1 Kings 15:1–16:34

15:3 Abijam is rapidly dismissed on the basis that he “walked in all the sins that his father did before him,” and also that “his heart was not wholly true to the Lord his God, as the heart of David his father.” The fact that the verdict is stereotyped hardly diminishes its impact. Rehoboam, it seems, was not a momentary aberration. Even after one generation, the spiritual state of the leader and the nation is already going downhill.

15:4–5 In a surprising note of grace, however, “God gave [Abijam] a lamp in Jerusalem, setting up his son after him.” The image of the “lamp” picks up on 11:36 (and is repeated in 2 Kings 8:19; see also Ps. 132:17). Even in the darkness, God ensures that the light of his 2 Samuel 7 promise is not extinguished. He continues to ensure that his king rules in his city, “establishing Jerusalem.” It is made explicit that Yahweh does this “for David’s sake.”

What was it about David that set him apart? It was the fact that “David did what was right in the eyes of the Lord and did not turn aside from anything that he commanded him all the days of his life.” David’s reign is characterized as one that pleased God, which means doing what he commands. This is intended as a statement of the general tone of David’s reign rather than a blow-by-blow assessment of his moral record, which is made clear by the qualification “except in the matter of Uriah the Hittite” (cf. 2 Samuel 11), the husband of Bathsheba, whose death David engineered in an attempt to mask his adultery.

At times, then, David is held up as the kind of king God is looking for. David is the standard for all future kings because, at his best, David provides a picture of what the ultimate king, the real Messiah, will be like. David was the closest God’s people ever got to a Deuteronomy 17 kind of king. He was a king who made godly decisions and ruled according to God’s agenda. Yes, his personal life was not blemish free, but as a king he was as good as it got. Thus Israel was to look for a king like David. David himself is the greatest encouragement to hold out for the real deal, for a king who can pull off what David himself could not—not a life of trust with a few spectacular blemishes but a completely flawless life. Not an approximation of integrity but the real thing.

At other times, however, David is held up as a model of faith; in particular, as a man who looked to God to come through on his promises, especially his promise of the ultimate Davidic King. In that, David is also the model believer, one who trusted God with his future. Both of these ideas are contained in these verses. At his royal best, David is a picture of the Messiah; at his trusting best, David is a picture of a true believer. He is both a model king and one who looks forward to the coming (Davidic) King. The little phrase “God gave him a lamp in Jerusalem” shows how God helps his people to keep living for him through the dark years until Jesus Christ the Messiah shows up.

Abijam may have a scary, idolatrous mother who stays around for a long time (more of her in a minute). He may be a fairly pathetic imitation of his great-grandfather, who was far from perfect himself. But as far as God was concerned, this fairly unimpressive specimen is a “lamp.” He is a reminder that God himself is with his people, that God himself has promised to send a king like David, only better than David; the presence of a Davidic king on the throne—even a hopeless one like Abijam—should be more than enough to reinforce the message that God is with his people and is committed to rescuing his people. In Jerusalem the presence of the king reinforces the message of the temple: God is with us. Even for readers in exile, the fact that the Davidic dynasty goes on (cf. 2 Kings 25:27–30) is enough to give the people hope. The promise is still alive. God has not abandoned his people. God will act for the sake of David and all those who, like him, trust in the promises of Yahweh.

15:6–8 The note that “there was war between Rehoboam and Jeroboam all the days of his life” has the effect of underlining the tragedy of life under God’s judgment (cf. 11:32–39). The fact that Rehoboam is referenced may be the result of a period of co-regency or may be intended to highlight that the reign of father and son are almost indistinguishable in their destructive foolishness. No account is given of the death of this ungodly and basically insignificant king. Any more information could be gleaned from the long-lost “Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Judah.” Rehoboam, Abijam, and Jeroboam are ungodly and attacking each other. Already it is clear that the work of God through his people is hanging by a thread of pure grace.

