyond his commission. Would God approve his rage against Himself?
Serving God's purpose gave the Assyrian no licence. One writer connects this to Isaiah's earlier word, which calls Assyria the rod of God's anger:
God used Assyria as the rod of His anger to discipline Israel (Isaiah 10:5-6) and other nations. But Assyria was only the instrument in God's hand for carrying out His judgments. He did not understand this, so he boasted as though his military campaigns had succeeded by his own power.
Both images come from handling animals. A hook through the nose and a bit in the mouth mean the creature no longer picks its own direction. One writer sets the verse beside God's words to Gog, another enemy God addresses in Ezekiel:
God's answer is: "…I will put My hook in your nose, and My bridle in your lips, and I will turn you back by the way you came" (Isaiah 37:29). Compare these words with God's words to Gog in Ezekiel 38:4: "I will turn you back, and put hooks into your jaws, and I will bring you forth."
Older translations say "bridle in your lips" where the ESV says "my bit in your mouth," and "arrogance" where the ESV says "complacency."
From the walls of Jerusalem the army looked unstoppable. In fact it was on a leash.
What fury against God's people they show! What blasphemy against God they are allowed to utter!… Ungoverned as their rage was, and unbridled as their fury seemed, God still kept control, and in His own time reined them in.
This sentence on Sennacherib is also God's answer to Hezekiah. The king had carried God's honour on his heart.
If Hezekiah keeps the interests of his God on his heart when the enemy threatens, the Lord answers him. He will not allow the world to insult "the virgin-daughter of Zion," since she is the bride of the Great King… So God defends the character and honour of His beloved ones, guilty but humbled, when they defend His own honour and character.
God named the road the king would take home. That is how it happened: a retreat, and then death in his own city.
So the king retreats in dismay and returns to live in Nineveh. But as the Lord had struck him in Palestine, so now he must fall in his own land. "As he was worshipping in the house of Nisroch his god, Adrammelech and Sharezer his sons struck him with the sword." So every word of the Lord was carried out.
One writer finds the same hook in King Saul's hunt for David. God turned Saul aside against his will, though his heart never changed.
The mightiest man is only a reed in the hands of the Almighty. Saul must prophesy; he is no stronger than his servants, though his evil heart still held its purpose against David. But God put a hook in his nose and turned him in a way he would not go, as He did with the Assyrian in a later day (see 2 Kings 19:28).
Commentators also read the episode as a picture of something still to come.
The past Assyrian returned to his own land, and there was killed by his sons… A future Assyrian, after partial success, is to come up a second time, and there and then be overwhelmed.
- Heard — The rage that rang round Jerusalem's walls reached God's ears. Nothing said against Him is missed.
- Held — The Assyrian was "only the instrument in God's hand," yet he boasted as if the victories were his own.
- Hooked — Hook and bit are images from handling animals. The invader keeps his fury but loses his freedom of movement. God "still kept control, and in His own time reined them in."
- Home — He goes back by the road he came, then falls to his sons' swords in the house of his god. "Every word of the Lord was carried out."
- Honour — God defends "the virgin-daughter of Zion" because Hezekiah first defended God's name. Guard His honour, and He guards yours.
And this [shall be] the sign unto thee They shall eat this year such as groweth of itself, And in the second year that which springeth of the same; But in the third year sow ye and reap, And plant vineyards and eat the fruit thereof.
Assyria's army had surrounded Hezekiah's city, stripped its fields, and wrecked its farming year. God answers with a sign about crops instead of armies: it says nothing direct about the enemy's defeat, only about eating, sowing and planting.
This sign came before Hezekiah asked for anything. One writer draws two things out of it.
Hezekiah had already received the sign of the enemy's final overthrow (2 Kings 19:29-31) without asking for it. God had kept this remnant alive with no human help, and from it He would form the new Israel. Here Hezekiah learns by what means this remnant would be saved.
For two years they would eat what the land gave on its own. Grain dropped at the last harvest would come up untended. One writer explains why.
They would continue in the land to eat that year "such as grows of itself," a volunteer crop. Clearly they had not been able to sow any crop, so they could not count on a harvest. But God would provide what they needed. The same would be true in the second year, most likely because conditions were still unsettled. But in the third year they were to sow and reap, to plant vineyards and eat of their fruit (v.29). So for three years Jerusalem had the assurance of safety from the enemy's attacks.
A promise hides inside that farming calendar. Nobody plants a vineyard in occupied land. If they will plant in the third year, the enemy will be gone.
The three years rise in stages: scraps, then stronger growth, then harvest and wine. One writer reads that rise as the remnant's own story.
after
In the first year they would eat what grew from the fallen grain. It was a poor harvest, but it would keep them from dying of hunger. As prophecy, it is the story of how the remnant at Jerusalem was preserved. In the second year the growth would be stronger. In the third year the harvest and the fruit of the vine would come... The Lord would establish the remnant of Judah again, and fill them with His blessings.
Grain comes up in a ruined field where nothing should be growing. One writer sees more than survival in that contrast.
In glowing colours the Holy Spirit shows us this striking sign, shining in vividness and freshness against the dark background of the enemy's overwhelming devastation of the land... Here, again, we find resurrection pictured.
The next verse turns the harvest picture into a promise for the survivors. Watch the order, and watch who does the work.
God tells them that their small remnant who have escaped the offence of Assyria would "take root downward and bear fruit upward" (v.30). A stable character of being properly rooted would result in fruit "upward", that is, fruit for God... "The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this." How good for Jerusalem to depend on Him!
One writer carries the sign past Jerusalem and applies it to the church.
If this is true of Jerusalem, how much more of the Assembly, the Bride of Christ. She is a weak remnant in the middle of ruins. She lacks the power to bring to birth, and she is brought so low that the enemy can say, "Let not your God, in whom you trust, deceive you." But she is precious to Christ. He will make her sit with Him on His throne, and will plant her forever in the courts of God like a tree covered with blossom and fruit.
- Unasked — Hezekiah never asked for this sign. God gave the proof of the enemy's overthrow before the king requested it.
- Unsown — For two years, food would come up from grain no one planted. A city under siege could not sow, so God supplied what they needed.
- Unhindered — By the third year they would plant vineyards again. Jerusalem had three years of promised safety from the enemy.
- Rooted — The survivors would take root downward, then bear fruit upward. Roots come first, then fruit for God.
- Raised — Writers see resurrection pictured in the sign. What God did for a ruined city, He will do for every weak remnant He means to plant and make fruitful.
And the remnant that is escaped of the house of Judah Shall again take root downward, and bear fruit upward;
Sennacherib's army surrounded Jerusalem, the land lay stripped, and Hezekiah had laid the Assyrian king's threatening letter before God. God's answer promises the survivors new roots and new fruit — but what does that growth picture, and who makes it happen?
God ties the promise to a sign spread over three harvests. One writer walks through what each of those years meant for the people shut in the city.
The Lord then gives Hezekiah a sign of His deliverance: in the first year they would eat what grew from the fallen grain — a poor harvest, but enough to keep them from starving. Prophetically, this is the history of the preservation of the remnant at Jerusalem. In the second year there would be strength of growth; in the third year the harvest and the fruit of the vine would come. … The Lord would establish the remnant of Judah again and fill them with His blessings.
The order of the two directions matters. What goes down out of sight comes before anything worth seeing above ground.
Continuing His prophecy of blessing to Judah, God tells them that their small remnant who have escaped the attack of Assyria would "take root downward and bear fruit upward" (v. 30). A settled, properly rooted condition would result in fruit "upward" — that is, fruit for God.
An army stood outside the walls, so a promise about survivors leaving the city raises a question. The same writer asks what they are escaping from.
The remnant of Judah would not be so shut up in Jerusalem as to be prisoners there. It is not escaping from Mount Zion, but escaping from Sennacherib. "The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this." How good for Jerusalem to depend on Him!
That zeal belongs to God alone. One writer shows where it comes into view.
Further, it comes to light in God's sovereignty, which preserves a remnant in days of darkness and failure, and while the enemies of the people of God are attacking them. Scripture records this in 2 Kings 19 and in Isaiah 37.
Isaiah records the same promise. One writer asks what such a sign, given to a wrecked land, actually pictures.
How well suited the language is here. In glowing colours the Holy Spirit shows us this striking sign, shining with freshness against the dark background of the enemy's devastation of the land… "And the surviving remnant of the house of Judah shall again take root downward and bear fruit upward … the zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this" (Isa. 37:30-32). Here, again, we find resurrection pictured.
One writer reads Hezekiah's crisis as a sample of something still ahead.
Hezekiah, too, covered with sackcloth, may be viewed as a sample of the righteous remnant in the latter day, crying for deliverance from the hand of the mighty oppressor… Then indeed "the surviving remnant of the house of Judah shall again take root downward and bear fruit upward … the zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this."
One writer carries the comfort past Jerusalem, to the church in its weakness.
If it is so with Jerusalem, how much more so with the Assembly, the Bride of Christ — a weak remnant among ruins, lacking the power to bring to birth, and so brought low that the enemy can say, "Do not let your God in whom you trust deceive you." Yet she is precious to Christ, who will make her sit with Him on His throne, and will plant her forever in the courts of God like a tree loaded with blossom and fruit.
- Remnant. God speaks the promise to survivors — a people cut down by Assyria, not a nation at full strength.
- Root. Growth starts downward and unseen; a settled rooting is what comes first.
- Fruit. Only then does anything show above ground, and it is fruit for God.
- Escape. The survivors are not locked inside Jerusalem. They walk out free from Sennacherib — they are not fleeing Zion.
- Zeal. None of it is Judah's achievement. God's own zeal does this — which is why one writer sees resurrection in the sign, and a rescue still to come.
For out of Jerusalem shall go forth a remnant, And out of mount Zion they that escape The zeal of Jehovah [of hosts] shall do this.
The Assyrian army had surrounded Hezekiah's city, and this verse closes God's answer sent through Isaiah: survivors will come out of Jerusalem, and God's own zeal will bring it about. Two questions follow: who are these survivors, and what is this zeal?
God's promise covers two things: escape, and what grows afterwards.
Continuing His prophecy of blessing to Judah, God tells them that their small remnant who have escaped the offence of Assyria would "take root downward and bear fruit upward" (v.30). A stable character of being properly rooted would result in fruit "upward", that is, fruit for God. "For out of Jerusalem shall go forth a remnant, and out of Mount Zion they that escape" (v.31 — JND trans.). The remnant of Judah would not be so shut up in Jerusalem as to be prisoners there. It is not escaping from Mount Zion, but escaping from Sennacherib... How good for Jerusalem to depend on Him!
The siege would lift, and the survivors would live in the open land again, planted rather than penned in.
The remnant of Judah should be established anew by the Lord, and filled with His blessings.
The word for zeal can also be read as jealousy. Kelly notes both renderings, and names who does the work:
The hour of freedom and victory for Israel has come, and it is the LORD who has done it all. But this is not like ordinary war. The noise of human fighting and bloodshed will end... Truly, "the zeal (or jealousy) of the LORD of hosts will perform this."
Another writer applies the same line to a far bigger task:
Bringing the whole earth under God's rule will be a huge task. But as our scripture says, "The zeal of the Lord of Hosts will perform this." We can well rejoice that it will be so.
The reason God gives lies in Himself, not in Judah.
Therefore the Lord declared that the king of Assyria would not come into Jerusalem, nor even shoot an arrow there... Before he was able to get that far, God would intercept his progress, and make him return by the same way he came. For God would defend the city to save it. Why? For His own name's sake and for the sake of David, God's servant (vv.33-34).
God links His own honour to the honour of His people:
Hezekiah carries his God's interests on his heart when the enemy is in question. So the LORD answers him that He will not let the world insult "the virgin daughter of Zion"; she is the bride of the Great King... So God defends the character and honour of His loved ones, guilty but humbled, when they defend His own honour and character.
Writers see a preview here of God's action at the end:
Isaiah 36-39 tell the story of Sennacherib's invasion, its outcome, and the deadly sickness of Hezekiah, which came before it. This teaches the remnant how they should wait on the Lord. In substance, this deliverance is a picture of what will happen with the Assyrian in the last days.
In the same reading, Hezekiah himself stands for a later group:
Hezekiah too, covered with sackcloth, can be seen as a sample of the righteous remnant in the last days. They cry for rescue from the hand of the mighty oppressor.
The same comfort reaches past Jerusalem. A weak and despised people can still be precious to Christ:
If this is true of Jerusalem, how much more of the Church, the Bride of Christ. She is a weak remnant among ruins, without strength to give birth, and brought so low that the enemy can say, "Let not your God, on whom you rely, deceive you." Yet she is precious to Christ. He will make her sit with Him on His throne, and will plant her forever in the courts of God like a tree loaded with blossom and fruit.
- Zeal starts it. The word can also be read as jealousy. God's own zeal is the cause of everything the verse promises.
- Zeal frees them. The remnant goes out of Jerusalem free from Sennacherib. They were never prisoners of Zion — only of the siege.
- Zeal roots them. Rescue is not the end. The survivors take root downward and bear fruit upward — fruit for God.
- Zeal defends His name. God acts for His own name and for His servant David, not for Judah's record. He takes an insult to Zion as an insult to Himself.
- Zeal will do it again. Commentators read this rescue as a picture of a future one. Hezekiah in sackcloth stands for a faithful remnant at the end.
Therefore thus saith Jehovah concerning the king of Assyria He shall not come into this city, Nor shoot an arrow there, Nor come before it with shield, Nor cast a bank against it.
