And the king of Assyria sent Rab-shakeh from Lachish to Jerusalem, to king Hezekiah, with a strong force. And he stood by the aqueduct of the upper pool, on the highway of the fuller's field.
Sennacherib has already taken Judah's fortified cities. Now he sends his chief spokesman with an army to stand outside Jerusalem's wall and talk. The spot he chooses is not random, and his words aim past the king at the people listening above him.
Hezekiah had already tried to buy the invader off. He emptied the temple of its silver and pried the gold from its doors. One commentator shows what that money bought:
The godly king did what he could to strengthen his defences. He sent the humblest message to the proud Assyrian. He gave him all the silver in Jehovah'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 bold enough to demand everything. So the king of Assyria sends Rabshakeh from Lachish to insult king Hezekiah, to blaspheme the God of Israel, and to lure the people into unconditional surrender to his master.
Another writer adds what trust in the Lord would have done instead:
Hezekiah could have kept the gold and silver and still not been defeated by Assyria. He learned that by experience when he trusted the Lord. The king of Assyria proved himself treacherous by sending a great army against Jerusalem.
The name is not a personal name at all. It marks an office, and the man holding it had one qualification that made him dangerous:
This is a title, and 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 language of the Jews, many think he was either a convert to the Jewish faith or a Jew who had abandoned it. He claimed that the Lord Himself had sent him up against the land to destroy it. Yet he also profanely classed the God of Israel with the gods that could not protect their worshippers from his master.
The conduit of the upper pool was not new ground. One commentator ties the spot to an earlier scene there:
That is the spot where Ahaz despised the gracious word of Jehovah through Isaiah some thirty years before. There the Assyrian now hurled insults at Jehovah and the king.
Isaiah had already made water the picture of this invasion:
The water of Shiloah was despised, so the very different waters of the Assyrian had to come, and they all but overwhelm the land. Then He whose birth God had announced to the unbelieving Ahaz as His sign in mercy will at last appear to vindicate His land. The Assyrian fills the land in his pride, reaching even "to the neck." Yet he is not just checked and put to shame. He is broken completely and for ever in Immanuel's land.
The army came, but the weapon was words. Hezekiah's officials tried to interrupt the speech, and it backfired:
He was a skilled diplomat, and he gave his cunning speech in the language of the Jews. He and his fellow officers stood by the conduit of the upper pool, on the highway to the Washer's Field, most likely on rising ground. Hezekiah's ministers interrupt him… They did not know the crafty Rabshakeh. He turned their fear to his own advantage and answered: "Has my master sent me to your master and to you to speak these words? Has he not sent me to the men who sit on the wall?"… He hoped to stir up rebellion in the city, so as to take it without a siege. But he worked for nothing: the people "kept silent and answered him not a word, for the king's command was, 'Do not answer him.'"
Isaiah is a book of prophecy. These four history chapters sit inside it for a reason:
Isaiah 36-39 tell the history of Sennacherib's invasion, its result, and the deadly illness of Hezekiah that came before it. They teach the remnant how to wait on the Lord. And this deliverance is, in substance, a picture of what will take place with the Assyrian in the last days.
Another writer places the whole episode under a different hand:
God so controls the evil and the passions of men that He makes them serve His purpose. Through them He gives a hint of what He will yet do for His own glory.
- Payment. Buying off the enemy bought nothing. The silver and gold only brought the Assyrian back to demand everything.
- Pressure. The weapon sent from Lachish was a spokesman, not a siege engine. Sennacherib chose an officer who could argue in the language of the Jews.
- Place. He stood where Ahaz had once despised God's word, and where Isaiah had pictured the flooding "waters of the Assyrian."
- People. Rabshakeh aimed his speech past the officials at the men on the wall. He wanted surrender from inside. Silence defeated him.
- Purpose. Commentators read the whole invasion as a rehearsal. God bent an enemy's pride into a preview of a deliverance still to come.
Then came forth to him Eliakim the son of Hilkijah, who was over the household, and Shebna the scribe, and Joah the son of Asaph, the chronicler.
Three of Hezekiah's top officials walk out of Jerusalem to meet the spokesman of the Assyrian king. The verse looks like plain court protocol, yet the men, their titles, and the ground they stand on all carry weight.
The verse names three officials by their jobs. Shebna is called the secretary here, and the scribe in older translations:
In the Old Testament this word is applied to the officer who carried on the correspondence for a king, the army, and so on — what we would now generally call a secretary.
Eliakim heads the list, and that order is not accidental:
Son of Hilkiah, and chief of the household of Hezekiah… Eliakim must have held a high office; he is named before the scribe and the recorder.
Isaiah 22 had already announced this change of office. Compare the titles there with the titles here and you can watch the word come true:
Notice this: in Isaiah 22:15 Shebna is the one called "over the house." But in Isaiah 36:3, 22, and Isaiah 37:2, Eliakim is the one "over the house," and Shebna comes after him as "the scribe." So during the reign of Hezekiah, Eliakim was exalted, and Shebna was falling from his very high position.
Commentators read the promotion as pointing beyond itself:
In Isaiah 22 God calls him His servant: Shebna was to be set aside, and Eliakim was to be clothed and raised up as governor. He was to have the key of David, with full power to open and shut. Here he is a picture of Christ when He comes to take His place over Israel.
The place where the Assyrian planted himself was not new ground in this book:
The Assyrian took his stand by the aqueduct of the upper pool, on the highway of the fuller's field. That was the very place where Ahaz despised the gracious word of Jehovah through Isaiah some thirty years before. Now, in that same place, the Assyrian insulted Jehovah and the king.
One writer follows that same spot through the whole book:
The Sign of God runs through the whole book like a connecting cord that binds the sections together. We see it plainly in the first section, in Isaiah 7. It appears unbroken in the central historical section (Isaiah 36-39). First, we see Isaiah (meaning "the salvation of the Lord") with Shear-jashub (meaning "the remnant shall return"). They stand to speak of salvation "at the end of the conduit of the upper pool." In the centre, it is the enemy who stands "at the end of the conduit of the upper pool." He threatens destruction.
after_note: DELETE
The Assyrian spokesman, Rabshakeh, did not use crude bullying. He wove real facts and religious language into his threats:
He mixes truth into insults, lies, and profane abuse of every kind; for there were those (not Hezekiah) who did look to Egypt for help. But the whole aim was to drive the Jews to despair and to serve the designs of Assyria. So he twists the king's own piety, his zeal for Jehovah in throwing down the altars of false gods, into a charge of robbing Jehovah of His honour. The enemy knows how to give a religious gloss to his own wicked schemes 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!
The three did not come out strong. They asked the Assyrian to switch languages so the crowd on the wall would not follow. That fear handed him an idea:
These three men were alarmed. They were afraid of the effect on the Jewish people, so they begged him not to speak in the Jews' language where the people could hear… That request 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.
But the delegation of three was never the real audience:
The blasphemer taunted them, demanding whether Jehovah would deliver Jerusalem. He little thought who was listening. Not only Eliakim, Shebna, and Joah, and not only the men on the wall, but Jehovah Himself. It was now His affair.
- The place remembers. The Assyrian shouts his threats at the very spot where Ahaz once despised God's word. The ground itself ties unbelief in one generation to attack in the next.
- The office fulfils. Eliakim now stands "over the household," with Shebna named behind him as secretary. Isaiah 22 said it would happen, and here it has.
- The key points forward. Commentators see the man who holds the key of David, opening and shutting, as a picture of Christ taking His place over Israel.
- The enemy sounds religious. Rabshakeh mixes real facts with God's name, so only Scripture can sort truth from spin.
- The audience is God. Three anxious officials heard the blasphemy — but so did the Lord, and from that moment the matter was His.
And Rab-shakeh said to them, Say now to Hezekiah, Thus says the great king, the king of Assyria What confidence is this in which thou trustest?
The Assyrian army has already swallowed Judah's fortified cities. Now an officer stands at Jerusalem's wall with one question for Hezekiah: what are you leaning on? He speaks for "the great king," a title meant to make every other confidence look absurd. Older translations read, "What confidence is this in which you trust?" — the wording the writers below use.
The officer attacks the one thing that had marked Hezekiah's reign. His question shows what he cannot imagine: a king in a trap resting on someone he cannot see.
The first part of Rabshakeh's speech deals with Hezekiah's trust in the Lord, the trust we have seen marking his piety. "What confidence is this in which you trust? … Now on whom do you rely, that you have revolted against me?" Here the Assyrian's enormous pride shows itself. Could Hezekiah resist the Assyrian army, stripped of his territory and shut up in Jerusalem like a bird in a cage? The last thing the enemy imagines is that a man may trust an invisible God. He never thinks Hezekiah might have other governing principles, other help than the world's.