15:9–10 Some relief is provided by the introduction of King Asa, who is a godly, reforming king. His origins are a little uncertain. As with Abijam, his father, “his mother’s name was Maacah the daughter of Abishalom.” “Mother” may on occasion be used in a way broader than a reference to a literal birth mother (cf. Gen. 37:10, referring to Joseph’s stepmother; and even Gen. 3:20, where Eve is designated the “mother of all living”). In this case it may mean “grandmother,” or, alternatively, Asa may be the product of an incestuous relationship. Unusually (for a southern king), there is no mention of Asa’s age.³

15:11 For the first time a king of Judah (or Israel) is commended for following the example of his forefather David.

15:12–13 Asa’s godliness is reflected in his determination to rid Judah of “male cult prostitutes” (cf. 14:24) and the “idols that his fathers had made.” The word for idols (Hb. gill ulim) is literally “lumps of dung.” In addition, he strips his mother/grandmother of her position (perhaps, but not necessarily, that of “queen mother”) because of her idolatry: “She had made an abominable image for Asherah.” The Solomonic tendency toward Asherah worship continues to resurface in the life of his family. However, Asa takes decisive action: he “cut down her image and burned it at the brook Kidron.” The Kidron is the site of several key incidents in the history of Israel, making it a fitting place to return to Yahweh.

15:14 Despite the positive steps taken, Asa falls short of the divinely prescribed ideal: “But the high places were not taken away [lit., “did not depart”].” It seems that even though Asa deals with gross idolatry in Jerusalem, he fails to eradicate the general culture of deviant worship throughout Judah.

A similar comment is made of Jehoshaphat (1 Kings 22:43), Jehoash (2 Kings 12:3), Amaziah (2 Kings 14:4), Azariah (2 Kings 15:4), and Jotham (2 Kings 15:35); the only kings who deal with these high places are Hezekiah (2 Kings 18:4) and Josiah (2 Kings 23). However, the overall verdict on the life of Asa is that his heart is “wholly true to the Lord all his days.” As with the assessment of David himself in verses 4–5, this does not imply that he is sinless but simply affirms that the direction of his life is consistently godly. The general trajectory of his life is undeniably positive, and yet it quickly becomes apparent that, as with even the best of the kings of God’s people, he ultimately comes up short of God’s ideal.

15:15–22 The incidents that follow revolve around the contents of the temple. In many ways, the temple utensils provide an index of the spiritual state of Judah, particularly her leader. Unlike with Rehoboam’s defeat in 14:26, Asa starts well by bringing “into the house of the Lord the sacred gifts of his father and his own sacred gifts, silver, and gold, and vessels.” This is the model situation: God gives riches that are then brought back to him as offerings. The word for “sacred gifts” is also very similar to that for “male cult prostitutes” in verse 12, making the contrast clear: the prostitutes are replaced by gifts of silver and gold.

However, when there is continual “war between Asa and Baasha king of Israel,” things take a turn for the worse, as Baasha blocks the main road to Jerusalem by building a fortification at Ramah, a mere 5 miles (8 km) north of Jerusalem. Asa responds by using the treasures previously donated to the temple (as well as his own personal wealth) to bribe the Syrian king, Ben-hadad (many Syrian kings were known by this dynastic name): “Then Asa took all the silver and the gold that were left in the treasures of the house of the Lord and the treasures of the king’s house and gave them into the hands of his servants.” In short, Asa’s response to this new threat is to raid the piggy bank. Unfortunately, it is not his piggy bank. Using Yahweh’s money to solve his problems is not a smart move—cashing in the gold in the temple never ends well for God’s people. So when “King Asa sent them to Ben-hadad the son of Tabrimmon, the son of Hezion, king of Syria, who lived in Damascus,” the treasures of Yahweh are now in the hands of a foreign king.