God's answer to Hezekiah's prayer is not a general promise of help. It is a list of four things the king of Assyria will never do — and God said it while the Assyrian army stood outside the walls.
God measured the promise out item by item. Everything the people could see from the wall said the opposite.
The Assyrian would not enter the city, shoot arrows into it, or build a siege ramp against it. Yet the enemy army was surrounding it at that very moment. But God intervened because of His name, and because of David His servant, toward whom He would revoke neither His covenant nor His promises.
The words "this city" carry the weight. God treated Jerusalem differently from the places He let the Assyrian ravage, and not because its people were better.
God looks at Zion as something the Assyrian's foot had never defiled. It was a virgin daughter of Zion, and God never meant that the Assyrian should walk there. He had allowed him to ravage elsewhere, but Zion — however unfaithful Zion might be — Zion was not reserved for the hand of the Assyrian. Zion might even fall in wars, but the Assyrian himself must fall. This was God's decree. Even with His enemies God is just as absolute, and governs just as fully, as He does among His friends. It is not man that governs in any case, but God.
Sennacherib thought the campaign was his own project. He was wrong about who was holding him.
The Assyrian himself did not realise this. He "does not intend it so." He meant to ravage Jerusalem as well as Samaria, doing to them what he had already done to many of the surrounding peoples. As we know from the historical Scriptures, though he distressed and threatened Jerusalem, he did not take it. He was only like an axe or a rod in the hand of the Lord, and could not dictate to the One who wielded him.
God's words ruled out even laying siege — and the army's end came far from the city it had threatened.
Sennacherib's army, remember, was not destroyed at Jerusalem. 2 Kings 19:32-33 plainly shows this. He was not to come into the city. He was not even to lay siege to it... By the way that he came, by that same way he should return. Now that way had clearly been along the low country, the great highway between Syria and Egypt... Then in one night, at a place not named, his army was cut down by a sudden plague, for 185,000 were destroyed by angelic power.
Nothing was left hanging. After the angel struck the camp and the king was later killed by his own sons in his temple, one commentator sums up the whole account in a line:
So every word of Jehovah was accomplished.
Such a promise asked something of the people. It asked for stillness, and that was not God's word in every later crisis.
In Hezekiah's time God told them, "in quietness and in trust shall be your strength." The Assyrian would not even build a siege ramp before Jerusalem. They were to stay perfectly calm and firm; and the army of Assyria was destroyed. But when a certain time of judgment had come, in Jeremiah's time, then the man who went out of the city to the Chaldeans, their enemies, would save himself.
Commentators read the episode as a picture of a later invasion, and they read the picture differently at one point. One traces the same fixed limit forward:
At the time of the end God will again limit the scourging power of the king of the North, the Assyrian, against Jerusalem... Like Sennacherib, he is permitted to bring his armies to the very gates of the Holy City, but it appears that at that time he is not allowed to capture the city.
Another holds that the final invader will get further than Sennacherib did before his end:
This will be the more striking because he will first be allowed to capture Jerusalem... Jerusalem must pay the penalty of its sins. The Assyrian, the king of the north in the book of Daniel, will then withdraw southwards for other ambitions. He will come up again, and by then Jehovah will have owned His people Israel. He will be put down and destroyed for ever.
- Boundary spoken. God answers prayer with a measured decree: no entry, no arrow, no shield, no siege ramp. He sets these limits for His own name's sake and for David His servant.
- Boundary unseen. The army was already surrounding the city when God spoke, so they had to trust the promise against the evidence, not because of it.
- Boundary held. The invader was an axe in God's hand; he could threaten, but he could not dictate to the One wielding him.
- Boundary proved. He never even besieged Jerusalem. Angelic power cut his army down in a single night, far from the city.
- Boundary honoured. God had fixed the limit, so He asked His people for stillness. Commentators note that stillness was wrong in Jeremiah's day, when God's word was judgment, not defence.
By the way that he came, by the same shall he return, And shall not come into this city, saith Jehovah.
The army of Assyria had already taken the walled towns of Judah, and now it surrounded Jerusalem. God's answer to the siege is not a peace deal but a route home for the invader, with a promise that no arrow, no shield and no siege ramp will ever reach the city.
The striking thing about this word is its timing. It was given while the threat it denied was visible from the walls.
The Assyrian should not enter the city, nor shoot arrows into it, nor cast a bank against it; and yet the enemy army was surrounding it at that very moment. But God intervened because of His name, and because of David His servant, toward whom He would revoke neither His covenant nor His promises.
God lists the steps of a siege one by one and denies each one. The invader is stopped before he can even begin.
So the Lord declared that the king of Assyria would not come into Jerusalem, nor even shoot an arrow there. In fact, he would not come against it with a protecting shield nor build a siege mound against it (v.32). Before he was able to get that far, God would intercept his progress, and make him return by the same way he came.
Sennacherib does not choose this retreat. God gives the reason, and it is personal: the king's rage against Him.
He might insult God, in person or through his servants, but the great king of Assyria had to learn that God knew all about him. God was making him only the instrument of His own dealing with the nations. Once that work was done, he had to go back humbled and struck down, for he had gone beyond his orders... "But I know your sitting down, and your going out, and your coming in, and your raging against me. Your raging against me and your arrogance have come up into my ears. So I will put my ring in your nose, and my bridle in your lips, and I will make you go back by the way by which you came."
This verse is exact, and its exactness settles a question about another passage. Some read Psalm 76 as a picture of the night Assyria's army fell.
Could the overthrow of Sennacherib have been the fulfilment of Psalm 76? In a measure it may be viewed as foreshadowing it. In measure only we can say, for Sennacherib's army, let us remember, was not destroyed at Jerusalem. 2 Kings 19:32-33 plainly shows this. He was not to come into the city. He was not even to lay siege to it. By the way that he came, by that same he was to return, and that way had clearly run along the low country, the great highway between Syria and Egypt... Then in one night, at a place not mentioned, his army was more than decimated by a sudden plague, for 185,000 were cut off by angelic action... His soldiers fell we know not where, while Asaph, who wrote the psalm, foretells a victory shown at Jerusalem, for there God broke the arrows of the bow, the shield, the sword, and the battle.
Commentators differ over how far this rescue reaches. Some stop at Sennacherib. Others say the prophecy of a besieged and rescued Jerusalem still waits for its full answer.
Some apply the siege Isaiah describes to Sennacherib, who was only a foreshadowing of the enemy to come. They cannot get past Isaiah's own prediction — which came true — that Sennacherib would not come into the city of Jerusalem, nor shoot an arrow there, nor come before it with a shield, nor cast a bank against it... In fact this siege is the one at the close of this age. Then the great alliance of the north-eastern nations will be broken, after an earlier success against the Jews.
A promise this exact calls for a matching response. In Hezekiah's day that meant standing still. Later, in Jeremiah's day, safety lay in walking out to the enemy.
The path of faith does not always look the same. In Hezekiah's time the people were told, "In quietness and in confidence shall be your strength," and the Assyrian should not even cast a bank before Jerusalem. They were to stay perfectly calm and firm; and Assyria's army was destroyed. But the time for judgment came in Jeremiah's day. Then the man who went out of the city to the Chaldeans, their enemies, would save himself.
- Word. God announces the outcome while the army still stands at the gate: no arrow, no shield, no siege ramp.
- Leash. The invader is God's instrument. He went beyond his orders, so God turns him back by the road he came.
- Precision. The words are exact. Sennacherib never laid siege to the city, and his army fell somewhere else.
- Reach. Commentators see this rescue as a picture of a fuller deliverance of Jerusalem still ahead.
- Response. A promise this exact called for quietness and confidence. Faith's path changes when God's dealings change.
And I will defend this city, to save it, For mine own sake, and for my servant David's sake.
Sennacherib's army stood around Jerusalem, and the city had no strength to break out. God promised to defend it, and He gave two reasons. Neither reason was anything in Jerusalem or in Hezekiah.
God made this promise while the siege was still in place. His reasons were His own name and His word to David.
The Assyrian would not enter the city, shoot arrows into it, or build a siege mound against it. Yet at that very moment the enemy army was surrounding it. But God stepped in because of His name, and because of David His servant. He would take back neither His covenant nor His promises (vv. 32-34).
God's first reason is His own name. When He acts on that ground, the weakness of the person He rescues is no obstacle.
It is in us God shows what He is. You say you are the most feeble and miserable. Yet it is you God would choose, if He wanted to show the immense riches of His grace. He cannot stop in this goodness. It is not humility to limit His goodness by saying we are too little and unworthy. He forgives for the sake of His own name. He restores and leads for His own name's sake. He begins, continues, and finishes up to heaven itself, and always for the sake of His name.
David had been dead a long time. What survived him was God's promise. That is what the people under siege could lean on, since they had nothing of their own to offer.
They with their fathers have failed, but God had made promises to David. Where they could not speak of themselves, they could tell of the promises. David had died, but the promises held good: his children had failed, but God's words could not.
That commitment to David's house is described elsewhere as a lamp God refused to let go out — a covenant that held back deserved judgment on kings who had earned it.
The Lord remembered the house of David and his covenant, and because of that covenant the deserved judgment was held back.
Hezekiah had taken Sennacherib's letter into the house of the Lord. He did not plead his own record there.
Hezekiah goes up to the house of the Lord a second time. This time it is not a question of humbling himself, as it was the first time. It is a direct attack on the name of the Lord whom Hezekiah honours. God must take account of this letter. The king places God's cause into God's own hands. But he knows that the Lord will save His humbled people, to honour His name. "So now, O Lord our God, save us, please, from his hand, that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that you, O Lord, are God alone."
God kept this promise overnight. Sennacherib's own end followed, far from Jerusalem.
"And that night the angel of the Lord went out and struck down 185,000 in the camp of the Assyrians. And when people arose early in the morning, behold, these were all dead bodies." The result was that the king retreats in dismay. He returns and lives in Nineveh. But as the Lord had sent a blast on him in Palestine, so now he must fall in his own land… So every word of the Lord came true.
One writer reads this rescue as a preview of something larger.
Real as it was, it was no more than a shadow of the great ruler of the eastern nations in a day still to come. In the same way, Judah's deliverance and blessing under the son of David of that day only pointed to a brighter time and a more lasting glory. Then the Lord will lift up the one who was low and bring down the high one.
- Cause — His name. God did not defend Jerusalem because the city deserved it. He acted because of His own name, and He forgives, restores and leads on that same ground still.
- Gift — His promise. The second reason was a promise made to a man long dead. When the living could say nothing for themselves, they could still point to what God had said to David.
- Ground — His covenant. God kept the house of David as a lamp He would not put out, and that covenant held back the judgment they had earned.
- Prayer — His honour. Hezekiah handed God's cause back to God and asked that all the kingdoms would know Him. The answer came on that same ground.
- Result — His word stands. One night ended the siege. The whole rescue is a shadow of a greater deliverance under a greater son of David.
And it came to pass that night, that an angel of Jehovah went forth, and smote in the camp of the Assyrians a hundred and eighty-five thousand. And when they arose early in the morning, behold, they were all dead bodies.
Assyria's army stood outside Jerusalem, and its king had mocked the God of Israel. Hezekiah prayed, and before sunrise the whole threat was gone — a rescue for one city, and a picture of how God deals with proud power.
God's answer did not come at once, and the delay is part of the lesson.
God is wonderfully patient with the cruelty and arrogance of His enemies. That does not mean He is indifferent, as many would like to think. He gives time for repentance. But when it is clear that men will not change, sudden and awesome judgment falls from a righteous God. Hezekiah had trusted God, and though the answer seemed slow in coming, it did come in God's time. In one night the angel of the Lord killed 185,000 men in the camp of Assyria! What a shock to those who remained!
One night ended a boasting king's campaign and started him toward his own judgment.
How foolish the great men of this world can be! They boast in their own achievements and challenge the Almighty God without a thought… One angel from the Lord was enough to destroy the best of Assyria's army. One angel was enough to send Sennacherib back to his own land, to meet the judgment God had reserved for him, just as Isaiah the prophet had said.
Hezekiah's strength that night was not in his soldiers, and Sennacherib had misjudged who he was fighting.
Sennacherib had never counted on meeting such an opponent. He had never thought that his letter would be read by the eye of the living God. He expected to meet flesh and blood, sword and spear, as he had always been used to meeting. But look — a man of faith prays, God hears, and out goes the angel of the Lord, and in a moment mows down 185,000 men… So we see something of Hezekiah's vast resources. He knew the value of being alone with God. He felt more comfort and real power in the secret of God's presence than when surrounded by troops of armed warriors. He knew something of the reality of the words the Apostle later wrote: "When I am weak, then I am strong." And we may say this: if Sennacherib's army had been millions instead of thousands, the angel of the Lord would have thought just as little of sweeping them all off the face of the earth in a moment. When the Lord decides to act for His people, in answer to their prayers, He takes no account of anything or anyone.
The blow fell in the dark, and daybreak revealed it. Morning carries that meaning right through Scripture.
The Old Testament speaks of the morning many times. Look at those verses, and you cannot miss how much they matter for us today. The night of Egypt's slavery ended "when the morning appeared" (Exodus 14:27). The power of the idol Dagon lay completely overthrown in the "morning" (1 Samuel 5:4). The Assyrian army lay completely defeated "in the morning" (2 Kings 19:35). How wonderfully the Lord Jesus speaks in John chapter 16 about the joy His own would have on that resurrection morning! Their sorrow would become joy. So the joy of victory "comes in the morning."