The messenger speaks for a king who calls himself great. He treats Judah's talk of resistance as bluff, and assumes the real answer must be a foreign army.
The Rabshakeh then declared that "the great king, the king of Assyria" demanded to know where Judah placed its confidence. He accused Judah of speaking "mere words" in saying they had plans and power for war. Whether Judah had really said this is open to question. But he asked, "in whom do you trust, that you rebel against me?" 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.
What makes the speech dangerous is that parts of it are true.
His master sends Rabshakeh from Lachish to insult king Hezekiah, to blaspheme the God of Israel, and to draw the people into unconditional surrender. Along with insolent, deceitful, and profane abuse of every kind, he mixes in truth; for there were those (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 enemy knows how to give a religious coating to his own wicked schemes. He does it as easily as he blackens the most faithful of God's servants. What a mercy to have the unerring standard of His word to test and be tested by!
The taunt is shrewd about politics and blind about God.
How little the natural man understands the ground of the trust of faith! … 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 clearly enough how empty it was to trust Egypt. But he 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 becomes folly the moment it comes near God. Wise enough about Egypt: that was plain. But the moment he thinks of God — foolishness.
Picture the two sides as an onlooker would have seen them.
Look at this astonishing scene. Go to the sanctuary. There you see one poor, weak man on his knees, alone, pouring out his soul to Him who dwelt between the cherubim. No military preparations, no reviewing of troops… all is apparent weakness. On the other side, see a mighty conqueror leading a huge army flushed with victory, all eager for plunder. Surely, one might say, humanly speaking, it is all over with Hezekiah and Jerusalem.
One writer sees the same tactic turned on Christians.
This is a very common temptation. Satan first tries to get our thoughts off Christ. Then, once we are taken up with ourselves and our failings, he may persuade us to say less and less about the blessed Lord we love. Faith he cannot destroy; whatever ground he gains, there is still trust in Him in the real child of God. This enraged Rabshakeh to madness; he says, "What confidence is this in which you trust?" (Ch. 36:4.)
- Trust attacked. The Assyrian goes after Hezekiah's confidence, not Jerusalem's walls.
- Trust misread. The enemy cannot conceive of reliance on an invisible God, so he assumes the answer must be Egypt.
- Trust slandered. The taunt mixes real facts with religious language, so only God's word can test it.
- Trust outreasoned. The world can be right about politics and foolish the moment it speaks about God.
- Trust untouched. Pressure may shake faith, but the attack cannot destroy it.
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?
An officer of the Assyrian army stands outside the wall of Jerusalem and cross-examines a king through his messengers. His question is not about armies but about trust: where does Hezekiah's confidence really rest?
The Assyrian officer, Rabshakeh, treats Judah's claim of a war plan as nothing but breath. Older translations read it as "you say — but they are only empty words — I have counsel and strength for the war." One writer answers that the sneer misses where the counsel and the strength really lay.
How little does the natural man understand the ground of the trust of faith! "And have counsel and strength for the war." Nothing of the sort. It was God that had counsel; it was God that had strength for the Assyrian.
To the Assyrian only one answer seems possible: Egypt. An invisible God is not on the list of options he can imagine.
Here the Assyrian's formidable pride shows itself. Hezekiah had lost his land 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. He never imagines that Hezekiah might be governed by other principles, or have any help other than the world's. If he were trusting in someone, it must be in Egypt.
That assumption may not even have matched the facts. One commentator doubts Judah ever made the boast. He reads the Egypt charge as the enemy's own assumption:
It may be a question whether Judah had actually said this or not. But he asked, "in whom do you trust, that you rebel against me?" 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.
Rabshakeh goes on to call Egypt a mere reed, and there he is right. His sharpness about Egypt and his blindness about God sit side by side in the same speech.
There is a great deal of truth in the world's talk. So far Rabshakeh was very right. The king of Egypt was only a reed. The Assyrian could see very well the emptiness of trusting Egypt. But he 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 draws near to God. Wise enough about Egypt: that was plain. But the moment that he thinks of God — foolishness.
Some of it was true, which made the speech more dangerous. The enemy even turned the king's obedience to God against him.
Insults like this were shameless, deceitful, and profane — yet truth was mixed in with them. Some people (not Hezekiah) really did look to Egypt for help. But the aim of it all was to reduce the Jews to despair, and to carry out the designs of Assyria. So the king's very 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. Jehovah, he pretended, was the One who had sent his master up against Hezekiah. This is how the enemy dresses his own wicked schemes in religious language. He can blacken the most faithful of God's servants just as easily. What a mercy to have the unerring standard of His word to test and be tested by!
The charge of "mere words" is worth turning on ourselves.
We so easily deceive ourselves with certain phrases. As far as we are concerned, they have no force, no value, no truth whatever. The language of faith is on our lips, but the heart is full of creature confidence. We talk to men about our faith in God so they may help us out of our difficulties.
So the taunt became a 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 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 commandment was, saying, 'Answer him not.'"
- The question. "In whom do you trust?" is the hinge of the whole speech. Every other insult is there to make that trust look absurd.
- The blind spot. The enemy cannot picture anyone relying on an invisible God. If Hezekiah trusts someone, it must be Egypt.
- The half-truth. He is right about Egypt and wrong about God — the world's sharpness fails the moment it comes near to God.
- The danger. Truth was mixed with insult and dressed in religious language, all aimed at despair. God's word is the standard that tests everything.
- The test. Saying we trust God is not enough. The furnace proves it — and Hezekiah's proof was the silent dignity of faith.
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 at Jerusalem's wall and mocks King Hezekiah for leaning on Egypt. The taunt raises a hard question: how can an enemy of God be right about where Judah's trust had gone?
Hezekiah had already tried several ways of buying safety. One writer notes that failure, and the truth inside the enemy's abuse:
The godly king 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 the gold off its doors and pillars. It was all in vain. There was little of the simplicity, strength, or wisdom of faith in any of this... Along with insolent, deceitful, and profane abuse of every kind, truth mixes in; for there were those (not Hezekiah) who did look to Egypt for help. But the aim of it all was to drive the Jews to despair.
The reed does not just fail to help. It wounds the man who leans on it:
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 (a picture of the world) for help, and form ungodly alliances, they do so to their own hurt and shame.
Rabshakeh does not stop at Egypt. He goes on to mock trust in the God of Israel. There his clear sight fails:
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. "But if you say to me, We trust in the Lord our God" — 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.
God later says the same thing about Egypt through His own prophet:
And as a ground of trust for Israel, Egypt's character is described most accurately by a heathen man... And the Lord entirely confirms this judgment through Ezekiel: "Then all the inhabitants of Egypt shall know that I am the Lord. Because you have been a staff of reed to the house of Israel, when they grasped you with the hand, you broke and tore all their shoulders; and when they leaned on you, you broke and made all their loins to shake."
Egypt was the country God had rescued them from. That is what made the habit 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. It is equally offensive to God if the Christian goes back to the world-system. God has delivered him from it and from its coming judgment. But he goes back relying on its power or its wisdom, instead of finding his resource in God as emergencies arise.
The same failure shows up whenever we take help on terms that shut God out:
It is only the old leaning on Egypt that we find so much of in Israel's case. In the end they found it a broken reed. Even their own enemies judged it a staff that "will pierce the hand of any man who leans on it." And yet how constantly we still look for help of this kind! We call for or accept help that cuts us off from the help of God. All such things deny Him who alone is enough to keep His people safe.
The Gospels use the same picture for men who claimed to support the weak. One writer sets them beside the Lord's Servant:
They had a pretence of supporting the weak, but when leaned on they could only wound (see Isaiah 36:6; Ezekiel 29:6-7)... But see the Lord's Servant in the moral beauty of His service: "My beloved with whom My soul is well pleased... He will not quarrel or cry aloud... a bruised reed He will not break, and a smoldering wick He will not quench, until He brings justice to victory."
- The prop — Egypt is a reed staff: it offers support, then snaps under weight and wounds the hand that leaned on it.
- The witness — the taunt comes from a blasphemer, yet it is true of Egypt. God repeats it later through Ezekiel.
- The blind spot — the world sees through other props, yet calls trust in God foolishness.
- The pattern — Israel kept going back to the place God had rescued them from. We do the same when we take help that cuts us off from God's help.
- The contrast — men who wound the weak are the broken reed. God's Servant will not break a bruised reed. He carries justice through to victory.
And if thou 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?