To make matters worse, Asa says, “Let there be a covenant between me and you, as there was between my father and your father. Behold, I am sending to you a present of silver and gold. Go, break your covenant with Baasha king of Israel, that he may withdraw from me.” Nothing is known of the previous arrangement mentioned here, but there is no reason to doubt its historicity. What is more important in the flow of the narrative is that we now have one of the better Davidic kings acting against his renegade brothers in the north by making an alliance with a pagan king instead of calling out to the Lord for help. While this may get Asa the end result he wants, he clearly looks to the wrong place, with ongoing negative consequences (as Chronicles makes clear; cf. 2 Chron. 16:7–9).

The initiative of Asa leads to a Syrian incursion into Israel, and Ben-hadad “conquered Ijon, Dan, Abel-beth-maacah, and all Chinneroth, with all the land of Naphtali.” Rather than Abrahamic blessing flowing through the king of Judah, his actions (particularly his failure to trust God) are responsible for bloodshed, defeat, and loss of part of the Promised Land. This is a dry run for the Assyrian destruction of the north (cf. 2 Kings 15:29). Asa’s strategy does, however, lead to the withdrawal of Baasha, who moves his base from Ramah to Tirzah (cf. Josh. 12:24). According to 1 Kings 14:17, Tirzah was Jeroboam’s city, 7 miles (11 km) northeast of Shechem and commanding a major trade route. This withdrawal signals a reduction of the threat to Asa’s northern border.

Asa then ensures there is no possibility of Baasha’s making another attempt to destabilize Judah, making “a proclamation to all Judah” that leads to the removal of the “stones of Ramah and its timber, with which Baasha had been building.” These raw materials are then used to build “Geba of Benjamin and Mizpah.” These cities are just to the north of Jerusalem and function as sentry posts along the northern border of Benjamin.

15:23–24 The usual concluding formula includes the additional elements “all his might, . . . and the cities that he built.” Asa is presumably particularly strong, and under his rule he strengthens Judah’s infrastructure. However, “in his old age he was diseased in his feet.” There is no suggestion that this is the judgment of God. “Feet” here may be a euphemism for the male sexual organs or may simply mean feet! This is just another example of an OT narrator’s slipping in a scene in the wake of a powerful act of God to display the fact that even the best of us are subject to the fall. After God refashions the world, Noah gets drunk and cannot even dress himself (Genesis 9). After receiving extravagant covenant promises from God, Abram tries to pass off his wife as unmarried (Genesis 12). Gideon defeats the Midianites in the power of God and resists the people’s attempts to make him king but then leads them into idolatry (Judg. 8:22–28). Even the best of us has feet of clay. Asa is a good king (1 Kings 15:23–24), but he is not perfect. This prepares the way for much of what we will see in the rest of 1–2 Kings.

15:25–26 The focus now shifts from the southern kingdom of Judah to the ten tribes of Israel in the north, where we will stay until the end of this book. And it is bad news all the way—at least from God’s point of view. And that is the only point of view that really matters. The litany of kings of Israel from 1 Kings 15:25 onward is basically a complete picture of evil—and it comes in a large range of shapes and sizes.

The short reign of Nadab the son of Jeroboam turns out to be the template for future kings of Israel: they will all walk in the evil ways of Jeroboam. “Nadab the son of Jeroboam began to reign over Israel in the second year of Asa king of Judah, and he reigned over Israel two years. He did what was evil in the sight of the Lord and walked in the way of his father, and in his sin which he made Israel to sin.” This is all terribly predictable—there is nothing here the least bit surprising. As his father specialized in evil, so does Nadab. He is a chip off the old block, as will be the kings in Israel who follow, and the pattern of leaders’ causing the nation to sin will be coupled with repeated stories of insurrection and bloodshed.

15:27–28 Having deposed the house of David, Israel lurches from one ruler to the next. In this case, Nadab is killed during a military campaign against the Philistines. The account of Nadab’s demise is matter-of-fact: “So Baasha killed him in the third year of Asa king of Judah and reigned in his place.”