Sennacherib himself was not among the dead. Surviving that camp was not the same as escaping God.
Perhaps Sennacherib realised that Hezekiah's God was greater than he himself was. He left Jerusalem with the rest of his army and returned to Nineveh. But there he did not turn to the true God, as his experience told him he ought to. Instead, while he was worshipping in the temple of Nisroch, his false god, two of his own sons killed him. They escaped to the land of Ararat. Nisroch was no protector of his deluded worshipper. But the living God was behind this judgment on Sennacherib. Though the wheels of God's government grind slowly, their results are absolutely certain.
This night is more than history. It sets a pattern for a judgment still to come.
That night the judgment stroke fell. The whole Assyrian army of 185,000 men was struck down by the angel of the LORD. As prophecy, it stands for the end of the Assyrian. He will enter Israel's land during the great tribulation, and he will perish like Sennacherib's army.
- Provocation. Boasting against the Almighty is not clever. It is foolish, and Sennacherib's challenge is what invited the blow.
- Prayer. Hezekiah prayed and left the case with God. Being alone with God gave him more real power than armed troops around him.
- Power. One angel was enough. Millions would have been no harder, because when God acts for His people He takes no account of numbers.
- Patience. God gives time for repentance, so His answer can seem slow. But the results of His government are certain, as Sennacherib found in his own temple.
- Preview. Daybreak showed Assyria destroyed. That morning points on to the Assyrian's end in the tribulation, and to joy that comes in the morning.
And Sennacherib king of Assyria departed, and went and returned, and abode at Nineveh.
The army that had crushed city after city breaks camp and goes home. No soldier of Judah had drawn a sword. Commentators read this retreat as God keeping His word to the letter. They also ask what the journey home cost the king himself.
God had told Hezekiah that the invader would go back the way he came, and would fall in his own land. One writer sees the retreat as the first half of that word coming true:
The result was that the king retreats in dismay. He returns and lives in Nineveh. But as Jehovah had sent a blast upon him in Palestine, so now he must fall in his own land… So every word Jehovah spoke came true.
The prophecy had pictured God putting a hook in the invader's nose and a bridle in his lips. One writer sets the two kings side by side at the moment the camp broke up:
He would win a glorious victory over the foe, but he would do so without leaving his sweet retreat in the sanctuary. He would make the temple his council chamber and make his military plans on his knees. So he conquered — so he won a silent victory. The king of Judah was on his knees. At the same time God was bringing the king of Assyria back to his own land with a hook in his nose and a bridle in his lips, like a wild beast. This is a striking example of what pride always leads to.
Assyria's earlier conquests were under God's control. Her blasphemy against God Himself ended the campaign:
If she had limited her hostility to the nations she conquered, she might not have fallen so soon. But she added her blasphemy against the God who had raised her up. So God would put His hook in her nose and His bridle in her lips, and turn her back by the way she had come (v.28). God may use one nation to punish another. But when that nation is then puffed up with pride, God knows how to bring it down to a humiliating level.
The reason Jerusalem survived is not found in its walls or in Hezekiah's merit. Two writers point to the same ground given in the prophecy, that God acted for His own name and for the sake of David:
The Assyrian was not to enter the city, shoot arrows into it, or build a siege ramp against it. Yet the enemy army was surrounding it at that very moment. But God stepped in for the sake of His name, and for the sake of David His servant. He would not take back His covenant or His promises to David (vv. 32-34).
Going back to Nineveh was not the same as turning to God. Sennacherib's own experience had shown him what he should do:
Perhaps Sennacherib realised that Hezekiah's God was greater than he was. He left Jerusalem with the rest of his army and returned to Nineveh. But there he did not turn to the true God, as his experience told him he ought to.
Assyria's own inscriptions say nothing about this defeat. One writer is not surprised:
As far as we know, no record of this has turned up among the dug-up remains of Assyrian libraries and monuments. And no wonder! These ancient kings wanted the public to forget their defeats and humiliations, just as men do today.
This rescue also points forward. One writer sees a clue in how much space Scripture gives to Hezekiah's reign:
Scripture tells Hezekiah's life at length for a reason. In his reign, Sennacherib's attack on Jerusalem was a foreshadowing of a still greater deliverance from a future king of Assyria. God so controls the evil and the passions of men that they serve His purpose. He gives a hint of what He will yet do for His own glory.
- Rage — God used Assyria against other nations. Her rage against God Himself ended her run. When a tool God uses grows proud, He knows how to humble it.
- Retreat — The victory was silent. Hezekiah planned on his knees in the temple while the invader went home with a hook in his nose, like a wild beast. God kept every word: the king never entered the city, he went back the road he came, and he later fell in his own land.
- Reason — Jerusalem stood for the sake of God's own name and of His servant David. Its walls did not save it.
- Refusal — He reached Nineveh with all the proof he needed. He still did not turn to the true God, and his own records hid the defeat.
- Rehearsal — The retreat sketches a greater deliverance still to come. God turns the evil of men into a preview of His own glory.
And it came to pass, as he was worshipping in the house of Nisroch his god, that Adrammelech and Sharezer [his sons] smote him with the sword; and they escaped into the land of Ararat. And Esarhaddon his son reigned in his stead.
The verse ends the account of Assyria's invasion in a single sentence. The king who had mocked the idea that any god could rescue Jerusalem dies at the hands of his own sons, bowing before his idol — and God had said in advance that it would happen.
God had already said how this king would die:
This is what the Lord says: Do not be afraid of the words you have heard, with which the servants of the king of Assyria have blasphemed Me. Behold, I will put a spirit in him, so that he shall hear a rumor and return to his own land, and I will make him fall by the sword in his own land. The king of Assyria little realised what God had prepared for him, because in his pride he had dared to insult the Almighty.
This verse is where that word came true. William Kelly ties the two blows together — one abroad, one at home:
The king retreats in dismay — he returns and lives in Nineveh — but as the Lord had sent destruction on him in Palestine, so now he must fall in his own land... So every word of the Lord came true.
The place of his death is part of the message. C. H. Mackintosh points to the one thing this king had never done:
He might naturally have hoped for security at least in the temple of his god. But no. He did not know what it was to cover himself with sackcloth in the presence of Him who dwells between the cherubim. So this was the treatment he received at the shrine of the god he worshipped... Such will be the end of all those who exalt themselves against the Lord and His people.
H. L. Rossier shows the king's own taunt turned back on him:
His sons strike him with the sword as he bows down in the house of Nisroch his god. He had said to Hezekiah: The Lord will not deliver you; and now his god Nisroch was unable to deliver him while he was worshipping before him.
Leslie Grant notes that the king knew better, and reads the murder as God's government rather than accident:
But there he did not turn to the true God, as his experience told him he should. Instead, two of his own sons killed him while he was worshipping in the temple of Nisroch, his idolatrous god. They escaped to the land of Ararat. Nisroch was no protector of his deluded worshipper. But the living God was behind this judgment on Sennacherib. Though the wheels of God's government grind slowly, their results are absolutely certain.
Nisroch was an Assyrian idol with a temple in Nineveh. Older translations send the murderers to Armenia rather than Ararat, and a Bible dictionary explains why:
This name appears in the Authorised Version in 2 Kings 19:37 and Isaiah 37:38 as the place to which two sons of Sennacherib fled after killing their father; but in both passages the Hebrew word is Ararat... Armenia lies west of the Caspian Sea.
The murder came later, back in the capital, and it left a trace outside the Bible as well:
Sennacherib lived after that in Nineveh. There his own sons murdered him. An Assyrian cylinder in the British Museum contains a record of this deed.
Kelly reads this real fall as a picture of a later one:
The total fall of the haughty Assyrian's kingdom followed a few years later. Those who walk in pride God is able to humble... Real as it was, however, it was no more than a shadow of the great chief of the eastern nations in the latter day.
- Word — God had said this king would hear a rumor, go home, and fall by the sword in his own land. The verse is that word coming true.
- Worship — He died bowing to Nisroch, in the one place he thought was safe. He had never bowed in sackcloth before the God who dwells between the cherubim.
- Weakness — His taunt was that the Lord could not deliver Hezekiah; his own god could not deliver him.
- Wheels — God gave him time, and he still did not turn. The wheels of God's government grind slowly, but the result is certain.
- Warning — Named men, a named shrine, a museum record: a real death. It also casts a shadow of the proud ruler God will yet humble.
In those days Hezekiah was sick unto death. And the prophet Isaiah the son of Amoz came to him and said to him, Thus saith Jehovah Set thy house in order; for thou shalt die, and not live.
Hezekiah had restored the worship of the true God in Judah. Then, with the Assyrian army still in his land, Isaiah brought him a death sentence from the LORD. Why would God strike down His servant at the height of his usefulness?
The chapter opens with "In those days" instead of a date. That vagueness matters: the illness belongs earlier than its place on the page suggests.
Hezekiah reigns twenty-nine years. In the fourteenth year of his reign, Sennacherib comes up against him. 2 Kings 20 tells us that after his prayer, when he was sick to death, the Lord added fifteen years to his days. So his illness came at the start of the Assyrian invasion, before its defeat. It is not set down here in the order it happened… By this we can measure the depth of the trial this man of God had to pass through. On one side, the enemy had overrun his whole country except Jerusalem. On the other, a fatal illness — and this at the very time when he had restored the worship of the true God to his people, wiped out idolatry, and freed Judah from Assyrian bondage!
Every crisis before this had been national. Now it reaches his own body, and one writer points to what his successes could have done to his heart.
God lets him feel, as it were, the withering breath of death, the king of terrors, just as before he had felt the arrogant threats of the king of Assyria. God brings him to feel that he must take refuge in Him, not only for his kingdom but for himself… He had a long record of devoted service to God. A glorious reformation had come through him. And the Lord of hosts had given him a splendid deliverance over a most formidable foe. All these things were well fitted to work on the pride of his heart… He had been much taken up with the Lord's house. Now the Lord would deal with him about his own house. It was now to be a personal question. "Your house."
The message did more than end his life. It seemed to cancel his whole record with God.
He must die. What misery! He who could say, "Ah, LORD, remember, I beg You, how I have walked before You in truth and with a perfect heart, and have done what is good in Your sight" — this man must die! For a godly Jew, to walk before God in the land of the living was a clear sign of His favour. Was that favour now withdrawn from the king? God would take no account of fourteen years of devotion to Himself, to His cause, and to His house!
Ordered to settle his affairs, Hezekiah turned first to God — and one writer finds perfect harmony in that.
He cannot go up to the house of the Lord, but he can go up to the Lord Himself, and so he does… The Lord only meant to give His dear servant a right sense of how dependent he really was. He would show him this: the same hand that had just rescued his kingdom from the jaws of the enemy must now rescue him from the jaws of death. Until both he and his kingdom could stand in the power of resurrection, there could be no permanence for either… What divine harmony there is between the words "Set your house in order" and "Hezekiah turned his face to the wall"!
Hezekiah wept at the sentence. One writer explains what has changed about death since then.
Up to this time death was not conquered. Even for a believer death still had its terrors. Now death is stripped of its terrors. For a Christian it is no longer the king of terrors. The reason is simple: death is now made the servant of the Christian, made to bring the departing Christian into the presence of the Lord. This is not loss, but gain. Who would weep bitterly over a great gain?
Yet the Christian still faces death. Another writer says the difference lies elsewhere.
The Christian too must pass through this ordeal. He passes through it victoriously. That is not because death is anything less to him than it was to Hezekiah. It is because he has received through grace life in the risen Son of God. He does not suffer less, but he enjoys infinitely more than Hezekiah.
Hezekiah's story points past him to Christ, but the likeness has a limit.
All this speaks to us of what happened to the Messiah, of whom Hezekiah is only a faint picture. He too had to be cut off in the middle of His days, and cast down after being lifted up. He too, the faithful Witness who had done only the will of God, had to suffer death… But Christ — unlike Hezekiah — suffered these things because He was bearing the iniquity of a great people. He had to suffer God's righteous condemnation in our place. A man like Hezekiah could in no way redeem his brother or give God a ransom for him.
- Timing. The illness struck while the Assyrian still held the country. The double blow fell at Hezekiah's best moment.
- Personal. After years of public success, God moved the test from the kingdom to the man: "your house," not the nation's.
- Prayer. The order to settle his affairs drove him to the wall, and to the hand that had already saved his city.
- Grace. He wept because death was not yet conquered. The Christian meets the same wrench holding life in the risen Son of God, so death becomes a servant and a gain.
- Urgency. The message still lands: "How soon the divine order may go out, 'Set your house in order, for you shall die; you shall not recover.' How sad, then, to put off the solemn matter of the soul's salvation!" — H. H. Snell
And he turned his face to the wall, and prayed to Jehovah saying,
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Ah! Jehovah, remember, I beseech thee, how I have walked before thee in truth and with a perfect heart, and have done what is good in thy sight. And Hezekiah wept much.
The prophet Isaiah has just told Hezekiah to put his house in order, because he will not recover. He does not argue; he turns his face to the wall, asks God to remember how he has lived, and weeps (older versions read "in truth and with a perfect heart" for the ESV's "in faithfulness and with a whole heart" — the wording the writers below use).
The sickness comes after Hezekiah's best years of service. One writer shows how easily those years could have fed his pride, and how the message now turned personal.
Hezekiah had been through much that the enemy could easily use to puff him up. He had served God faithfully for a long time. A great reformation had come through him. He had influence over the priests and Levites and the men of Judah and Israel. Last of all, the Lord of hosts had given him a splendid rescue from a most formidable foe. All these things were very likely to work on the pride of his heart... It was now to be a personal question. "Your house."
