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.