Sennacherib's spokesman, Rabshakeh, stands at the wall of Jerusalem, and his sharpest weapon is not an army but a religious argument. The God Hezekiah trusts, he says, is the very God whose altars Hezekiah tore down.
The speech mixes real facts with slander. The Assyrian takes Hezekiah's best act and turns it into a charge against him.
Along with insults of every kind — insolent, deceitful and profane — some truth is mixed in, for there were those (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 godliness, his zeal for the Lord in throwing down the altars of false gods, is turned by a cunning twist into a charge of robbing the Lord of His honour. This is the God from whom, he pretended, his master had received his orders to come up against Hezekiah. So the enemy knows how to give a religious gloss to his own wicked schemes 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!
The taunt only works if those altars were the Lord's own. They were not.
Rabshakeh 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 command of the Lord. But Hezekiah had been obedient and faithful.
He also gave Judah something in place of what he pulled down.
Hezekiah had honoured God by destroying this idol worship and returning to the true worship of having one altar, a symbol of Christ.
Rabshakeh's mistake had a cause, and Judah's own past had handed it to him.
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 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 the same way. And now you are saying, "As for us, we trust in the Lord!" What Lord, tell me? The Lord of the high places, or the Lord of the altar you have just set up? Are they different from one another?
Notice where the speech is right, and where it collapses.
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 well enough how empty it was to trust Egypt. But he could not see the wisdom of trusting in the Lord. "But if you say to me, 'We trust in the LORD our God'" — now you see how the world's wisdom becomes folly the moment it comes near to God. Wise enough about Egypt: that was plain. But the moment he thinks of God — foolishness.
Hezekiah never argues the point. Watch what his tested faith does instead.
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.'"
Another writer asks what you should do when a mocker claims God is on his side and not yours.
The enemy was questioning his trust in God, defying him and mocking him. What should he do? Let the enemy talk, but himself hold his peace, 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 first. Hezekiah tore down the high places because Deuteronomy 12 commanded it. Good kings before him had ignored that command.
- Obedience slandered. The enemy took that same act and dressed it up as robbing God of His honour — a religious gloss over a wicked scheme.
- Slander explained. Judah's own unfaithfulness taught the Assyrian to see the Lord as one more idol among many.
- Slander exposed. The world can be right about Egypt and foolish the moment it speaks of God.
- Trust proved. Saying we trust God is not enough. Hezekiah proved it: he gave no answer and looked to God.
And now engage, I pray thee, with my master the king of Assyria, and I will give thee two thousand horses, if thou be able on thy part to set riders upon them.
Rabshakeh, the Assyrian envoy, stands outside Jerusalem's wall and mocks Hezekiah with an offer: two thousand horses, if Judah can find enough men to ride them. The sneer hides a real question: where does a weak people find strength when it has no cavalry to count?
The ESV reads "make a wager." Older translations say "give pledges," and that word usually belongs to the world of loans and security. Here it means something else:
People took articles as security for loans from very early times, and the law set limits so that no one could take unfair advantage. In 2 Kings 18:23 and Isaiah 36:8 the sense is "to make an engagement or treaty."
The horses are not a gift. They are bait. The next line sets the hook: Judah could not drive back even one Assyrian captain.
Then the Rabshakeh offered a bribe of 2,000 horses if Judah would pledge allegiance to the king of Assyria (2 Kings 18:23). He adds a warning: they could not drive back one captain of the Assyrians, even though they trusted in Egypt. So he knew how to appeal to both their greed and their fear.
Rabshakeh is not just lying. Some in Judah had turned to Egypt for help, exactly as he said. That is what makes the speech dangerous.
He mixes truth into insults, lies, and profane abuse of every kind. There really were people (not Hezekiah) who looked to Egypt for help. But the whole aim was to drive the Jews to despair and to carry out Assyria's plans... So the enemy knows how to dress up his own wicked schemes in religious language, as easily as he can smear the most faithful of God's servants. What a mercy that we have the perfect standard of His word — we test everything by it, and it tests us!
Rabshakeh assumes horses decide the outcome. Scripture had answered that long before Assyria came — and Solomon, the king who wrote the answer down, forgot it himself.
Solomon himself tells us in Proverbs 21:31 that "the horse is made ready for the day of battle." Then he adds what he later forgot completely: "but the victory belongs to the LORD."... Yet David wrote, before Solomon began to reign, "The war horse is a vain hope for salvation, and by its great might it cannot rescue" (Psalm 33:17)... In days of peril the LORD is worth more to His people than regiments of cavalry.
This scene is not only ancient history. The same mockery still meets the Christian, because the world cannot see where his strength comes from.
Christ dwells in you, and you in Him. That is what the world knows nothing about, and that is why the world is no match for a Christian. It does not know his resources. In fact, it will taunt him about them, just as 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 taunt is aimed at Hezekiah's trust in God, not only at his lack of riders. One writer says the right answer is not a reply at all.
The enemy was defying him and mocking him, and calling his trust in God into question. What should he do? Let the enemy talk, but himself hold his peace, 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!
- Bargain. The demand for "pledges" means a treaty. It is an offer of terms, dressed up as a gift to a cornered king.
- Bait. Two thousand horses appeal to greed; one unstoppable captain appeals to fear. The same speech works both ends of the human heart.
- Blend. The insult carries real truth inside it. That is why God's word must be the standard we test everything by.
- Blindness. The world counts riders because it knows nothing else to count. It cannot see a Christian's real resources, so it mocks what it cannot measure.
- Be still. Some taunts need no reply. Let the enemy talk, hold your peace, and trust the God he does not know.
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!
Outside Jerusalem's wall, the Assyrian field commander — the Rabshakeh — sneers that Judah could not turn back even the lowest officer in his master's army. Behind the mockery sits a real question: where did Judah's trust lie?
The taunt only works if Judah's hope is a foreign army. That is the one kind of help the Assyrian can picture.
Here the Assyrian's enormous pride shows itself. Hezekiah had lost his territory. He was shut up in Jerusalem like a bird in a cage. Could he resist the Assyrian's army? The last thought that occurs to the enemy is that someone may trust an invisible God. He never imagines that Hezekiah might live by other principles, and have other help than the world's. If he were trusting in someone, it must be in Egypt.
The jeer about one captain came with an offer of two thousand horses. Two pressures worked on the same crowd at once.
The Rabshakeh then offered a bribe of 2000 horses if Judah would pledge allegiance to the king of Assyria. He adds a warning: even with their trust in Egypt, they could not drive back one captain of the Assyrians. So he knew how to appeal both to their greed and to their fear.
The charge stings because it is not wholly false. Some in Judah were looking to Egypt for rescue.
Abuse like this was insolent, deceitful, and profane. Yet truth is mixed in with it, for there were some (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 enemy cleverly twists the king's own piety against him. Hezekiah's zeal for the Lord in tearing down the altars of false gods becomes a charge of robbing the Lord of His honour... What a mercy to have His word as a standard that is never wrong — one to test by, and to be tested by!
The Rabshakeh is right about Egypt. His judgment collapses the moment he turns it on the God of Israel.
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. "But if you say to me, We trust in the Lord our God" — now you see how the world's wisdom turns to folly the moment it comes near God. Wise enough about Egypt: that was plain. But the moment he thinks of God — foolishness.
The pull toward worldly help did not die with Judah. Any believer under pressure can feel it.
The tendency is enormous to meet a worldly trial in a worldly way. A person is apt to think that spiritual means cannot meet the world's efforts against him. So there is the danger of turning to earthly means as a way of escape... Be sure that if we do not feel the danger, it is because we are ourselves under the world's influence. God uses that feeling of danger — the dread in our own spirits, the fear that we might meet human strength with human strength — to make us look to Himself.
The Rabshakeh aimed his speech at Hezekiah's officials and at the men on the wall. It reached further than that.
The blasphemer taunted them by asking whether the Lord would deliver Jerusalem. Little did he think who was listening: not Eliakim, Shebna and Joah only, not only the men on the wall, but the Lord Himself. It was now His affair. And then at last the faith of Hezekiah begins to shine again, for his command was to answer the Assyrian not a word. The king tore his clothes, covered himself with sackcloth, went to the house of the Lord, and asked the prophet. Isaiah brought back the Lord's answer: they were not to fear these words of blasphemy, for the Lord would take up the matter and send the Assyrian back to perish in his own land.
- Assumption. The enemy can only imagine help he can count, so he assumes Egypt; trust in an invisible God never crosses his mind.
- Attack. He works both ends of the heart at once — a bribe of horses for their greed, a jeer about one captain for their fear.
- Accuracy. Some in Judah really were leaning on Egypt, and truth folded into slander is what gives the attack its bite.