The plea can sound strange today. One writer explains why living on in the land mattered so much to a godly Jew, and why the death sentence looked like lost favour.
He who could say, "Ah! Jehovah, remember, I beg you, how I have walked before you in truth and with a perfect heart, and have done what is good in your sight" — this man must die! For a godly Jew, to walk before God in the land of the living was a clear sign of His favour. Was this favour then withdrawn from the king? God would take no account of fourteen years of devotion to Himself, to His cause, and to His house!
One writer sets this prayer beside an earlier scene in the temple.
He is calling on God to witness to his faithfulness, to the perfectness of his heart, to the goodness of his ways. He calls Him to witness his zeal against idolatry, and his diligence in restoring the feasts, the worship and the order of Israel. In the temple he had spread out the letter with its blasphemies. Now he spreads his graces before the Lord, and appeals to Him on the strength of them.
Commentators differ. Some read the appeal as proper ground for a believer living before the cross.
Before the coming of Christ people under law could be righteous before God... Such people could plead their integrity. They could ask God to judge them in line with it. They could look to Him to hear their prayer because of their walk before God "in truth, and with a perfect heart." Since the Lord's death, and the full unfolding of Christian truth, no real soul could take that ground.
Others hear self-righteousness in it, surfacing as Hezekiah discovers what is in himself.
Old me, old I, must die, must perish, must be turned to the wall. Like Job long before, this brings out the leaven of self-righteousness... it is hard work to learn the death lesson of the flesh fully. The rage of the enemy outside is a mere trifle compared with the full discovery of the death within.
Why does a man of such faith weep? One writer answers from what death was then, and what it is now.
Up to this time no one could say death was conquered, for indeed it was not. Even to a believer death was not without its terrors. Now death has lost its terrors. It is no longer the king of terrors to a Christian, and the reason is simple: death now has to serve the Christian, and to usher the departing Christian into the presence of the Lord. This is not loss, but gain. Who would weep bitterly at a great gain?
God's reply shows what He makes of the plea.
Will the Lord admit the plea? He is not unrighteous to forget; He does not deny the truth of what Hezekiah says. He takes it at its worth, and tells him He will yet add fifteen years to his life.
The same writer draws out what such discipline is for.
However humbling the needed process God puts His saints through, the grace that does it is pure. We gain the profit when the discipline has exercised us, and we turn from self and from eyeing our own graces to find our help in God.
- Sentence. After his best years, God made it personal — not the kingdom now, but "your house."
- Plea. He asked God to remember his walk in truth and a perfect heart. Once he had spread an enemy's letter before the Lord; now he spread his own graces.
- Difference. Commentators differ. Some say a believer before the cross could plead his integrity. Others hear self-righteousness surfacing instead.
- Tears. He wept because death was not yet conquered. For the Christian, death now serves: it ushers him into the Lord's presence.
- Answer. God did not deny what Hezekiah said. He took it at its worth and added fifteen years. The profit comes when we stop eyeing our graces and find our help in God.
And it came to pass before Isaiah had gone out into the middle city that the word of Jehovah came to him saying,
Isaiah has just told King Hezekiah he will die. God stops the prophet before he is out of the palace — and the verse turns on that speed, and on why the sickness came at all.
Isaiah was still in the middle court when the answer caught him. Commentators point to that detail. Almost no time passed between Hezekiah's cry and God's reply.
It was not long; it was immediate. The prophet came that same minute — or at any rate the word of the Lord came to the prophet. "I have heard your prayer; I have seen your tears" — for God did not despise them.
Another writer looks at what lay behind the speed.
God's answer does not wait long… Hezekiah's soul has hardly been searched out when the word of the Lord comes to Isaiah. One senses that God had already prepared for the king everything He here grants him in his affliction.
The reply Isaiah carries back names two things: a prayer and tears.
He knows the pains of the human heart, though He is on high. This was true long ago. When Hezekiah was sick to the point of death, the Lord's message to him was, "I have heard your prayer, I have seen your tears, and your shuddering at the thought of the grave." The king's sorrow had brought the Lord and His anointed together. God spared Hezekiah's life and turned his sadness into songs.
(The last phrase follows an older translation; the ESV reads, "I have heard your prayer; I have seen your tears.")
Isaiah does not go back with a bare reprieve. One writer counts out what the new message holds.
Hezekiah's prayer was heard and answered at once. It is one of the most striking answers to prayer. Isaiah had not gone far — he had just reached the middle of the court — when God told him to turn back and bring Hezekiah the answer. This new message to the weeping king holds seven things. "I have heard your prayer"; "I have seen your tears"; "I will heal you"; "you shall go up to the house of the LORD"; "I will add fifteen years to your life"; "I will deliver you"; "I will defend this city."… Hezekiah's experience is a great encouragement for God's people to pray.
Notice whose name carries the promise. When God defends the city, the reason lies outside the sick man altogether.
The Lord would defend the city, not even for Hezekiah's sake, but for His own sake and for the sake of David His servant.
Hezekiah had pleaded his own record before God. One writer lists what he put forward.
He is calling on God to witness to his faithfulness, to the perfectness of his heart, and to the goodness of his ways. He calls Him to witness his zeal against idolatry, and his diligence in restoring the feasts, the worship, and the order of Israel. In the temple he had spread out the letter with its blasphemies; now he spreads his graces before the Lord, and appeals to Him on the strength of them.
God does not rest His answer on that record. He sends back healing and fifteen added years anyway.
One writer sees a lesson in the sickness that the healing did not cancel. He ties the king's rescue to the city's.
Here we learn in the clearest way that both Judah and Judah's king must pass through death and resurrection. … Yet the Lord did not deliver His servant in a way that interfered, even slightly, with the lesson He wanted to teach him. … The experience Hezekiah poured out afterwards could never have been gained in the middle of the congregation. Not on the battlefield. Nowhere but exactly where God put him — on the sick bed. None can teach like God.
- Heard. God answered before Isaiah crossed the courtyard. The reply was ready before the cry ended.
- Seen. God took in the weeping as well as the words. He did not despise the tears, and the sorrow itself brought the king and his God together.
- Turned back. The messenger who brought the death sentence brings the reprieve — seven promises: healing, worship restored, added years, rescue, and a defended city.
- Granted. Hezekiah pleaded his own good record. God did not deny it, but He staked the city's safety on His own name and on David.
- Taught. The reprieve did not cancel the lesson. God kept His servant on the sick bed to teach him what no battlefield could. No one teaches like God.
Return, and tell Hezekiah the captain of my people, Thus saith Jehovah, the God of David thy father I have heard thy prayer, I have seen thy tears; behold, I will heal thee on the third day thou shalt go up to the house of Jehovah;
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
and I will add to thy days fifteen years; and I will deliver thee and this city out of the hand of the king of Assyria, and I will defend this city for mine own sake, and for my servant David's sake.
Hezekiah is dying, and he prays. Before the prophet can leave the palace, God sends him back with a promise: more years for a life already under sentence, and safety for a city under threat. Two questions follow. Why did God reverse the sentence He had just announced? And why did He spare the city?
Writers note how little time passed between the sentence of death and its reversal.
Before Isaiah had gone out into the middle court, the word of the Lord came to him: "Turn back, and say to Hezekiah the leader of My people, Thus says the Lord, the God of David your father, I have heard your prayer." Again it was not long; it was immediate. In the earlier case, the destroying angel came that same night. Now, I may say, the prophet came that same minute — or at any rate the word of the Lord came to the prophet. "I have heard your prayer; I have seen your tears" — for God did not despise them.
The verse joins a personal cure to a national rescue. One writer sees in that pairing how complete the Lord's victory is, and what the heart still has to learn.
When the Lord promised Hezekiah recovery from his sickness, He also promised him deliverance from the Assyrian. The victory of the Lord is complete. It is a victory over oneself, and over every other oppressor. But the heart has to learn something. Having passed through death, it can endure better when death and pressure lie ahead than when it meets recognition and flattery.
God gives His reason for defending Jerusalem. It has nothing to do with the king.
The Lord would defend the city, not even for Hezekiah's sake, but for His own sake and for the sake of David His servant.
David's name is not there by accident. One writer links it to what Hezekiah's death would have put at risk.
The message of approaching death startled the king because at that time he had no son. If he had died, what then would have become of the Messianic hope through the house of David? It is beautiful to hear the Lord say through Isaiah, "Thus says the Lord, the God of David your father."
The number is also a date-marker. It places the sickness near the Assyrian invasion. One writer uses it to warn against correcting Scripture by outside records.
"In those days Hezekiah became sick and was at the point of death." "Those days" must refer to the time of the Assyrian invasion, or just after Sennacherib came up. That was the fourteenth year of Hezekiah's reign. The prophet had said God would add fifteen years to his life. As he reigned twenty-nine years, there is no difficulty at all in fixing the exact time of his sickness. Men make difficulties for themselves where there are none. They listen to uncertain records carved on monuments instead of holding to the simple and sure statements of Holy Scripture.
Commentators read the added days as a figure of something far wider.
Here again we find, in a figure, the principle that Israel's deliverance is tied to. The deliverance of all men is tied to it as well. Elisha pointed to this principle, and Jesus accomplished it. Hezekiah is raised as from the dead. He had been sick to the point of death. But the Lord heard his prayer. When Hezekiah humbled himself, the Lord revoked the sentence He had pronounced through Isaiah.
Commentators do not treat the fifteen years as a simple happy ending. What followed is a warning.
Would we want time reversed in our lives? If God gave us time to live some years over again, would we do better than before? Hezekiah found through experience that things don't work that way. For in his added 15 years he spoiled the devotedness of his testimony for God, as we see soon after.
One writer follows those added years into the next generation.
Manasseh was twelve years old when he succeeded his father Hezekiah. So he was born during the fifteen extra years God granted Hezekiah in answer to his prayers and tears. No doubt Manasseh received careful teaching in the ways of God. Hezekiah himself said, "the father makes known to the children Your faithfulness." Let every Christian father note this, and follow Hezekiah's good example. Despite his early advantages, Manasseh became the wickedest king Judah had ever known.
- Heard — God turned Isaiah back before he crossed the middle court. He did not despise the tears.
- Doubled — one answer carried two gifts: healing for the man and deliverance for the city.
- Grounded — God defends the city for His own sake and for David's, not for the king's record. The promised line through David's house was at stake.
- Raised — a man under sentence of death gets his life back. Commentators read this as resurrection in figure.
- Spent — Hezekiah still had to live the gift out. The years that followed show how easily a man wastes extra time.
And Isaiah said, Take a cake of figs. And they took and laid it on the boil, and he recovered.
Hezekiah has been told he will die. Then God promises to heal him — and the prophet calls for a cake of figs. Why send a remedy when the healing is already promised?
One dictionary traces the word behind "boil" to two of the worst afflictions in Scripture.
The Hebrew word shechin means a common swelling on the flesh, with inflammation. The boils were surely deadly when God sent them as a plague in Egypt (Ex. 9:9-11), and they were severe in Job's case when Satan struck him (Job 2:7). Hezekiah's boil seems to have been a severe kind, though God blessed a lump of figs to bring about his recovery.
God had already promised to heal the king. He still chose to work through something He had made.
The Lord, however, did not heal Hezekiah apart from a natural remedy. Isaiah told them to place a lump of figs on Hezekiah's boil, and he recovered (v.7). God had made the figs and He knew they would be effective in this case. Suppose someone demanded that God heal him, yet refused a natural remedy. That would not be faith healing. Faith gives God credit for supplying whatever means of healing He sees fit.
Figs on a sore are ordinary. What followed was not.
A plaster of figs does not usually cure a badly infected boil, but it did in this case, as an act of God.
Rossier sees more here than a healed sore.
Hezekiah is brought back to life by a sort of resurrection. To all appearances the means had no value, but applied at the prophet's word it proves to be the power of God for salvation.
The promise came with an order to obey.
God also commanded Isaiah to use means — a lump of figs, laid on the boil. If they had ignored this simple remedy, if there had been disobedience, the recovery would not have taken place.
Does trusting God rule out the use of medicine? One writer answers with this verse and a second passage about remedies.
Using a passage of Scripture as a substitute for the medicines God has provided in nature is not only unwarranted. It goes against the principle of Scripture and the apostles: use remedies for ailments (see both 2 Kings 20:7 and 1 Tim. 5:23). It is theological quackery.
Another writer sets the figs beside miracles that needed no remedy at all.
In His New Testament miracles of healing He showed once for all His power as the First Cause. He used no material remedies as go-betweens, but did what He purposed with a word or a touch. He was pleased to use a plaster of figs to make Hezekiah well, but the king knew it was Jehovah who had healed him. He said, "He has both spoken to me, and He Himself has done it" (Isa. 38:15). The Gospels show us Jesus at work in person, and that encourages us. We may use our medicines, sure that He is just as active today, both in sympathy and in power to heal.
Rossier reads the whole sequence — death sentence, news of healing, the means, the sign — as a pattern.
Death is decreed, and there is no appeal. This message brings deep distress to the soul that receives it. At once Isaiah announces the happy news of the king's healing. He then points to the means of healing and applies it to the deadly boil. Last of all, he makes known the sign. By reversing the order of nature, the Lord binds Himself to do what He has promised... We have here a complete example of what the gospel brings to the soul of every sinner.
Some readers think a note about figs is too small for the Bible to record. Kelly answers them.