15:29–30 Baasha’s first act is to secure his own rule: “And as soon as he was king, he killed all the house of Jeroboam.” However, from the point of view of the writer, this is not simply political expediency. Baasha’s ruthless efficiency (“He left to the house of Jeroboam not one that breathed”) is caught up in the divine fulfillment of “the word of the Lord that he spoke by his servant Ahijah the Shilonite” (cf. 14:7–11). That the sins of Jeroboam have such drastic consequences provides a strong hint of the fate awaiting the nation as a whole, which from the perspective of the exile has already faced “the anger to which [Jeroboam] provoked the Lord, the God of Israel.”

As all of this evil rolls out and the sordid story of the northern kingdom unfolds, one note continues to sound. As Baasha deals with Nadab and his offspring, 15:29 announces that he acts “according to the word of the Lord.” The same note is sounded in 16:1, 7, 12, 34. This narrative is driven both by human evil, described in such detail, and by the word of Yahweh, announcing the deserved judgment. Jeroboam’s crimes are clear: “It was for the sins of Jeroboam that he sinned and that he made Israel to sin, and because of the anger to which he provoked the Lord, the God of Israel.” The judgment is indeed deserved. But God also holds Baasha accountable, both for the way in which he destroys Jeroboam’s house and for repeating Jeroboam’s idolatrous mistakes (and thus becoming a true spiritual son of Jeroboam himself):

The word of the Lord came by the prophet Jehu the son of Hanani against Baasha and his house, both because of all the evil that he did in the sight of the Lord, provoking him to anger with the work of his hands, in being like the house of Jeroboam, and also because he destroyed it. (16:7)

The avenger is guilty of—and judged for—the same sins Yahweh commands him to avenge.

15:31–32 An expected reference to the Israelite version of the Judahite chronicle we have already seen (cf. 14:19–20) is coupled with the note that “there was war between Asa and Baasha king of Israel all their days” (cf. 15:16). This statement is repeated here to underline the hostility between the legitimate Davidic king and this series of usurpers.

15:33–34 The complex events surrounding Baasha’s conflict with Asa have already been described, and for the sake of simplicity his twenty-four-year reign is described as being based “at Tirzah.” And the verdict? Surely he will learn from the mistakes of the one he has just skewered and will lead the people back to Yahweh? Perhaps not: “He did what was evil in the sight of the Lord and walked in the way of Jeroboam and in his sin which he made Israel to sin.”

16:5–7 The summary of Baasha’s reign picks up on the monotonous rhythm of failure in the eyes of Yahweh, as yet another Israelite king (Elah) steps onto the stage. The note of verse 7 underlines how God continues to work through his word, even in the chaos of idolatrous Israel, as he brings his judgment to bear on the mounting evil:

The word of the Lord came by the prophet Jehu the son of Hanani against Baasha and his house, both because of all the evil that he did in the sight of the Lord, provoking him to anger with the work of his hands, in being like the house of Jeroboam, and also because he destroyed it.

Even though Baasha acts in fulfillment of Ahijah’s prophecy in 14:7–11, he is held accountable for his actions. This is a striking biblical theme. As Sennacherib (2 Kings 19:20–28) and many others will discover, being used by God and being judged by God for one’s actions are not mutually incompatible.

16:8 The long but ultimately insignificant reign of Baasha is followed by the short and even less significant two-year incumbency of his son Elah, who can lay claim to being one of the most forgettable kings in the history of God’s people (surpassed only by his nemesis Zimri, as we shall see!).

16:9–10 Baasha may have come from the dust, but his son is brought down by “his servant Zimri” as Israel spirals into virtual anarchy. This military coup takes place in circumstances highlighting the dissolute nature of Elah’s regime: “When he was at Tirzah, drinking himself drunk in the house of Arza, who was over the household in Tirzah, Zimri came in and struck him down and killed him.” Rather than leading the people, Elah is getting drunk at the house of one of his civil servants, presumably having left any bodyguards behind at the palace. The departure from God’s ideal for the rulers of his people is staggering! Elah manages to make even Nadab look good—at least Nadab was assassinated during a military campaign, rather than during a drinking session. The text sighs with disappointment. In the words of Ecclesiastes 10:16–17: “Woe to you, O land, when your king is a child, and your princes feast in the morning! Happy are you, O land, when your king is the son of the nobility, and your princes feast at the proper time, for strength, and not for drunkenness!” Surely the king of God’s people should do better than this?