- Absurdity. He reads Egypt right and God wrong. The world's wisdom holds up until it comes near God, then turns to folly.
- Answer. Hezekiah's order was to answer not a word. The One the taunt insulted had heard it, and He sent the Assyrian home to die.
And now am I come up without Jehovah against this land to destroy it? Jehovah said to me, Go up against this land and destroy it.
An enemy officer stands outside Jerusalem and claims that Israel's own God sent him to destroy the land. It is the most unsettling line in his speech, because he does not attack faith from outside — he borrows the name faith rests on.
Rabshakeh had already mocked Hezekiah's trust in Egypt. Now he goes further. He takes the king's own tearing down of the altars and turns it into a charge that God Himself had been robbed.
Insults, lies, and irreverence 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 all was to reduce the Jews to despair, and to serve the plans of Assyria. So the king's own godliness — his zeal for the LORD in tearing down the altars of false gods — is cleverly twisted into a charge of robbing the LORD of His honour. And it was from Him, the Assyrian pretended, that his master had received orders to come up against Hezekiah. The enemy knows how to give a religious coating to his own wicked plans as easily as he can blacken God's most faithful servants. What a mercy to have the flawless standard of His word to test and be tested by!
Who was the man making this claim? One account of his background explains both his Hebrew and his religious language.
Rabshakeh is a title. It means 'chief cup-bearer.' Sennacherib sent this officer to Jerusalem with the Tartan (general) and a Rab-saris (chief eunuch). He was the chief spokesman. Because he could speak the language of the Jews, some think he was either a convert or a Jew who had left his faith. If so, he may have known Isaiah 10:5-6, for he says, "Is it without the LORD that I have come up against this land to destroy it?"
Others treat the sentence as nothing but a lie, and read God's swift response as the verdict on it:
Terrible words, coming from such lips! It was falsehood and blasphemy, which Jehovah resented and speedily judged.
This was not his first move against Hezekiah's confidence. He had worked up to it, and he had a listener he never counted on.
First he takes the folly of trusting in Egypt, and there he was right. Second, that they had nothing to expect but the LORD's vengeance, since they had been destroying His altars. Third, that he had come up as the LORD's servant to carry out His will and execute His vengeance on Jerusalem. But it was not only Eliakim, Shebna and Joah who heard. It was the LORD. Rabshakeh never imagined that the Lord God was listening, and that the Lord God would answer quickly, for he had dared to use that name for deliberate blasphemy. He had defied the LORD's authority in the very place where it was known. He had dared God!
The tactic did not die with Assyria. People still claim God's backing for what they have already decided to do.
And now, it is the LORD who "said to me, Go up against this land and destroy it" (2 Kings 18:25). Did not the Assyrian have the right to speak about the Lord too, to say, "I have the same God as you, I know Him as well as you"? Are not these same expressions heard daily in the world today? War breaks out between two nations. Which one has God on its side? Both of them call upon His name, sure of the victory. Where is He, the true God? Sadly, even among Christian nations, He is on neither side. The true God is unknown to both.
Hezekiah gave no counter-argument. The order went out along the wall: say nothing.
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 proud words? In the silent dignity of faith. "The king's command was, 'Do not answer him.'" That was the king's bearing before the people, and it is always the bearing of faith — calm, self-controlled, dignified in front of man, while at the same time ready to sink into the dust of self-abasement before God.
The silence was not weakness. It left the case with the One whose name the Assyrian had misused — and He took it up.
Would the Lord deliver Jerusalem? Yes! Assyria soon found that the Lord who, 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, though He held back for a time as a test of Hezekiah's faith.
- Dressed up. The enemy gives his own plans a religious coating, twisting even Hezekiah's faithfulness into a charge against him.
- Mixed in. He blends truth with the lie to make it land. God's word is the standard that tests every such claim.
- Overheard. He aimed the speech at men on a wall. God Himself was in the audience.
- Repeated. Rival nations and religious men still say "God is on my side" while not knowing Him.
- Answered. Faith keeps silent before men and bows low before God. God takes up the case Himself and judges the boast.
And Eliakim and Shebna and Joah said to Rab-shakeh, Speak, we pray thee, to thy servants in Syriac, for we understand it; and speak not to us in the Jewish [language] in the ears of the people that are upon the wall.
Sennacherib's field commander stands outside Jerusalem's wall and shouts terms of surrender in Hebrew. Three of Hezekiah's officials ask him to switch to Aramaic, and their request hands the enemy an idea he had not yet used.
Aramaic was the speech of the great powers around Judah. Hebrew was the everyday speech of Jerusalem.
This word occurs 2 Kings 18:26; Ezra 4:7; and Isaiah 36:11, where it is translated "the Syrian language" or "tongue"... Aramaic is the language of Aram, and takes in the language of Chaldee 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 so that the uneducated might not understand what was said.
That gap did not last. One writer traces what happened to Hebrew after this:
Hebrew died out as a spoken language at, or soon after, the Babylonian captivity. The Syrian or Aramaic replaced it — the language of their conquerors, the Assyrians and Babylonians. This was the language in which Eliakim begged Rabshakeh to speak to the people in Jerusalem. The people did not understand it, though the chiefs themselves did.
Eliakim is named first of the three, and his name carries weight beyond this scene:
Eliakim must have held a high office; he is named before the scribe and the recorder. In Isaiah 22 God calls him His servant: Shebna was to be set aside, and Eliakim was to be clothed and raised up as governor. He was to have the key of David, and to open and shut with real effect. He is here a type of Christ when He comes to take His place over Israel.
They call themselves his servants and ask the enemy a favour. One commentator sees the weakness in that:
It is true the servants of Hezekiah were rather feeble. Nothing was to be won by pleading with 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 were afraid of the effect upon the Jewish people, so they begged him not to talk in the Jews' language where the people could hear.
The same writer names what Rabshakeh wanted, and what the plea gave him:
His object was to stir up rebellion among the people of Jerusalem and Judah... It suggested an idea. It gave him exactly 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 which they feared and asked him not to do gave him the idea of doing it.
Another commentator adds what the plea cost the people on the wall:
They should have realised their request was useless. It only encouraged the Rabshakeh to speak more loudly 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.
Another writer asks what Hezekiah should do while the enemy mocks him:
The enemy was defying and mocking Hezekiah, and questioning his trust in God. What should he do? Let the enemy talk, while he himself keeps quiet and looks humbly to 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 silence. His trust in God answers to everything.
Rabshakeh knew who stood in front of him. He did not know who else was listening:
Eliakim and the others pleaded with him to speak Aramaic rather than the Jewish tongue, and it only drew out further and bolder insolence... The blasphemer taunted them, asking whether the LORD would deliver Jerusalem. Little did he think who was listening: not Eliakim, Shebna, and Joah only, nor the men on the wall as well, but the LORD Himself. It was now His affair. And then at last the faith of Hezekiah begins to shine once more, for his own command was to give the man no answer.
- Languages. Aramaic was the diplomatic speech of the empires; Hebrew was Jerusalem's own tongue. The officials understood the first; the people on the wall did not.
- Fear. The request came from alarm, not strategy. They feared what the words would do to the crowd, so they asked a favour of an enemy.
- Backfire. Their fear handed Rabshakeh a weapon he had not thought of. The very thing they begged him not to do became his next move.
- Silence. Hezekiah's answer to the same danger was to give no answer at all. Trust in God replies to everything without saying a word.
- Listener. The taunt reached higher than the wall. Once the enemy challenged the LORD's name, the matter stopped being theirs and became His.
And Rab-shakeh said, 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?
Judah's officials had asked the Assyrian spokesman to speak Aramaic, so the crowd on the wall would not understand him. He refuses, and turns to those men with a crude picture of what a long siege would drive them to.
"Rabshakeh" is not a personal name. It marks the office of a senior Assyrian official. Yet this man spoke fluent Hebrew, which raises a question about who he was.
This is a title, meaning 'chief cup-bearer,' held by an officer whom Sennacherib sent to Jerusalem with the Tartan (general) and a Rab-saris. He was the chief spokesman. Because he could speak in the Jews' language, some think he was either a convert to the Jewish faith or a Jew who had turned away from it.
The officials spoke out of fear for their people. Their fear showed the enemy where they were weak.
It is true the servants of Hezekiah were rather feeble. Begging favour from 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. And what could that do? It could only draw a more forceful appeal from Rab-shakeh, and more boasting than ever… It suggested an idea. It gave him a new weapon, a new argument, a new ground of appeal 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 very thing they feared and asked him not to do gave him the idea of doing it.
The reply in this verse is not an argument. It is an insult, aimed past the officials at the crowd.