This added detail may seem unimportant or fake to the natural mind. It was not so to the Spirit who inspired it. God shows His interest in His own, whatever their weakness. He explains the means used, and why the sign was given. To unbelief such a detail has no value. Literary criticism knows as little of God's love, or of the soul's need, as human philosophy does.
- Sentence — the boil was of a severe kind, and the word over Hezekiah was death, not illness he might shake off.
- Word — God promised healing first; the figs came after the promise, never in place of it.
- Means — He heals through what He Himself made. A remedy does not insult faith. Faith credits God for supplying it.
- Obedience — the healing came through doing what the prophet said. Skip the remedy, and there is no recovery.
- Glory — the plaster stayed a plaster. Hezekiah said God had spoken and God had done it. Believers may use medicine the same way.
And Hezekiah said to Isaiah, What [shall be] the sign that Jehovah will heal me, and that I shall go up into the house of Jehovah the third day?
God has just told Hezekiah he will live. He has heard the king's prayer and promised to heal him, and on the third day Hezekiah will walk into the temple again. Yet the king still asks for a sign. Readers have argued over it ever since: some hear weak faith, others hear boldness.
Some writers read the question as a lapse. God had already spoken, and Hezekiah wanted more than the promise.
Was the word of the Lord not enough for Hezekiah to rely upon? No! He asked Isaiah to give him a sign to confirm God's promise that he would go up to the house of the Lord the third day (v. 8).
Others defend it. They set Hezekiah beside his own father, Ahaz. This same prophet told Ahaz to ask for a sign, and Ahaz refused:
Hezekiah quite properly asks for a sign to assure himself of his recovery. His hypocritical father, in mock modesty, refused to ask for a sign. He used a pious phrase to refuse: "I will not tempt the Lord." But no one asked him to "tempt God." God Himself had told him to ask for a sign. Unbelief and self-will lay behind his flat refusal, hidden under this pious phrase.
Commentators differ here.
Isaiah offers a choice, and the choice itself tests the king.
And so God gave him a certain sign — a sign that Hezekiah takes in remarkable contrast with his father. When God bids us ask, it is a serious thing to refuse. We ought to be bold in faith, and Hezekiah was. He was offered a double sign: the dial could go forward or go backward. He chooses the harder of the two.
Hezekiah picks the movement that waiting could never produce.
Isaiah gave Hezekiah a choice: would the shadow go forward ten degrees or backward ten degrees? Either way this would be an amazing miracle. But Hezekiah thought it an easy thing for the shadow to go forward, since it would do so in time anyway — though not 10 degrees at once. So Hezekiah asked that the shadow go backwards.
The dial had only ever run one direction. Turning the shadow back says something about God far larger than one man's recovery.
Ahaz had set up this dial. Since his reign the shadow had gone forward. Time was running on fast and must end in night, in the complete disappearance of the monarchy under God's judgment. The Lord could have hurried this end, for the measure was full. But it pleased Him to answer the desire of the godly king and the prophet's request by delaying the hour instead of hurrying it… This miracle has a deeper meaning. It means that God could and would overturn the whole order of nature, and the laws that put the sinner under death, so that He might save those He loves… Asking for this showed complete confidence in God, who alone can do the impossible.
People have long argued over how it happened. Writers refuse to make the method the question.
It is not for us to speculate whether this sign was by refraction or otherwise. GOD gave it. That is enough for faith.
Notice what Hezekiah wants confirmed. Not the extra years — the walk up to God's house.
The message to the weeping king names the third day, on which he should go up to the house of the LORD. For Israel there is also a third day in store. Then God will raise them up as a nation, and they will worship the LORD (Hosea 6:2)… Hezekiah's experience is a great encouragement for God's people to pray.
The sign did not stay inside Judah. Watchers of the sky in Babylon noticed it.
We know from elsewhere that it was not just the sickness that struck the Babylonians. It was this very return of the shadow ten degrees on the dial. They were great watchers of the heavens — watchers of a sign like this — and they were quite right. They traced it to king Hezekiah.
What he did with that attention is the sad sequel.
Here was surely an opportunity of testimony to Jehovah. How great His power and His goodness on behalf of His afflicted servant! But the king of Babylon saw only the man in it, and Hezekiah was glad to show it off. Alas! how soon we respond to flattery. When the shadow of death lay on him, he cast himself on God.
- Asked — Hezekiah asks for a sign after God has already promised to heal him. Writers differ: weak faith, or the boldness his father Ahaz refused to show?
- Chosen — Offered two signs, he picks the harder one. A shadow moves forward on its own, so only backward proves anything.
- Given — God reverses the shadow. He never explains how. That He did it is enough for faith.
- Meant — The reversal pictures God overturning the order that holds the sinner under death, to save those He loves.
- Aimed — The sign he asked to have confirmed was worship: going up to the house of the LORD on the third day. Yet the same wonder drew Babylon's admiration, and there the healed king fell.
And Isaiah said, This [shall be] the sign to thee from Jehovah, that Jehovah will do the thing that he hath spoken shall the shadow go forward ten degrees, or go back ten degrees?
God had promised the dying Hezekiah healing and fifteen more years, yet the king still asked for proof. Isaiah answered with a choice about a shadow, and that choice raises two questions: why ask for a sign at all, and why was one direction harder than the other?
Either direction would have taken an act of God. But the two did not look the same to the king. (Where the ESV reads "ten steps," older translations read "ten degrees," as the writers below do.)
Isaiah gave Hezekiah a choice: would the shadow go forward ten degrees or backward ten degrees? Either way this would be an amazing miracle. But Hezekiah thought it an easy thing for the shadow to go forward, since it would do that in time anyway — though not 10 degrees at once. So Hezekiah asked that the shadow go backwards.
One writer sees the king's boldness in which sign he picked:
We ought to be bold in faith, and Hezekiah was. There was a double sign: the dial could go forward, or it could go backward. He chooses the harder of the two.
Commentators differ on the asking itself. Some see it as right, and lay the fault on his father's refusal instead:
Hezekiah rightly asks for a sign to assure himself that he will recover. His hypocritical father, in mock modesty, refused to ask for a sign. In refusing, he used a religious phrase: "I will not tempt the Lord." But no one asked him to "tempt God." God Himself had told him to ask for a sign. Unbelief and self-will lay behind his flat refusal, though a pious phrase covered them.
Others see the same asking as a failure, since God had already given His word:
Was the word of the Lord not enough for Hezekiah to rely upon? No! He asked Isaiah for a sign to confirm God's promise that he would go up to the house of the Lord on the third day… Yet the Lord would still give Hezekiah the sign he wanted.
How God did it is open to question. One writer lists the options, then says they change nothing:
It was a miracle, whatever way we take it. God could have reversed the turning of the earth, if He had seen fit to do so. Even a clockmaker is a poor one if he cannot turn back the hands of his own work. Or He could have brought it about by the ordinary law of refraction, the bending of light… Either way it was a miracle, whatever the rationalist or doubting astronomer may say against it.
The shape of the miracle was not random; it pictured exactly what God was doing in the sick man's body.
For the shadow on the sundial to go ten degrees backward was completely against nature. But it was a fitting sign, because God was about to reverse Hezekiah's sickness. Against the nature of his disease, it would end in life and not death. A paste of figs does not normally cure a badly infected boil, but it did here, as an act of God.
One writer finds a deeper meaning in the delay:
Ahaz had set up this dial. Since his reign the shadow had gone forward. Time was passing quickly and had to end in night… The Lord could have hurried that end, for the measure was full. But it pleased Him to answer the godly king's desire and the prophet's asking by delaying the hour instead of hurrying it… But this miracle has a deeper meaning. It means that God could and would overturn the whole order of nature, with the laws that put the sinner under death, so that He might bring about the salvation of those He loves.
News of the sign travelled, and one writer notes who took it in:
We know from elsewhere that it was not just the sickness. It was this very return of the shadow ten degrees on the dial that struck the Babylonians. They were great watchers of the heavens — watchers of such a sign as this — and they were quite right.
- Offered: God gave more than a promise — He let Hezekiah pick the sign, forward or back.
- Chosen: Hezekiah passed over the easy option and asked for the one nature could never supply.
- Granted: However it happened, the power at work was God's.
- Matched: The shadow went backward, and so did the disease — death turned to life.
- Meant: The reversal pictures something larger: God overturning the order of nature that holds sinners under death, so He can save those He loves.
And Hezekiah said, It is a light thing for the shadow to go down ten degrees no, but let the shadow return backward ten degrees.
Hezekiah is sick, and Isaiah offers him a sign with a choice: the shadow can move forward ten steps or go back ten steps. Why would he turn down the easy option, and what did that moving shadow on a sundial mean?
(The quotes below say "degrees" where the ESV says "steps." Both mean the same marks on the dial.)
The choice Isaiah gave was real: forward or backward. Hezekiah judged one of the two to be no great test.
Isaiah gave Hezekiah a choice: would the shadow go forward ten degrees or backward ten degrees? Either way this would be an amazing miracle. But Hezekiah thought it an easy thing for the shadow to go forward, since it would do so in time anyway — just not 10 degrees at once. So Hezekiah asked that the shadow go backwards.
The dial belonged to Hezekiah's father, Ahaz. The two kings handled an offer from God very differently.
When this same prophet asked Ahaz to look for a sign in heaven or on earth, Ahaz pretended that he could not do such a thing — that it was not for him to ask a sign. But his heart would have been far more truly subject to God if he had asked. When God tells us to ask, it is a serious thing to refuse. We ought to be bold in faith, and Hezekiah was. There was a double sign, either the dial going forward or going backward, and he chooses the more difficult of the two. Moving the dial forward would in a certain measure be only natural, even though it might be an extraordinary act of God. Making the dial go back was a far more striking proof that Jehovah had stepped in.
Commentators differ on how far it is worth guessing. One reference work describes the dial, suggests a possible cause, then says the cause is not the point.
Some device, not clearly described, which worked out the divisions of the day from the shadow of a pillar, cast by the sun onto a series of steps or degrees... The same thing may not have happened anywhere else, since its purpose was only to strengthen the faith of Hezekiah. There is also no need to suppose that the earth reversed its motion. Could an unusual state of the atmosphere have bent the light passing through it? However it was brought about, it was by the power of God.
Another writer declines the question and points to what the sign was for.
This sign shows us the sovereign supernatural power of God. He will use that power to deliver and bless Israel, inwardly as well as outwardly. It is not for us to speculate whether this sign was by refraction or otherwise. It was given by GOD. That is enough for faith.
The dial of Ahaz was more than a piece of furniture. The shadow crossing it had been counting down a kingdom.
Ahaz had set up this dial. Since his reign the shadow had gone forward. Time was passing quickly. It had to end in night, in the complete disappearance of the monarchy under God's judgment. The Lord could have hurried that end, for the measure was full. But it pleased Him to answer the desire of the godly king and the prophet's request. He delayed the hour instead of hurrying it, and so gave the king's rule more time. But this miracle has a deeper meaning. It means that God could and would overturn the whole order of nature and its laws, which made the sinner subject to death. He would do this to save those He loves... His request showed complete confidence in God, who alone can do the impossible with the impossible.
A sign given to strengthen one man's faith did not stay private. Men who studied the sky in a distant empire noticed it.
We know from elsewhere what struck the Babylonians. It was not just the sickness, but this very return of the shadow ten degrees on the dial. They were great watchers of the heavens — watchers of just such a sign as this — and they were quite right. They traced it to king Hezekiah, to a fairly small kingdom and king, and this drew out their interest.
- Asked — His father Ahaz turned a sign down. Hezekiah asked, and asked boldly. When God tells us to ask, refusing is the serious thing.
- Harder — The forward move looked easy to him, since time moves that way anyway. He chose the reversal, which only God could produce.
- Given — Commentators differ on how it happened. One suggests the air bent the light; another refuses to guess. Both say the power was God's, and that this is enough for faith.
- Reversed — On Ahaz's own dial the shadow had been running forward toward judgment and night. God delayed that hour instead of hurrying it. It is a picture of God overturning the order of death itself to save those He loves.
- Reported — The wonder reached Babylon. Its sky-watchers traced it back to a small king in a small kingdom, and it drew out their interest.
And Isaiah the prophet cried to Jehovah, and he brought the shadow back on the degrees by which it had gone down on the dial of Ahaz, ten degrees backward.
Hezekiah was healed and given fifteen more years. He asked for a sign, and the sign he chose was time running backwards on his father's dial. Most readers ask how God did it. The writers here press a better question: why He did it, and what the reversed shadow was meant to teach.
Isaiah offered a choice, and Hezekiah picked the harder half of it. One writer compares his choice with his father's.
God gave him a certain sign — and Hezekiah takes it in remarkable contrast with his father. The same prophet once asked Ahaz to look for a sign in heaven or on earth. Ahaz pretended that he could not do such a thing — that it was not for him to ask for a sign. But his heart would have been far more truly subject to God if he had asked. When God tells us to ask, it is a serious thing to refuse. We ought to be bold in faith, and Hezekiah was. There was a double sign — the dial could go forward or backward — and he chooses the harder of the two.
Another writer looks past the sickroom to what the sign displays.
Now, on the time dial of that very king Ahaz, the shadow returns "ten degrees" — the same degrees the sun had already gone down. This sign shows us the sovereign supernatural power of God. He will use that power for Israel's deliverance and blessing, inward as well as outward.
Older translations say "degrees" where the ESV says "steps." What these marks belonged to is uncertain, and one writer quotes a description that reads them as real steps.
The term "steps" seems to point to a tall stone pillar surrounded by steps, and the shadow on it marked the hours. In the morning the shadow fell westwards, first on the lowest step, then climbed to the flat top. After midday it came back down the steps eastwards.
One writer runs through the possible mechanics, then refuses to let them settle the question.
The shadow turned back on the dial of Ahaz ten degrees, in answer to the prophet's prayer. God could have reversed the turning of the earth, had He seen fit to do so. Any clockmaker who cannot turn back the hands of his own work is a poor one. Or He could have caused it by the ordinary law of refraction… In any case it was a miracle, whatever the rationalist or sceptical astronomer may say to the contrary.
One writer reads the moving shadow as a picture, and finds the gospel in its reversal.
Ahaz had set up this dial. Since his reign the shadow had gone forward. Time was passing quickly, and it had to end in night, with the monarchy vanishing completely under God's judgment… But this miracle has a deeper meaning. It means that God could and would overturn the whole order of nature and its laws, which made the sinner subject to death. He would do it to save His beloved ones. Death no longer keeps its fatal course. The life that was fading would begin again for the faithful remnant in the resurrection of the Messiah, their representative. For us it begins again in eternal life through the resurrection of the Saviour.
Commentators differ here. Where one praises Hezekiah's boldness, another asks why God's promise was not enough on its own.
But we have serious lessons to learn from this history. Was the word of the Lord not enough for Hezekiah to rely upon? No! He asked Isaiah to give him a sign to confirm God's promise that he would go up to the house of the Lord on the third day. Are we also like Hezekiah and the nobleman of John 4:46-53, to whom the Lord said, "Unless you see signs and wonders you will not believe"? Yet the Lord would still grant Hezekiah his desire for a sign.
The sign was given to one sick man in private. It did not stay private.
We know from elsewhere that it was not only the sickness that struck the Babylonians. It was this very return of the shadow ten degrees on the dial. They were great watchers of the heavens — watchers of just such a sign as this — and they were quite right. They traced it to king Hezekiah, to a fairly small kingdom and king, and that drew out their interest.
- Asked — Hezekiah asked for a sign. Writers differ: was it bold faith, or a weak grip on a promise already given?
- Answered — The shadow moved when "Isaiah the prophet called to the LORD." The miracle came through prayer.
- Reversed — God pushed time backwards on the very dial of Ahaz, the king who had refused an offered sign.
- Meant — The reversal pictures God overturning the order that holds sinners under death. A fading life begins again in resurrection.
- Reported — News of the wonder reached the sky-watchers of Babylon, and their interest turned toward Hezekiah.
At that time Berodach-Baladan, the son of Baladan, king of Babylon, sent a letter and a present to Hezekiah, for he had heard that Hezekiah had been sick.
God has just healed Hezekiah of a deadly illness, and turned the shadow backwards on the steps as a sign. Now a letter and a gift arrive from the king of Babylon — and this friendly note will do him more harm than an invading army did.
The verse gives Hezekiah's illness as the reason for the visit. Commentators point to something else as the real magnet.
We know from elsewhere that it was not just the sickness that struck the Babylonians. It was this very return of the shadow ten degrees on the dial. They were great watchers of the heavens — watchers of a sign like this — and they were quite right. They traced it to king Hezekiah; they traced it to a small kingdom and a small king. That drew out their interest all the more, since everyone knew this king had resisted the proud king of Assyria — and resisted him so well that the Assyrian went home with all his plans defeated.
The courtesy carried an agenda. Both Babylon and Judah had shaken off Assyrian rule, which made them natural partners. Where the ESV says Hezekiah welcomed the envoys, older translations read that he listened to them.
Babylon's king had thrown off the rule of Assyria. He wanted to stop that power from attacking again, so he looked for friends among the nations west of his kingdom. That is why he sent a letter and a present to Hezekiah by his ambassadors. Our passage says that Hezekiah "listened to them." So they had something to ask of him, some alliance to propose against their common enemy — the enemy whose yoke Hezekiah had himself thrown off. The Word does not tell us that this alliance was ever made, only that the king gave the ambassadors a warm welcome.
This verse marks a turn in the story. A new power steps onto the page, under a king whose name is spelled two ways.
Merodach-baladan (Berodach is the error of some scribe; see Isaiah 39:1), king of Babylon, sent letters and a present to Hezekiah when he heard of his sickness and his miraculous recovery. This is the first time we hear of a king of Babylon.
Hezekiah had already received one letter from a foreign king. Sennacherib of Assyria sent threats. This one came with compliments.
The "letter" and the "present" from the king of Babylon were too much for his hidden vanity — something native to us all. Sennacherib's letter and his rude delegation could not achieve this; they only drove him to his knees. The letter and friendly mission from Merodach-baladan did it — and nearly ruined him and his kingdom. How like the Christian and this world! Its frown has little power. Its subtle favour is what we have most to fear.
Chronicles tells us what was going on inside Hezekiah while the envoys stood in front of him.
A brief passage in Chronicles... tells us of Hezekiah's state of soul when the ambassadors were sent by the king of Babylon: "In those days Hezekiah became sick and was at the point of death, and he prayed to the LORD, and He answered him and gave him a sign. But Hezekiah did not make return according to the benefit done to him, for his heart was proud. Therefore wrath came upon him and Judah and Jerusalem. But Hezekiah humbled himself for the pride of his heart, both he and the inhabitants of Jerusalem, so that the wrath of the LORD did not come upon them in the days of Hezekiah." Here we see the king's feelings when he received the messengers of Babylon. "His heart was lifted up."
Nothing scandalous happened here. No idol, no treaty. The damage was all inside.
Hezekiah's sin on this occasion was known only to God. It was not a moral breakdown but a sin of the heart, which God alone could see and judge... Besides, it was only the special favour and goodness shown to him that made such an offence possible. The enemy's cunning trapped him into boasting in a fleshly way about the blessing that should have drawn him nearer to God.
The welcome cost far more than Hezekiah could have guessed.
Hezekiah was glad of this, but it was accepting the friendship of the world, and as a result his descendants would be captives.
- Sign. The reversed shadow on the dial, not just the recovery, drew Babylon's attention to a small king in a small kingdom.
- Smile. Sennacherib's threats drove Hezekiah to his knees. Merodach-baladan's compliments undid him. Fear the world's favour more than its frown.
- Snare. Behind the courtesy lay a proposed alliance, and Hezekiah gave its envoys a warm welcome.
- Search. Chronicles shows what Kings leaves out: his heart was lifted up — a sin of the heart that God alone could see.
- Sentence. Accepting the friendship of the world cost his descendants their freedom.
And Hezekiah hearkened to them, and shewed them all his treasure-house, the silver and the gold, and the spices and the fine oil, and all the house of his armour, and all that was found among his treasures there was nothing in his house, nor in all his dominion, that Hezekiah did not shew them.
God had just healed Hezekiah and added fifteen years to his life when envoys arrived from Babylon with letters and a gift. He had survived an invading army and a death sentence — so why did he open his whole house to a compliment?
Hezekiah had faced two earlier attacks and won both. What arrived from Babylon looked nothing like an attack, and that is why it worked.
Here we have another king attacking Hezekiah. It was not the king of Assyria with a large army. It was not death, the king of terrors, with a summons to surrender. It was the king of Babylon with a present. And strange as it may seem, the present from Babylon proved too strong an attacker for the heart of Hezekiah. When the king of Assyria sent letters to him, "he went up into the house of the Lord and spread them before the Lord." So he conquered. When told to prepare for death, "he turned his face to the wall and prayed to the Lord." So he was raised up. But when the ambassadors from the king of Babylon came to him, "he showed them all his treasure house." SO HE FELL.
The danger is not limited to kings and palaces.
It is always a dangerous thing for a saint of God when the world begins to be courteous to him.
Hezekiah's recent history gave him plenty to say about God. He gave his visitors a tour instead.
Pride was lurking in the hidden chambers of his heart. He could have told them about the One who dwelt between the cherubim, and about the great deliverance from the hand of the king of Assyria. He could have told them about the deep lessons learned at the gates of the grave, and about the pardoning love of God who had cast all his sins behind His back. Instead he showed them all his treasure house and his armory — which could not defend him from the king of Assyria. So it was all about himself and nothing about God.
The chance was real, and both sides missed it.
The wise men of Babylon had taken note of the wonder done in the land, and they had come to connect it with God's people and with the son of David. Here was surely an opportunity for testimony to the Lord. How great His power and His goodness towards His afflicted servant! But the king of Babylon saw only the creature in it; and Hezekiah, for his part, was glad to show it. How quickly we respond to flattery.
These treasures had a history and a character of their own. The problem was not their value but the way he now held them.
In 2 Kings 20:13 it is clear that Hezekiah saw the precious things only in relation to himself. He lost sight of their holy and unique character. He also forgot how much he owed to those who had laboured before him. So he came under judgment.
Two examinations were running at once, and only one of them was Hezekiah's idea. Older translations open the verse with "Hezekiah was glad of them."
He was glad of them: this explains it all. He calls them to examine his treasures; but God is calling him to the examination of his own heart. "I am king in Jerusalem," says that heart in its pride.
God already knew what was there; the trial was for Hezekiah's benefit.
It was all known to God; but the aim in His ways is to expose everything now, so that we may clear ourselves morally and humble ourselves in His presence. There may be much outward activity, and success too — success as men judge it — while He who searches hearts sees something secretly at work which, if not brought to light and judged now, would lead to final exposure.
Isaiah's answer fit the offence: everything paraded before Babylon would end up in Babylon.
All was to go to that very Babylon whose ambassadors had ensnared him. Everything his poor heart might boast of before the men of this world must go to ruin. He had displayed his treasures to the world, and the world was about to carry those very treasures away. But the "peace and truth" — the treasures he had in God — the world could neither give nor take away.
Babylon's courtesy had its own profit in view.
The world's wisdom cultivates profitable connections with the people of God. That wisdom is always a snare to them. Hezekiah might have made known the source and giver of all this; but he acted as a man.
- Threatened, then flattered. Assyria's threat drove Hezekiah to prayer and he won; Babylon's present found him off guard and he fell. The world's kindness is harder to survive than its hostility.
- Shown, not told. Visitors came asking about God's miracle. They left having seen only silver, gold and armory — a testimony traded for a tour.
- Borrowed, not earned. Others had laboured for these holy things. Hezekiah showed them off as his own, and lost sight of what made them holy.
- Tried, not trapped. The visit turned into God's examination of Hezekiah's heart, and pride was what it found.
- Lost, then kept. The world carried off everything he paraded before it. The peace and truth he had in God stayed beyond its reach.
Then came the prophet Isaiah to king Hezekiah and said to him, What said these men? and from whence came they to thee? And Hezekiah said, They came from a far country, from Babylon.
The Babylonian envoys have left, and Isaiah arrives with questions instead of a message: what did these men say, and where did they come from? The questions turn the king away from the treasures he had just shown off and back onto himself, and he answers without hiding a thing.
One commentator sees Isaiah taking a new role here. He also hears a warning in the place the visitors came from:
Isaiah plays a new role here, that of the Word which penetrates and searches us out. Happy are we if, like Hezekiah, we do not try to hide anything from Him with whom we must deal. The godly king, taken aside, acknowledges and owns everything before the prophet... "They have come from a far country, from Babylon," answered Hezekiah. In this "far country" the prodigal son could live in pleasure far from the face of God (Luke 15:13). Could such a place have anything to do with the presence of God? These men came "from Babylon," the birthplace of both rebellion against God and idol worship. Hezekiah had not made an alliance with their king, but he had bound himself to him by friendship.
No one threatened Hezekiah this time. One commentator suggests a political motive behind the courtesy, and contrasts the two dangers:
Isaiah came and asked Hezekiah what the messengers had said and where they came from. He answered that they came from a far country, Babylon. It may be that the king of Babylon was already considering rebellion against Assyria. He was looking for other nations who might help his cause. But Hezekiah, godly man as he was, forgot to inquire of God as to these men. The lion-like rage of Assyria did not sway him, but the serpent character of Babylon deceived him — its friendly, flattering appeal. How we need to be on our guard in both cases, and take every matter to the Lord.
The name Hezekiah says carried a future he could not yet see:
This chapter is of special interest. It is the first plain sign, in later times, of a power destined to overthrow the mighty kingdom of Assyria. The God of heaven would then set that power up, after the conquest of Jerusalem, in the imperial seat of the world, as an unrivalled king of kings from then on. It was as yet the struggle of a province to be independent.
Nothing Hezekiah did would have looked wrong to an observer. One writer explains why God dealt with it so seriously in a man so faithful:
The sin of Hezekiah on this occasion was known only to God; it was not a moral breakdown but a sin of the heart, which God alone could see and judge. Had he been a less faithful man, God might not have charged it against him so solemnly. His judgment must be most searching toward those who are near to Him and loved by Him. Besides, only the special favour and goodness shown to him personally made it possible for him to offend in this way. The cunning of the enemy trapped him into glorying in a fleshly way in the blessing that should have drawn him nearer to God.
Hezekiah could have argued back. Instead he bows. One writer sees that as the mark of a heart that is true underneath the failure:
He humbles himself under the hand and word of the Lord. It is always so with one who through grace is true at bottom. The look that brings sin to mind also assures us that He against whom the sin was done is unchanged in His love, and that He has provided for it all. Such a look produces a broken spirit.
- Gift — God's special favour to Hezekiah was the very thing that made this offence possible. Blessing that should have drawn him nearer to God became something to boast in.