For the people's sake, Hezekiah's representatives had asked him to speak Aramean and not Hebrew. The common people did not understand Aramean. Rabshakeh then became very abusive and shouted a vulgar appeal to the people.
Behind the vulgarity there was a military calculation.
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 possession of 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."
By insisting on Hebrew, Rabshakeh widened his audience — further than he knew.
Eliakim and the others begged him to speak Aramean rather than the Jewish tongue. Their pleas only drew out more daring insolence. Rab-shakeh stood and shouted to the people on the walls in their own language… The blasphemer had no idea who was listening to his taunting demand — whether Jehovah would deliver Jerusalem. Not Eliakim, Shebna and Joah only, and not only the men on the wall, but Jehovah Himself. It was now His affair. Then at last the faith of Hezekiah begins to shine again, for it was he who gave the command not to answer.
The Assyrian's method is older than Assyria. One writer traces it back to Satan, and finds only one safe response.
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. Is it necessary to reason with him, to enter into argument, or even into conversation, or even to answer him? The first man and woman proved this 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 sweet words. The people trust the words of the king, their leader, and copy his faith.
- Fear talks. The officials' plea exposed the very weakness they wanted hidden. It handed the enemy his next move.
- No favours. Asking kindness from an opponent of God gains nothing. Expect none, and beg for none.
- Filth. Refused a private talk, Rabshakeh turned abusive. He shouted to frighten the ordinary people into giving in.
- Panic. The goal was rebellion inside the walls — a city taken by panic costs no siege.
- Silence. The listener he forgot was God Himself. The people obeyed their king and said nothing, so the insult became God's own to settle.
And Rab-shakeh stood and cried with a loud voice in the Jewish [language], and said, Hear the words of the great king, the king of Assyria!
Here the speech at the wall of Jerusalem turns. The Assyrian officer refuses to switch languages and shouts to the ordinary people in the language of Judah. His aim is to break a city's confidence in its king and in its God without firing a single arrow.
Hezekiah's officials had asked the Assyrian to speak Aramaic, so the people on the wall would not understand. That plea gave him an idea.
It is always well to remember that they are enemies. Ask no favours of them, and expect none. But these three men took fright. They feared the effect on the Jewish people, so they begged him not to talk in the Jews' language where the people could hear... His object was to stir up rebellion among the people of Jerusalem and Judah... It suggested an idea. It gave him exactly that: a new weapon, a new argument, a new ground of appeal 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.
He gives up on the negotiators and speaks straight to the crowd. He was not the only one listening.
Eliakim and the others begged him to speak Aramean rather than the Jewish tongue. That only drew out more bold insolence. Rabshakeh stood and cried in their own language to the people on the walls, warning them against their king... The blasphemer had no idea who was listening to his taunting demand — whether Jehovah would deliver Jerusalem. Not Eliakim, Shebna and Joah only, nor the men on the wall as well, but Jehovah Himself. It was now His affair.
He announces his master's title, then makes an offer meant to sound generous. One writer traces how the argument moves from attacking the king to painting captivity as comfort.
And now Rabshakeh attacks the person of the king. Hezekiah is a deceiver, a seducer. He is lying to you when he persuades you to trust in the Lord. Do not listen to Hezekiah. Listen to the king of Assyria. He will let you live in peace. Then he will carry you away to a land like your own: "a land of grain and wine, a land of bread and vineyards, a land of olive trees and of honey." It will be just as full of good things as the land of Canaan. No doubt you will be in bondage 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.
Rabshakeh's rage fastened on their trust. One writer sees the same attack made on the child of God.
Satan seeks first to get our thoughts off Christ. Then, with us so taken up with ourselves and our failings, he works to persuade us to make less and less profession of the blessed Lord we love. Faith he cannot destroy; whatever advantages he gets, the real child of God still trusts in Him. This enraged Rabshakeh to madness; he says, "On what do you rest this trust of yours?" (chapter 36:4).
Hezekiah had already ordered the people to say nothing. His conduct through the crisis yields two lessons.
Rabshakeh's rage is an exact picture of Satan's enmity. "Answer him not," was Hezekiah's command... When they read the wicked, unbelieving letter to the king, 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 a tested soul: "Answer him not," and "spread it before the Lord." Silence and prayer. When Satan throws out a flood of unbelieving questions, answer him not, but spread it all out before the Lord.
One writer places these chapters in the book's larger plan.
Isaiah 36–39 relate the history of Sennacherib's invasion and its result. They also relate the sickness to death of Hezekiah, which came before it. It is an instruction for the remnant on how to wait on the Lord. This deliverance is, in substance, a figure of the one that will take place with respect to the Assyrian in the last days.
- Fear invites. Asking the enemy for a favour gave him a weapon. Their plea to switch languages suggested the very public appeal they dreaded.
- Trust is the target. The shout goes past the negotiators to the crowd. It attacks the king first, then their trust in the Lord.
- The offer is bondage. Captivity comes dressed up as a land like their own. The master who promises happiness never gives it.
- Silence is the reply. Hezekiah ordered the people to answer him not. He himself spread the enemy's words before the Lord.
- God was listening. Jehovah Himself heard the taunt: could He deliver Jerusalem? The deliverance that followed is a figure of a greater one still to come.
Thus says the king Let not Hezekiah deceive you; for he will not be able to deliver you.
The Assyrian field commander has just refused to speak Aramaic, out of the people's hearing. He shouts up to Jerusalem in their own language, and his first blow strikes not the city's defences but the king's good name.
Hezekiah's officials had asked for a language the crowd could not follow. One writer says their plea handed him the idea.
These three men took fright. 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 but draw out from Rabshakeh a more violent appeal and more boasting than ever? … His object was to stir up rebellion among the people of Jerusalem and Judah. … It suggested an idea. It gave him just that: a new weapon, a new argument, a new ground of appeal 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 word "deceive" turns Hezekiah into the enemy, and the next words deny that he can rescue anyone. One writer answers the charge with what happened next.
Rabshakeh spoke to the men of Judah. He 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.
This was no blind shot. Rabshakeh picked his words for people whose loyalty to God was already split.
He appealed against Hezekiah to the citizens within hearing. He plainly knew how far they leaned toward 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.
Rabshakeh calls the king a liar, then makes his own offer. One writer hears in it a voice much older than Assyria.
Now Rabshakeh attacks the person of the king. Hezekiah is a deceiver, a seducer. He is lying to you when he persuades you to trust in the Lord. Do not listen to Hezekiah. Listen to the king of Assyria. 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, a land of olive trees and honey." It is a land just as full of good things as the land of Canaan. That is where you will find true abundance. 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.
The speaker counted his hearers as the three officials and the men on the wall. He had miscounted.
Little did the blasphemer think who was listening to his taunting demand — would the Lord deliver Jerusalem? It was not Eliakim, Shebna and Joah only, nor the men on the wall, but the Lord Himself. It was now His affair. And then at last the faith of Hezekiah begins to shine again. His command was to answer him not.
God had taken the insult as His own, so the city had nothing to argue. One writer draws two practical responses from Hezekiah's conduct.
"Answer him not," was Hezekiah's command. … The king heard the wicked unbelieving letter read out, then "went up to the house of the Lord and spread it before the Lord." These are two points of immense value to the tested soul, seen in Hezekiah's conduct during this fierce trial. "Answer him not," and "spread it before the Lord." Silence and prayer. When Satan throws out a flood of unbelieving questions, answer him not, but spread it all out before the Lord.
That silence is not weakness but composure, and it has a counterpart in private.
Such was the king's bearing in the eyes of the people. Indeed, such is always the bearing of faith: calm, self-possessed and dignified in front of other people. At the same time it is ready to sink into the very dust of self-abasement in the presence of God.
- Wedge. Their plea to speak Aramaic backfired. It handed Rabshakeh a new weapon: he shouted over the king's head to stir up the people.
- Lie. Calling Hezekiah a deceiver attacked the king's confidence that God would deliver. Assyria soon learned how wrong the charge was.
- Aim. He picked hearers who already leaned toward idols. To them, the failure of other cities' gods would carry weight.
- Bait. He offered a land as good as their own, with slavery folded into the deal. One writer hears in it a voice that has always spoken this way to men.
- Silence. The insult had become God's own affair. Faith answered with two things only: silence before men, and prayer that spread it all before the Lord.
Neither let Hezekiah make you rely upon Jehovah, saying, Jehovah will certainly deliver us; this city shall not be given into the hand of the king of Assyria.
Rabshakeh, the Assyrian commander, stands outside Jerusalem's wall. He aims his loudest words not at the gates but at the one thing holding the city together: the people's trust in God. Two questions follow. What does an enemy attack when he attacks faith, and how should faith answer?
These chapters break from prophecy into history, and that history sits here for a reason:
Isaiah 36-39 tell the history of Sennacherib's invasion and its outcome, and of the deadly illness of Hezekiah, which came before it. They teach the faithful remnant how to wait on the Lord. In substance, this rescue is a picture of what will happen with the Assyrian in the last days.
Rabshakeh turns from the city to the king himself. He calls Hezekiah a liar so that the people will stop listening to him:
Now Rabshakeh attacks the king himself. Hezekiah is a deceiver, a seducer (vv. 29, 32). He is lying to you when he talks you into trusting the Lord (v. 30). Do not listen to Hezekiah (vv. 31-32). Listen to the king of Assyria (v. 28)... Satan has always spoken like this to the hearts of men. It goes badly for anyone who listens to him, for the prince of this world never makes a man happy.
Not everything in the speech is false, and the lies wear a religious dress. Rabshakeh even turns Hezekiah's obedience to God into a charge against him:
Some truth is mixed in with all this rude, lying, godless abuse. 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 serve Assyria's plans. So the king's own godliness — his zeal for the Lord in pulling down the altars of false gods — is slyly twisted into a charge of robbing the Lord of His honour. And the Lord, he pretended, was the one who had ordered his master to march against Hezekiah. So the enemy knows how to put a religious coat on his own wicked schemes, as easily as he can blacken the most faithful of God's servants. What a mercy to have the sure standard of His word, to test by and to be tested by!
Rabshakeh aimed his words past the king, at the citizens who could hear him. He knew them well:
Rabshakeh also claimed, falsely, that the Lord had told the Assyrian king to destroy Jerusalem. Then he appealed over Hezekiah's head to the citizens who could hear him. He clearly knew how far they leaned towards idols, so unlike their king. Many of them were quietly trusting false gods instead of the Lord. So the reminder that the gods of many other cities had failed to rescue them was meant to weigh with them.
Rabshakeh sneered at the promise that the LORD would surely deliver. That claim was tested — and so was Hezekiah:
Speaking to the men of Judah, Rabshakeh accused Hezekiah of deceiving his own people by his confidence that the Lord would rescue them. Would the Lord rescue Jerusalem? Yes! Assyria soon found that the Lord, who they claimed had sent them against Jerusalem, was a God of awesome power and judgment. He would judge them for their lying claim to speak for Him. He held back His action for a time, to test Hezekiah's faith (2 Kings 19:35).
Hezekiah gave no answer at all. That silence was not weakness but the shape of faith under fire:
This really did put 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. So how does Hezekiah meet all these proud words? In the silent dignity of faith. "The king's command was, 'Do not answer him.'"... calm, self-possessed, dignified in front of people, and at the same time ready to sink into the very dust of self-abasement before God.
- Trust attacked. Rabshakeh's aim was not the wall but the trust behind it. He called the king a deceiver so the people would stop trusting God.
- Trust disguised. The attack wore a religious dress. Some truth was mixed in, and Rabshakeh twisted Hezekiah's obedience into a charge against him. God's word is the sure standard to test by.
- Trust targeted. He appealed past the king to the citizens who could hear, many of them quietly leaning on other gods.
- Trust silent. Faith answered him not a word. It kept its dignity before men and bowed in the dust before God. The furnace proved what it claimed.
- Trust answered. God kept the promise Rabshakeh mocked. The delay tested Hezekiah, and Assyria learned whose name it had misused.
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;
The Assyrian spokesman stands outside Jerusalem's wall with his most attractive offer yet. Surrender, and every home keeps its own vine, fig tree and water — but why does an invading army sound so generous?
The picture he paints was a real good, not an empty phrase. Start with the water:
These were widely used in Palestine for collecting rainwater. In Jerusalem every house has its cistern, and some have more than one… For every man to be able to drink water out of his own cistern was held out as a blessing. 2 Kings 18:31; Isaiah 36:16.
The vine and fig tree carry more than food. In Scripture they picture the peace God has promised His people:
In the Old Testament the phrase "under the fig tree" stands for the blessing of Israel in the kingdom. "But they shall sit every man under his vine and under his fig tree, and no one shall make them afraid, for the mouth of the LORD of hosts has spoken" (Micah 4:4; 1 Kings 4:25; Zechariah 3:10).
"Make your peace with me" has a price: a payment and submission. And the comfort has a time limit:
The Rabshakeh urged the people, "Do not listen to Hezekiah" (2 Kings 18:31). Instead, he wants them to listen to the king of Assyria. That king demanded a present from them to make peace, and wanted them to bow to his authority. Then for a time they could remain in their own places, eating each one from his own vine and his own fig tree, and drinking from his own cistern. But for how long? "Until I come and take you away to a land like your own land" (2 Kings 18:32). He was telling them they would be just as well off in his land as they would be in Jerusalem. If this was so, why take them away?
Threats had not worked, so the tone changes to kindness. One writer traces this tactic back to its source:
The Rabshakeh attacks the person of the king. Hezekiah is a deceiver, a seducer. He is lying to you when he urges you to trust in the LORD. Do not listen to Hezekiah. Listen to the king of Assyria. 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, a land of olive trees and honey" (2 Kings 18:32). It is a land just as full of good things as the land of Canaan. That is where you will find true abundance… 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 the one who listens to him, for the prince of this world never makes a man happy.
The appeal works because it denies that anything will really be lost. One writer draws out the logic and turns it on itself:
How appealing he makes this to all the people of Jerusalem! He tells them in effect, "Make the change I advise and you will really remain the same, because I will bring you to a land just the same as your own land." They might well ask, "Why change if we are to remain the same?"
What made the swap impossible was not the quality of the soil but the place God had chosen:
However, God had set His name in Jerusalem, where Solomon built the temple. This was God's centre on earth, of which 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" (Psalm 48:1-2). Were Hezekiah and the Jews to willingly leave that city and go to another land "like their own land"?
No one answered the offer. That silence was wisdom. Kelly notes who else was in the audience:
Rabshakeh stood and cried out in their own tongue to the people on the walls, warning them against their king and recommending to them the hard terms of deportation… He taunted them by asking whether the LORD would deliver Jerusalem. Little did the blasphemer think who was listening. Not only Eliakim, Shebna and Joah heard him, nor only the men on the wall, but the LORD Himself. It was now His affair.
That steadiness came down from the top:
If the ministers of the king were foolish, the people at least were wise. They were wise because the king was wise. The people kept silent. It was very provoking. It was exactly the moment when nature would have led them to cry out for the king… But no — "the people were silent and answered him not a word, for the king's command was, 'Do not answer him.'"
- Bait — the vine, the fig tree and the cistern are Scripture's own picture of God-given peace. The enemy borrows that language to sell his terms.
- Hook — the comfort lasts only "until I come and take you away"; the offer's own next sentence cancels it.
- Voice — first he smears the king, then he turns kind. The one who promises happiness in bondage never delivers it.
- Test — if the new land is just as good, why move at all? The issue is not the quality of the other land but the place God chose.
- Answer — the people did not argue. They kept silent under their king's order, and the insult became God's own business to settle.
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.
Rabshakeh, the Assyrian king's spokesman, is shouting surrender terms to the people on Jerusalem's wall. His closing offer is this verse: a new land as good as the one they lose — but is any land a substitute for the place God gave them?
Jerusalem heard this offer at a moment when its case looked lost.
Isaiah 36 sets out in detail the arguments the herald of the king of Assyria used to press the people of Jerusalem to surrender at once. We must remember that Samaria had fallen to the Assyrian power about eight years earlier. Later the fortified cities of Judah fell too. So humanly speaking, the position of Jerusalem was hopeless.
The promise of plenty carries an admission with it.
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, a land of olive trees and honey" (2 Kings 18:32). It is a land 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 bondage too, but the Assyrian will see that you are happy! Satan has always spoken this way 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 word "until" gives the offer away.
He wants them to listen to the king of Assyria, who demanded a payment from them to make peace and bow to his authority. Then for a time they could stay in their own places, each one eating from his own vine and his own fig tree, and drinking from his own cistern. But for how long? "Until I come and take you away to a land like your own land." He was telling them they would be just as well off in his land as they would be in Jerusalem. If this was so, why take them away? People may tell us we would be just as well off if we left the Assembly of God and went to a denomination. They speak as though a denomination was like God's assembly. Can we depend on the Lord or not? Rabshakeh urged them not to listen to Hezekiah's word that the Lord would deliver them. How many arguments there are to undermine faith!