- Flattery — Assyria's rage never moved him; Babylon's friendly, flattering approach deceived him. The courteous visitor is the more dangerous one.
- Question — Isaiah comes as the Word that penetrates and searches. Two questions — what they said, where they came from — reach the heart.
- Far country — Babylon was the birthplace of rebellion against God and of idol worship. It was still only a province fighting for independence, yet destined to conquer Jerusalem and rule the world.
- Confession — Hezekiah hides nothing and bows to God's word. The look that brings sin to mind also shows a love that has not changed, and it produces a broken spirit.
And he said, What have they seen in thy house? And Hezekiah said, All that is in my house have they seen there is nothing among my treasures that I have not shewn them.
Isaiah has already asked where the visitors came from; now he asks what they saw, and Hezekiah hides nothing. His answer is honest, but it is also a confession: a king God had just healed had much to show about himself and nothing to say about Him.
Isaiah's question does more than gather facts. It searches the man, and the king hides nothing.
Isaiah plays a new role here, that of the Word which penetrates and searches us out. Happy are we if, like Hezekiah, we do not try to hide anything from Him with whom we have to do. The godly king, taken aside, acknowledges and owns everything before the prophet.
Nothing looked wrong about a royal tour. What made it a fall was the subject: a man just raised from the edge of the grave showed off his silver and said nothing about God.
Nor would the world outside, nor perhaps his brothers within, have been able to detect anything wrong in his showing them the house of his treasures. But the secret thought was wrong — pride was lurking in the hidden chambers of his heart. He could have told them about the One who dwelt between the cherubim. He could have told them of the splendid rescue from the hand of the king of Assyria, of the deep lessons learned at "the gates of the grave," and of the pardoning love of God who had "cast all his sins behind His back." Instead, "he showed them the house of his precious things… and all the house of his armour (which could not defend him from the king of Assyria)." So it was all about himself, and nothing about God.
The visit was an open door, and it closed unused:
Here was a real chance to bear witness to the LORD. How great His power and His goodness had been to His suffering servant! But the king of Babylon saw only the man in it; and Hezekiah, for his part, was glad to show it off. How quickly we respond to flattery.
Hezekiah had beaten two earlier attacks. He met the third one differently.
Here we have another king attacking Hezekiah. It is not the king of Assyria with a large army. It is not death, the king of terrors, with a solemn summons to surrender. It is the king of Babylon with a present… When the king of Assyria sent letters to him "he went up into the house of the LORD and spread them before the LORD." So he conquered. When the summons came to prepare for death, "he turned his face to the wall and prayed to the LORD." So God raised him up. But when the ambassadors from the king of Babylon approached him, "he showed them the house of his precious things." SO HE FELL… No prayer — no seeking the Lord — no spiritual perception to detect the hook hidden under this gold-covered bait.
God stepped back and left the king to act on his own. The aim was not to trap him but to show him something.
Scripture says of Hezekiah that "God left him, to try him, that he might know what was in his heart." He learned, to his shame and sorrow, that there was a vast amount of self there. It was good to know it. Now it could be judged and put away, before it betrayed him into deeper and more serious sin.
God works the same way with us:
God knew it all. But His purpose in His dealings is to expose everything now, so that we may clear ourselves morally and humble ourselves in His presence. There may be much outward activity, and success too — success as man judges it. But He who searches the hearts may see something at work in secret. If it is not brought to light and judged now, it will end in exposure at last.
What he showed off is what he would lose.
All was to go to that very Babylon whose ambassadors had ensnared him. Everything in which his poor heart might boast before the men of this world must go to ruin. He had presented his treasures to the view of the world, and these very treasures the world was about to carry away; but the "peace and truth" — in other words, the treasures he had in God — "the world could neither give nor take away."
- Shown. Hezekiah showed off all he owned and said nothing about God — "all about himself, and nothing about God."
- Searched. Isaiah's question works like the Word itself. It searches and exposes, and the king's open answer leaves nothing hidden.
- Softened. Assyria's threats drove him to prayer. Babylon's gift found him off guard. The world's smile is the harder attack.
- Surfaced. God left him to test him. What hid in his heart came to light, so he could judge it now instead of later.
- Surrendered. Babylon would carry off everything he showed off. Only the treasure he held in God could not be taken.
And Isaiah said to Hezekiah, Hear the word of Jehovah
The prophet has just asked Hezekiah about the visitors from Babylon, and the king admitted he had shown them everything he owned. Now Isaiah stops asking and starts announcing — he calls the king to hear what the Lord says.
Isaiah is not here to collect facts. He comes to bring the king's heart into the light.
Isaiah plays a new role here, that of the Word which penetrates and searches us out. Happy are we if, like Hezekiah, we do not try to hide anything from Him with whom we have to do. The godly king, taken aside, acknowledges and owns everything before the prophet. Then Isaiah announces the judgment of God.
The failure behind this message was not an open scandal. It broke a promise Hezekiah had made only days before.
A few days before the Babylonian princes visited, Hezekiah had gone up to the house of the Lord to pour out his soul in thanksgiving for the mercies he had received. He had said, "I shall go softly all my years in the bitterness of my soul." No doubt he meant it at the time. But God put him to the proof. Instead of "going softly" all his days, he did not repay according to the benefit done to him, for his heart was lifted up. "God left him to try him that he might know all that was in his heart." God knew it all already. But His purpose in such ways is to expose everything now, so that we may clear ourselves morally and humble ourselves in His presence.
Hezekiah had already stood firm against an army. A friendly visit brought him down.
Hezekiah, godly man as he was, forgot to inquire of God about these men. Assyria's lion-like rage did not sway him. But Babylon's serpent character deceived him — its friendly, flattering appeal. How we need to be on our guard in both cases, and take every matter to the Lord.
Everything he showed his guests was real. What he left out condemned the tour.
But the secret thought was wrong — pride was lurking in the hidden chambers of his heart. He could have told them about the One who dwelt between the cherubim. He could have told them of the splendid deliverance from the hand of the king of Assyria. He could have told them of the deep lessons learned at "the gates of the grave," and of the pardoning love of God who had "cast all his sins behind his back." Instead he showed them the house of his precious things — the silver and the gold, the spices, the precious ointment, and all the house of his armour, which could not defend him from the king of Assyria. So it was all about himself, and nothing about God.
The word the king is called to hear does more than rebuke him. It carries him to the end of everything he had shown off.
"Nothing shall be left, says the LORD." Here the Lord led Hezekiah to see the end of his kingdom, of his house, and of himself. All was to go to that very Babylon whose ambassadors had ensnared him. Everything his poor heart might boast of before the men of this world must go to ruin. He had put his treasures on show before the world, and the world was about to carry those very treasures away. But the "peace and truth" — the treasures he had in God — the world could neither give nor take away.
Hezekiah's reply — that the word of the Lord is good — could sound like relief that the trouble would come later. Another book of the Bible settles what it meant.
If we only had Kings and Isaiah, we might have some doubts about what this reply meant. Hezekiah added, "there shall be peace and truth in my days". But the book of Chronicles says plainly: "Hezekiah humbled himself for the pride of his heart, he and the inhabitants of Jerusalem" (2 Chron. 32:26). That settles the character of his declaration. His heart had been lifted up, and God's discipline brought it down and bowed it. It is no small thing to call the word of judgment pronounced against us "good"!
The exile announced here did come. What came with it was not foretold in the threat.
Isaiah's prediction came true. But here is what we want to point out. In fulfilling His own word in judgment, God remembered mercy. Out of these very descendants of Hezekiah He raised up witnesses for Himself among Babylon's idolatrous corruptions.
- Word searches. The prophet comes as the word that penetrates. Hezekiah's safety lay in hiding nothing.
- Word exposes. God tested him so the lifted-up heart would surface now, not later.
- Word sentences. "Nothing shall be left" carries him past his treasures to the end of his kingdom, his house, and himself.
- Word humbles. Calling a judgment against you "good" is no small thing. Chronicles shows Hezekiah bowed under God's discipline.
- Word keeps mercy. Hezekiah's own descendants became God's witnesses in Babylon. Judgment fulfilled, mercy remembered.
Behold, days come that all that is in thy house, and what thy fathers have laid up until this day, shall be carried to Babylon; nothing shall be left, saith Jehovah.
Hezekiah has just told Isaiah that the visitors from Babylon saw everything he owned. The prophet answers by naming where it will all go, and how much will remain: nothing.
The fault was not in opening his door to guests. It was in what he chose to show them, and in what he left out:
The secret thought was wrong. Pride was hiding in the inner rooms of his heart. He could have told them about the One who dwelt between the cherubim. He could have told them of the splendid rescue from the hand of the king of Assyria, of the deep lessons learned at "the gates of the grave," and of the pardoning love of God who had "cast all his sins behind his back." Instead, "he showed them all his treasure house, the silver, the gold, the spices, the precious oil, his armory (which could not defend him from the king of Assyria), and all that was found in his storehouses." So it was all about himself, and nothing about God.
The verse names where the treasure will end up. One writer notes what that place stands for, and hears in the last words a verdict on any heart tied to earth:
These men came "from Babylon," the cradle of both rebellion against God and idolatrous worship… Is this not the final sentence of the Word if our hearts let the things of this earth attract them and puff them up? "And the world is passing away, along with its desires." Nothing shall be left!
The plunderers are the very people he had entertained. And the sentence reaches past his treasury to his sons and to himself:
Here the Lord led Hezekiah to see the end of his kingdom, of his house and of himself. All was to go to that very Babylon whose ambassadors had ensnared him. Everything in which his poor heart might boast before the men of this world must go to ruin. He had put his treasures on show before the world, and the world was about to carry those very treasures away. But the "peace and truth" — in other words, the treasures he had in God — "the world could neither give nor take away."
Older translations read "peace and truth"; the ESV has "peace and security."
One writer turns this into a warning about gifts put on show, and about what pride costs the one who shows them:
Pride of gifts. Suppose we call in spectators, as Hezekiah did, to see our treasure and applaud us for our gifts and comfort. Then it is high time for God to send messengers to carry away from us the very things that carry our hearts away from Him… Pride fills the soul, and a full soul will take nothing from God, much less from man.
God had already rescued Hezekiah from the king of Assyria. So the new name in this verse marks a turn:
He rises, as it were, from death — and then falls into vainglory before the ambassadors from Babylon. So the prophet announces Judah's captivity to this power, not to the Assyrian.
The same writer notes where the treasures go, and when the blow would not fall:
In his vanity David's son had spread out everything before the eyes of the strangers. All of it would be swept into Babylon, the city of confusion that God used to punish Jerusalem's idolatry. Only the blow would not fall in the days of the pious king, despite his failure.
The sentence came true, and the book of Daniel opens with it. One writer points to what God then did with the captives themselves:
The opening verses of Daniel reveal the fulfilment of Isaiah's prediction. But here is what we want to call attention to: in fulfilling His own word in judgment, God remembered mercy. It was out of these very descendants of Hezekiah that He raised up witnesses for Himself in the middle of Babylon's idolatrous corruptions.
The king hid nothing when questioned, and he did not argue with the verdict:
Hezekiah had hidden nothing from the Lord, and he accepts his sentence in all humility… With a contrite heart he accepts the consequences of what he did. The testimony God had entrusted to him does not escape his hands unharmed. On the contrary, it lies in ruins… His testimony could not hold itself up and slipped into ruin. Yet through this discipline his soul had recovered its fellowship with the Lord, and that humble confidence in Him which it had abandoned for a moment.
- Cause. The tour of the treasure house was all about Hezekiah and nothing about God. Pride was hiding behind it, and the prophet's word answers that pride.
- Sentence. "Nothing shall be left" is the settled end of everything a heart hoards on earth, for the world is passing away along with its desires.
- Reach. The loss runs from treasury to house to the king himself. Whatever we parade before the world is what the world carries off.
- Turn. The prophet names Babylon, not Assyria, as the power that will take Judah — yet the blow spares the godly king's own days.
- Kept. Babylon could not carry off his "peace and truth" in God — and out of those same exiled descendants God raised up His witnesses.
And of thy sons that shall issue from thee, whom thou shalt beget, shall they take away; and they shall be chamberlains in the palace of the king of Babylon.
Hezekiah has just shown envoys from Babylon every treasure in his palace. Isaiah answers with a sentence that reaches past the king's own lifetime and into his family line.
The loss falls on the very things the king had put on display. One writer traces how God led Hezekiah to look past his own reign to the end of everything he had:
Hezekiah was led to see the end of his kingdom, of his house, and of himself. All of it was to go to that very Babylon whose envoys had trapped him. Everything his poor heart might boast of before the men of this world had to go to ruin. He had shown the world his treasures, and the world was about to carry those very treasures away. But the "peace and truth" — that is, the treasures he had in God — "the world could neither give nor take away." It was "a better and an enduring substance" because it was "in heaven."
The word behind "eunuchs" carries more than one sense. Its later use in Scripture shows why:
One of the things foretold against Israel was that their sons would be made eunuchs in the palace of the king of Babylon. 2 Kings 20:18; Isa. 39:7. Daniel and his companions are an instance of this coming true, for they were put under the care of 'the master of the eunuchs.' Though the word saris means 'eunuch,' older English Bibles often translate it 'chamberlain' and 'officer,' because eunuchs held such positions of trust.
The failure was not idolatry or open rebellion. Something far gentler undid him:
The man who has learned resurrection through discipline is still not safe from being noticed here and made much of by Babylon. God's servant should have refused any such recognition. But he gave way, and so brought judgment on his house… Babylon stands for all the selfish, independent advancement of this world. To be honoured by it is too much for Hezekiah.