One thing set Jerusalem apart from any land Assyria could offer.
However, God had set His name in Jerusalem where Solomon built the temple. This was God's centre on earth, of which 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, in the far north, the city of the great King" (Psalm 48:1-2). Were Hezekiah and the Jews to willingly abandon that city and go to another land "like their own land"?
The same writer names the source behind the offer:
So the Word of God gives no approval to the principle of "changing to remain the same." Rabshakeh's suggestion along this line came from Satan.
Rabshakeh shouted his terms in the people's own language. He miscounted his audience.
Rabshakeh stood and shouted in their own language to the people on the walls. He warned them against their king and pressed on them the harsh terms of deportation to the east, in view of the nations the Assyrian had already broken. The blasphemer little thought who was listening to his taunting question about whether Jehovah would deliver Jerusalem. Eliakim, Shebna and Joah heard it. The men on the wall heard it. But Jehovah Himself heard it too. It was now His affair. Then at last the faith of Hezekiah begins to shine again, and his command was to answer Rabshakeh not a word.
One writer reads these chapters as more than history.
Isaiah 36-39 relate the history of Sennacherib's invasion and its result. They also relate Hezekiah's sickness to the point of death, which came before it. It teaches the remnant of God's people how to wait on the Lord. And this deliverance is, in substance, a picture of the deliverance from the Assyrian that will take place in the last days.
- Offer: The enemy does not open with threats alone. He promises grain, wine, bread and vineyards — a land as good as the one you would be leaving.
- Catch: The same sentence admits the price. You would be carried away into bondage. The Assyrian only promises to keep you comfortable there.
- Flaw: If the other land is the same, there is no reason to move. The argument defeats itself the moment it is questioned.
- Difference: Jerusalem was not valuable for its produce but because God had set His name there. No substitute land, however well stocked, carries that.
- Answer: Not debate, but silence and trust. Hezekiah's order was to answer him nothing — and the boast God overheard became His own affair.
Let not Hezekiah persuade you, saying, Jehovah will deliver us. Has any of the gods of the nations delivered his land out of the hand of the king of Assyria?
Sennacherib, king of Assyria, has sent his spokesman — the Rabshakeh — to shout up at the wall of Jerusalem in the people's own language. Now comes his strongest card: a list of conquered nations whose gods saved nobody. Does the God of Israel belong on that list? The men on the wall must decide.
The taunt rests on a record of real victories. But it misses the one difference between Jerusalem and every city already fallen.
He tried hard to direct their minds away from the Lord to other things, such as the gods of the nations. Had any of them been able to deliver a nation from the hand of the king of Assyria? 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.
Notice who the warning targets. He is not arguing with Hezekiah. He is trying to pull the people away from their king, and he knew his audience well.
Then he appealed to the citizens within hearing, turning them against Hezekiah. He clearly knew how far they leaned toward idols, so unlike their king. Many of them were secretly trusting false gods instead of the Lord. So a 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 silent held, and they did not answer a word.
The speech left one hearer out of account. After this, the case is no longer Hezekiah's to answer.
The blasphemer never guessed who was listening to his taunting question about whether Jehovah would deliver Jerusalem. Not only Eliakim, Shebna and Joah, and not only the men on the wall, but Jehovah Himself. It was now His affair. And at last the faith of Hezekiah begins to shine again, for he had given the command to give the man no answer.
The attack now turns on the king himself: Hezekiah is lying to you. And the reply to that? Silence.
And now Rabshakeh attacks the person of the king. Hezekiah is a deceiver, a seducer. He is lying to you in persuading you to trust in the Lord. Do not listen to Hezekiah. Listen to the king of Assyria… 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. Is there any need to reason with him, to argue with him, to talk with him at all, or even to answer him? … It is only a matter of keeping silent and leaving the enemy to his threats or his sweet words.
Hezekiah does not dispute the list of conquests. He grants every one of them, then says why they happened.
Hezekiah puts the matter entirely into Jehovah's hands and steps out of it himself. He does not try to make light of the difficulty. He admits that "the kings of Assyria have laid waste all the nations and their lands." But why? Because their gods were not like Jehovah. Those nations 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!
The space Scripture gives to these events is out of proportion to one campaign, and commentators see a reason for that.
Hezekiah's life is told at length, because in his reign Sennacherib's attack on Jerusalem foreshadowed 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: to give a hint of what He will yet do for His own glory.
- Lumped — The taunt puts the God of Israel on a list with the gods of Hamath, Arpad and Sepharvaim — one more local god with a losing record.
- Targeted — The speech aims at the people, not the king. Many of them secretly trusted false gods, so a list of failed gods would bite.
- Overheard — The speaker forgot who else was listening. Once the insult was spoken aloud, the case passed from Hezekiah's hands into God's.
- Answered — Faith grants the facts and reads them another way. Those nations fell because their gods were not the living God.
- Silenced — The answer to a deceiver is no answer at all. And the rescue that follows previews a greater rescue still to come.
Where are the gods of Hamath and of Arpad? where are the gods of Sepharvaim? and have they delivered Samaria out of my hand?
Rabshakeh is the Assyrian officer shouting up at Jerusalem from outside the wall. He ends his speech with a list of ruined cities whose gods saved no one — and he counts the God of Israel among them.
The taunt only works if Israel's God is one god among many. That is how the Assyrian thought, and one commentator names the religion behind the mistake.
Rabshakeh could not distinguish between the idols and Jehovah. Jehovah to him was only an idol — one out of many idols. Since Hezekiah had broken down all the idols, he imagined that they were different forms of Jehovah's worship. That was the pagan idea of God.
Judah's own high places had handed the enemy his material.
But a very serious thing to consider is that 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. And now you are saying: As for us, we trust in the Lord! What Lord, may I ask?
Earlier in the same speech Rabshakeh had dismissed Egypt as a broken reed — and he was correct. His argument breaks down only at the point where God enters 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 very well how useless it was to trust Egypt. But he could not see the wisdom of trusting in Jehovah. Now you see how the world's wisdom becomes folly as soon as it comes near God.
Rabshakeh treats his list as proof that no god can stop Assyria. Another explanation fits the same facts.
Had any of them been able to deliver a nation from the hand of the king of Assyria? What of the gods of Hamath, Arpad, Sepharvaim, Hena and Ivvah? And what of Samaria? All of these had fallen into bondage to 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.
Samaria and Sepharvaim were already linked before Rabshakeh named them. Of Sepharvaim we read:
Assyria conquered this place, and sent people from it to settle in Samaria.
Rabshakeh's list is a record of Assyria's wins. Those wins taught Sennacherib nothing about the king inside this city.
He had met the kings of Hamath and Arpad, and so on; but when he did, it was on his own terms and in his own way. He had never faced an opponent like Hezekiah. In fact, one thing gave Hezekiah such unusual power in this contest: the sense that he was nothing. Human strength was no help at all. In a word, it was Jehovah or nothing.
Rabshakeh shouted in Hebrew so the men on the wall would hear him, over the heads of Hezekiah's three officials. His audience was larger than he counted.
The blasphemer taunted them, demanding to know whether Jehovah would deliver Jerusalem. Little did he think who was listening — not only Eliakim, Shebna and Joah, not only the men on the wall, but Jehovah Himself. It was now His affair. Then at last the faith of Hezekiah begins to shine again. Hezekiah had commanded that no one answer Rabshakeh.
Hezekiah's own prayer admits every fact on the list. It still refuses the conclusion:
Hezekiah puts the matter entirely into Jehovah'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 did they fall? Because their gods were not like Jehovah. They never knew what it was to put their case into the hands of the living God who made heaven and earth.
- The taunt — the question only makes sense if the God of Israel is one god among many. That is how Rabshakeh saw Him.
- The foothold — Judah's own high places taught the enemy to speak that way. Its unfaithfulness gave him his opening.
- The flaw — the world's wisdom can be right about Egypt. It turns to folly the moment it reasons about God.
- The hearer — the real listener to the challenge was not the men on the wall but God Himself, which made it His affair.
- The answer — the facts were true; the conclusion was false. Those nations fell because they never put their case into the hands of the living God.
Who are they among all the gods of these countries that have delivered their country out of my hand, that Jehovah should deliver Jerusalem out of my hand?
Rabshakeh, the spokesman of the Assyrian king, ends his speech by listing the LORD with the beaten gods of Hamath, Arpad and Sepharvaim. No god had stopped Assyria yet — but does Israel's God belong on that list, and who else was listening while he shouted?
The taunt rests on one assumption about the God of Israel. One writer explains where Rabshakeh got it, and how Hezekiah's removal of the idols fed the mistake:
Rabshakeh could not distinguish 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 that they were different forms of Jehovah's worship, because that was the pagan idea of God.
But what were those other gods? Another writer points to what Rabshakeh never saw:
He had little idea that the gods of the nations — including his own nation — were helpless idols. They were nothing compared with the God of Israel, who created all things.
The list of fallen cities was true. But it left out the one difference that mattered:
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? 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 did not aim his words only at Hezekiah's officials. He knew something about the crowd listening on the wall:
He appealed to the citizens within earshot against Hezekiah, for he clearly knew how ready they were to turn to 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 in their minds.
Rabshakeh aimed his question at Hezekiah's officials and the men on the wall. It reached further than that:
The blasphemer never stopped to think who was listening to his taunting question about whether Jehovah would deliver Jerusalem. Not only Eliakim, Shebna and Joah, and not only the men on the wall, but Jehovah Himself. It was now His affair. And then at last the faith of Hezekiah begins to shine once more, for it was his command that they should not answer him.
Rabshakeh asked his question as though no answer were possible. God answered it, though not at once:
Would the Lord deliver Jerusalem? Yes! Assyria very soon found out who the Lord really was. They had claimed that He sent them against Jerusalem. He is a God of awesome power and judgment, and He would judge them for their deceitful claim to represent Him. But for a time He held back His intervention, as a test of Hezekiah's faith.
God had used Assyria against other nations. What brought her down was blaspheming God Himself:
If Assyria had kept her hatred for the nations she conquered, she might not have fallen so soon. But she added 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 the way she had come. 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.
One writer reads Rabshakeh's tactic as a picture of how Satan attacks a believer under trial:
As Rabshakeh spoke of the nations around, so Satan points to this one and that; they once professed to be the servants of God, and where are they now? And you are no better, he says; you had better give up all profession of Christ and make a covenant with me. Do not answer him; get before God in prayer.
- The lie — Rabshakeh treats the LORD as one more national god. But every god on his list was a helpless idol, and the God of Israel created all things.
- The gap — Those nations fell because none of them depended on the only true God. Hezekiah did.
- The target — He aimed his words past the officials at the crowd on the wall, where many already trusted idols.
- The listener — The blasphemer thought he was speaking to officials and soldiers. The God he named was listening, and the matter became God's own.
- The answer — God used Assyria against other nations, but He turns back a nation puffed up with pride. Should the LORD deliver Jerusalem? Yes.
And they were silent, and answered him not a word; for the king's command was, saying, Answer him not.
Rabshakeh, the Assyrian commander, has just shouted over Jerusalem's wall in Hebrew, mocking Hezekiah, Egypt, and the Lord Himself. The king had ordered the people to give him nothing back — was that silence weakness, wisdom, or faith?
The pull to shout back was strong. Their restraint was not natural, and it had a source:
But now at last we find wisdom. If the ministers of the king were foolish, the people at least were wise, and the people were wise because the king was wise. The people held their peace. It was very provoking. This was the very time when nature would have led them to cry out for the king. They would have answered Rabshakeh's insults with the strongest and most vehement protests of their loyalty to Jehovah and to Hezekiah. But no: "they were silent and answered him not a word, for the king's command was, 'Do not answer him.'"
Rabshakeh had aimed at a real weak spot in the crowd:
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 weigh with them. Still Hezekiah's command to the men to keep silence prevailed, and they answered him not a word.
Sennacherib had used Hezekiah's own reforms against him. He even claimed the Lord had sent him. The king's answer to all that boasting was to forbid an answer:
How, then, does Hezekiah meet all these lofty words? In the silent dignity of faith. "The king's command was, 'Do not answer him.'" Such was the king's bearing in the eyes of the people. Or rather, such is always the bearing of faith — calm, self-possessed, and dignified in the presence of man. At the same time it is ready to sink into the very dust of self-abasement in the presence of God.
Rabshakeh had offered the people a comfortable exile — a land of grain and wine, as good as their own. The kind offer was as dangerous as the threats:
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. Is it necessary to reason with him, to argue with him, or even to talk with him or answer him? Our first parents proved it only too well, to their own ruin and the ruin of their descendants. The man of faith is not tempted to answer him... It is only a matter of keeping silent and leaving the enemy to his threats or to his honeyed words. The people trust the words of the king, their leader, and copy his faith. God uses this open attack of the Assyrian against God and against His anointed to strengthen and revive the people.
Staying quiet was only half of what Hezekiah did. When the Assyrian later sent a letter, the king carried it into the house of the Lord and spread it out before Him:
"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 sustain the soul but complete dependence on God.
Rabshakeh had dared the people to say whether the Lord could save Jerusalem. He counted his listeners — Hezekiah's officials and the crowd on the wall — and missed one:
The blasphemer taunted them with the demand: would Jehovah deliver Jerusalem? He little thought who was listening — not Eliakim, Shebna, and Joah only, nor the men on the wall also, but Jehovah Himself. It was now His affair. Then at last the faith of Hezekiah begins to shine once more, for the command not to answer him was his.
- Do not answer him — the silence was not nerves failing. It was obedience to the king's own order, kept even when the insults came in their own language.
- Wise king, wise people — the people were wise because the king was wise. They trusted their leader's word and copied his faith.
- Dignity, not defiance — faith stands calm and self-possessed in front of men. Before God it sinks into the very dust of self-abasement.
- No conversation with the enemy — threats and honeyed offers both call for the same answer: none. Arguing with the tempter ruined the first man and woman.
- Silence and prayer — say nothing to the enemy and spread the whole matter before God. The taunt insulted the Lord, so the case became His — and He used the attack to strengthen His people.
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.
The Assyrian spokesman Rabshakeh has finished shouting his threats at the wall of Jerusalem. The city gave him nothing back. Now three of Hezekiah's officials walk home with torn clothes to repeat every word to the king. The verse leaves one question open: what does a believer do when the insults are aimed at God?
The quiet of the people was not shock or weakness. It came down from the top, and one writer traces it to the king himself:
If the ministers of the king were foolish, the people at least were wise, and the people were wise because the king was wise. The people held their peace. It was very provoking. This was the moment when nature would have led them to cry out for the king. Nature would have made them answer Rabshakeh's insults with the strongest and most forceful declarations of their loyalty to the Lord and to Hezekiah. But no — "they were silent and answered him not a word, for the king's command was, 'Do not answer him.'"
The enemy comes with threats and with sweet words. The question is whether either deserves a reply:
Is it necessary to reason with him, to get into a dispute with him, or even to talk with him or answer him? 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... It is only a matter of keeping silent and leaving the enemy to his threats or to his sweet words. The people trust the words of the king, their leader, and imitate his faith. God uses this open attack of the Assyrian against God and against His anointed to strengthen and revive the people.
Rabshakeh aimed his words at the people on the wall. He never asked who else was listening:
The blasphemer taunted them, demanding to know whether the Lord would deliver Jerusalem. He never thought who was listening. It was not only Eliakim, Shebna and Joah, nor only the men on the wall, but the Lord Himself. It was now His affair; and then at last the faith of Hezekiah begins to shine once more, whose commandment it was not to answer him.
The three are Hezekiah's chief officials: Eliakim runs the palace, Shebna is the secretary, Joah keeps the records. Their torn clothes say something about the men themselves:
Eliakim, Shebna and Joah brought to Hezekiah the report of what the Rabshakeh had said. They did so in a spirit of self-judgment, with their clothes torn. It was not in bitter hostility, and not in any spirit of self-confidence. It was in the lowly humility that realised they had no power of their own. They were concerned instead that God Himself would intervene on their behalf.
The report reaches the king, and the king takes it to God. Two habits here make a pattern for anyone under attack:
"Do not answer him," was Hezekiah's command... When the wicked unbelieving letter was read to the king, 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." "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 sustain the soul but the most complete dependence on God.
Why does Scripture linger over this king? One writer looks past the events themselves:
Hezekiah's life is given at length. The reason is that in his reign Sennacherib's attack on Jerusalem foreshadowed 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. Through them He gives a hint of what He will yet do for His own glory.
- Command. The silence in front of Rabshakeh was obedience, not fear. The people were wise because their king was wise, and they copied his faith.
- Refusal. Faith does not argue with the enemy or even talk with him. It leaves him to his threats and his sweet words.
- Humility. The torn clothes are self-judgment, not fury — men owning that they had no power of their own and looking to God to act.
- Transfer. The report carried to the king becomes prayer carried to God: do not answer him, spread it before the Lord.
- Preview. Scripture tells the scene at length for a reason. Jerusalem's rescue from Assyria points forward to a greater deliverance God will yet work for His own glory.