Many readers find it troubling that children are named in the sentence. One writer points to the way God governs the world:
What is in question here is the government of God… First came goodness and mercy. Then came the declaration that God will not hold the guilty innocent. Third came a principle of public government, which made the effects of wrongdoing felt: their children would bear the consequences. That principle could not be applied where the soul is in question. But in the outward government of the world it is important and helpful, and providence proves it true every day.
Another writer marks off where this principle stops:
This does not extend beyond this present life… No one will face the judgment of Gehenna for the sins of others, but only for the sins he has committed himself.
Daniel's opening chapter records the word coming true. But the fulfilment carried something the sentence itself did not promise:
The opening verses of this chapter show Isaiah's prediction coming true. But here is what we want to point out: in fulfilling His own word in judgment, God remembered mercy. It was out of these very descendants of Hezekiah that He raised up witnesses for Himself in the middle of Babylon's idol worship and corruption.
Commentators differ on Hezekiah's reply. One reads it as genuine submission won through discipline:
Hezekiah, having hidden nothing from the Lord, accepts his sentence in all humility… With a contrite heart he accepts the consequences of what he did. The testimony God had entrusted to him does not come through his hands unharmed. On the contrary, it is ruined beyond repair. This revival began in the freshness of divine power, and it ends through the fault of the very man God had used to begin it. But in a personal way Hezekiah's heart and conscience had gained through these experiences. His testimony could not stand and slipped into ruin, yet through discipline his soul recovered its fellowship with the Lord.
Another reads it as a view that stops too short:
Did he have no real concern for the days of his successors in Judah?… We wonder therefore if Hezekiah was not impressed enough by the seriousness of his failure.
- Cause — Hezekiah's failure was not gross wickedness. He gave way when the world admired him. Babylon's notice proved too much for him.
- Sentence — What he showed off, the world would carry off. The treasures paraded before Babylon's envoys were the very things marked for Babylon.
- Reach — The word touched his sons. This belongs to God's public government of the world, where children feel the effects of a father's conduct. It is not the question of eternal judgment, where each answers for himself.
- Fulfilment — Daniel and his companions stood in Babylon's palace under the master of the eunuchs, just as the word said.
- Mercy — From those same descendants God raised up His witnesses in Babylon. Judgment ran its course; grace worked inside it.
And Hezekiah said to Isaiah, Good is the word of Jehovah which thou hast spoken. And he said, Is it not so? if only there shall be peace and truth in my days!
Isaiah has just told Hezekiah that Babylon will take his treasures and his sons, and the king calls that word good. Commentators read the reply in two ways: as real submission to God, or as relief that the blow falls after his own lifetime.
One writer settles the question from a third record: Chronicles.
The second book of Kings and the book of Isaiah record Hezekiah's reaction: "The word of the LORD that you have spoken is good" (2 Kings 20:19; Isa. 39:8). If we only had these two books, we might doubt what this reply means. Hezekiah added, "there shall be peace and truth in my days." But the book of Chronicles says plainly: "Hezekiah humbled himself for the pride of his heart, both he and the inhabitants of Jerusalem" (2 Chr. 32:26). That defines the character of his declaration. The heart that had been lifted up was brought down and bowed under the discipline of God. It is no small thing to call the word of judgment pronounced against us "good"!
(The ESV has "peace and security" here. These writers quote an older wording, "peace and truth.")
This reply comes after a fall. One writer lists what Hezekiah had already seen God do, and how little it held him.
On every ground Hezekiah should have known better. Instead he forgot even the lessons of his sickness, and God's dealing with Sennacherib's army. He gave himself to the things of men, and sank to the level of a worldly politician. But at least the solemn rebuke of the LORD through Isaiah called him back. He humbly accepted the divine word with his usual devotion and thanksgiving.
Commentators differ over the added clause. One reads it as real gratitude that the blow falls later, not as a father shrugging off his children's fate.
When he hears the judgment pronounced by the prophet on his descendants, he meekly submits and says, "The word of the LORD that you have spoken is good… For there will be peace and truth in my days." On this last part, one writer puts it well: "Not the language of mere selfishness. It is the language of a man who feels that the nation's corruption must at last bring the threatened judgment, and who thanks God that the blow is put off for a time."
Another writer sets this answer beside that of King Josiah, and finds Hezekiah the smaller of the two.
Yet the answer from the heart of Hezekiah cannot be compared with that of Josiah. Hezekiah seemed to be more concerned with himself. Of the judgment his folly would bring on his house he said, "The word of the LORD that you have spoken is good… if peace and truth be in my days" (2 Kings 20:19).
His acceptance of the sentence did not undo the damage. One writer weighs the two sides of the outcome.
Hezekiah, having hidden nothing from the LORD, accepts his sentence in all humility. His words recall King David's, "I have sinned against the LORD," but they say more: "The word of the LORD that you have spoken is good." With a contrite heart he accepts the consequences of what he did. The testimony God had entrusted to him does not come out of his hands unharmed. On the contrary, it is ruined beyond repair. This revival began in the freshness of divine power. It ends through the fault of the man who had been its instrument. But personally Hezekiah's heart and conscience had gained through these experiences.
The delay he hoped for came. The same writer traces it to discipline that had done its work.
Discipline had produced its fruit. So Hezekiah's wish came true: "if only there shall be peace and truth in my days!" "The wrath of the LORD did not come upon them in the days of Hezekiah" (2 Chr. 32:26).
The delay was not a cancellation. Another writer follows the sentence to the men who lived through it.
About one hundred years later this startling prophecy came true to the letter. The opening verses of the book of Daniel bring us to it. The Babylonian king came, besieged the city of Jerusalem and conquered it. Among those carried away was Daniel with his companions.
- Pride. Hezekiah forgot what God had already taught him, and sank to the level of a worldly politician.
- Probe. A solemn rebuke came through Isaiah, and it reached the heart that had been lifted up.
- Submission. Hezekiah called a word of judgment "good." That is Chronicles' "humbled himself for the pride of his heart," said out loud. It is no small thing to say.
- Reprieve. The LORD's wrath did not fall in his days. God gave that much to a man who bowed.
- Reckoning. Delay is not cancellation. A century later Babylon carried Daniel away, and the word proved true.
And the rest of the acts of Hezekiah, and all his might, and how he made the pool and the aqueduct, and brought the water into the city, are they not written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Judah?
Hezekiah's reign closes with one public work named: a pool, a channel, and water brought inside the walls of Jerusalem. The verse then points to another book, now lost. What did God choose to keep, and what did He leave out?
Other water channels ran near Jerusalem, and parts of one still survive. Scripture records Hezekiah's work in two places.
A channel for carrying water. There are still remains of one that carried water from what are called Solomon's pools to Jerusalem. We read that Hezekiah, by means of a pool and a conduit, brought water into Jerusalem. 2 Kings 20:20; compare also 2 Chronicles 32:30.
The pool and its tunnel can still be visited today:
The pool still exists under the name of the Birket Silwan. It is supplied with water from a spring higher up the hill, called the Virgin's Fountain. Several travellers have gone through the passage that connects the two. In some parts they walked upright, and elsewhere they stooped, knelt, or crawled on hands and knees. A short inscription was found at the pool. It only said that the passage was begun at both ends at the same time and met in the middle. The letters are ancient. This has led to the suggestion that the passage was made in the days of Hezekiah, who made changes to the watercourses.
Of everything that could be told about this king, the water supply is what the verse names. Commentators take that as a mark of the man:
Verse 20 speaks of other acts of Hezekiah recorded in the book of the Chronicles of the kings of Judah. It names especially his bringing water into the city by a tunnel (or aqueduct). This emphasises the positive character of goodness in Hezekiah. If our reputation includes such positive good done for the people of God, this is worthwhile.
The point is not that the king carried water to people, but that he put the source within their reach:
An important project of Hezekiah was bringing running water into Jerusalem by a tunnel. He diverted the water from the Upper Gihon River (2 Chronicles 32:30). This pictures him making the truth of the Word of God (the water) available to all the people, so that they might get it for themselves. How good it is if leaders help others to find blessing in Scripture for themselves!
The verse sends us to "the Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Judah" — a record that no longer exists. Commentators explain what those court annals were and why their loss costs the believer nothing:
These chronicles were drawn up during the reigns of all the rulers of those times, whether Jewish or Gentile. They have nothing to do with the Word of God. What it has not pleased the Lord to record or to explain is found written there. These chronicles have been lost; perhaps someone will one day find fragments of them. The believer has no need of any of them; he has God's Word. There, in God's account, he finds all that is necessary for him. He also finds the divine assessment of people, events, and things. Certain deeds may be recorded in non-inspired writings, even with great accuracy. But such deeds are never accompanied by anything more than a human assessment.
The writer of Kings did not ignore such records. He drew on them, and he did not do so alone:
In various places the writer refers to books which contain more about the life of the king in question. He may have based his accounts on them... The author of the books of Kings wrote a God-inspired work. He was able to use these "references" under the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
Hezekiah recovered from his sickness. Commentators weigh what the years after it show:
If this good king had been able to foresee the wickedness of his unworthy son, he would surely have had no desire to recover from his sickness... We must not presume to judge God's honoured servant. But it does appear that he would have done better to submit humbly to God's will in his sickness. He could surely have left it to God to care for the succession... Nothing to his honour is recorded as done by him after his recovery from his sickness.
- Source. Hezekiah drew on a spring outside Jerusalem and cut a channel through rock. People still walk through what is left of it.
- Channel. A conduit does not create water; it carries it. Commentators see in it a picture of making the Word of God reachable by ordinary people.
- City. The water went inside the walls, so the people could draw it themselves. A leader's legacy is good done for others.
- Record. The fuller court annals are lost, and nothing is lost with them. They held human facts. Scripture holds God's assessment, and that is what the believer needs.
- Verdict. One good work is named. After his recovery nothing else is recorded to his honour — a long life is not the same as a full one.
And Hezekiah slept with his fathers; and Manasseh his son reigned in his stead.
A reign of revival and reform ends in one short sentence: the king dies, and his son takes the throne. The name of that son — Manasseh — turns this quiet line into one of the most searching endings in the books of Kings.
Just before this verse, Hezekiah accepts the sentence God spoke over him. One writer weighs what he lost and what he gained.
Hezekiah, having hidden nothing from the Lord, accepts his sentence in all humility. His words recall David's words: "I have sinned against the LORD." But they say even more: "The word of the LORD that you have spoken is good." With a repentant heart he accepts the results of what he has done. The testimony God had entrusted to him does not leave his hands unharmed. It is ruined beyond repair. This revival began in the freshness of God's power, and it ends through the fault of the very man God had used to begin it. But in himself, in heart and conscience, Hezekiah had gained through these experiences.
So he dies a restored man whose work lies in ruins.
Hezekiah's death is more than a private loss. What God had begun in the nation was tied to one man.
By this time the people had corrupted themselves badly. The impulse God had given died out completely with the man in whom it worked. The son of Hezekiah was a model of wickedness. God was about to hand power over to the nations. He was showing that sure blessing followed faithfulness and trust in Himself. Even so, He let the house of David sink into disgrace.
Earlier in the chapter God added fifteen years to Hezekiah's life. One writer traces the new king back to that gift.
2 Kings 21:1 shows that his son Manasseh, who followed him, was only 12 years old when he began to reign. So he was born after Hezekiah's recovery, in the extra 15 years of life God gave him. And this Manasseh reigned for 55 years. He did such evil in the nation, and with it, that God had to send the people into captivity in Babylon. 2 Kings 21:10-16 shows this plainly. Learn from this. We may plead with God for something we count a favour, and He may grant it. Later we may find that the "favour" we demanded brought results that were not favourable at all.
One writer weighs the whole reign and finds the closing years oddly empty.
But the record says little to Hezekiah's credit in the last 15 years of his reign. We may well wonder if he afterwards felt it might have been better for him to die when God first told him to. At his death his son Manasseh took the throne.
The same lesson runs the other way too. Hezekiah's own father, Ahaz, was a wicked man.
As has been said, Ahaz was an unusually bad man to come from such a good father. Here the opposite is true: Hezekiah was an unusually good man, with such a wicked father. How true, and how widely it applies, is the wise Preacher's comment about those who come after us, whether in a kingdom or in the smaller circle of a home: "who knows whether he will be wise or a fool?" (Ecc. 2:19.)
The name that closes this verse is not where Manasseh's story ends.
God brought the king of Assyria against Manasseh, who bound him with chains and carried him to Babylon. There Manasseh, in his trouble, humbled himself deeply, and prayed to the Lord his God. God heard his prayer and brought him back to Jerusalem. Then he knew that the LORD was God. He removed the idols, repaired the altar of the Lord, and sacrificed to Him... Thus God gave repentance to this wicked king, for His mercy endures forever. He is often held up as a trophy of God's marvellous grace in Old Testament times.
- Prayer — Hezekiah asked for more life and got it. The gift we press God for can carry a cost we never counted.
- Penitence — his testimony ended in ruin through his own fault, yet through God's discipline his heart and conscience gained.
- Passing — the impulse God gave died out with the man in whom it worked. A work carried by one leader can end when he does.
- Posterity — no one can be sure who will follow him. A wicked father produced Hezekiah, and Hezekiah produced Manasseh.
- Pardon — the wicked son named here humbled himself in the end, and God restored him. The line that reads like disaster is where grace starts again.