16:11–14 In what has become a predictable pattern, Zimri “struck down all the house of Baasha.” There is also an escalation in the brutality, as Zimri “did not leave him a single male of his relatives or his friends.” As in 14:10, the colorful expression for “male” (lit., “one who urinates against a wall”) underscores the moral quality of the dynasty. The mounting rebellion against God is countered “according to the word of the Lord.” The sins of Israel are now beginning to pile up, as the consequences of “all the sins of Baasha and the sins of Elah his son, which they sinned and which they made Israel to sin, provoking the Lord God of Israel to anger with their idols,” come home to roost. The word for “idols” here is the plural form of “breath” (hebel; cf. Eccles. 1:2; Deut. 32:21; also 2 Kings 17:15), carrying the sense of “nothings” or “nonentities.” The summary of Elah’s reign in 1 Kings 16:14, unlike that of his father’s in verse 7, omits any reference to his “might.” This king is weak, and his reign comes and goes.

16:15–16 Zimri’s actions turn out not to have popular support among his troops (lit., “the people,” but clearly used of the army here). Asa’s long reign may be continuing in Judah, but these are turbulent times in the north: “Zimri reigned seven days in Tirzah.” Even as the army is “encamped against Gibbethon, which belonged to the Philistines”—which may well suggest a growing instability on the borders of Israel (see also 15:27)—disquiet grows. The usurper is now spectacularly usurped: “All Israel made Omri, the commander of the army, king over Israel that day in the camp.” No details are supplied concerning this new king. The fact that no mention is made of either his parentage or his tribe suggests that Omri’s reign will be no more significant in the eyes of Yahweh than his predecessors’ reigns.

16:17–20 The final outcome of these events is unspeakably tragic. Omri advances on Tirzah, where Zimri is holed up—not drinking but quaking. Before he can be taken, he ends his own life: “When Zimri saw that the city was taken, he went into the citadel of the king’s house and burned the king’s house over him with fire and died.” Zimri rules for one week. But it is more than enough to show his true colors. The spiritual downturn in Israel is dramatic. The book of Kings began with Solomon building houses; now Zimri burns the king’s house and puts an end to his own short-lived dynasty. The verdict on his seven-day reign, however, makes the point that Israel’s kings, however long they reign, are cut from the same spiritual cloth: he dies “because of his sins that he committed, doing evil in the sight of the Lord, walking in the way of Jeroboam, and for his sin which he committed, making Israel to sin.” Fittingly, the account of his reign in verse 20 highlights not his power but his treachery (cf. 15:27; 16:9, 16).

16:21–22 The litany of division and conflict among the people of the northern kingdom continues in the wake of Zimri’s death. Rather than uniting the nation under Omri, the demise of the short-lived king leads to further division in the divided people of God: “Then the people of Israel were divided into two parts.” A civil war ensues, which, judging from verses 15 and 23, must last several years, although scant detail is given. The lack of biographical data on Omri is almost matched by that of “Tibni the son of Ginath,” about whom we know nothing other than the minimalist account of his defeat and ensuing death, as “the people who followed Omri overcame the people who followed Tibni the son of Ginath. So Tibni died, and Omri became king.” In political terms Omri may well be the most significant ruler Israel ever has.⁴ However, the suppression of almost every detail from this account makes it abundantly clear that Yahweh is not impressed by his success.

16:23–24 Omri’s relatively long reign (“he reigned for twelve years”) brings not only national stability but also a new capital for Israel. Omri is mentioned on the Mesha Stele (also known as the Moabite Stone), which is now in the Louvre in Paris.⁵ It records how his military might troubled Moab over an extended period. In fact, the Assyrian annals call Israel the “land of Omri” even 150 years after his death. Humanly speaking, his reign is probably more impressive than any Israelite king’s other than Solomon’s. He secures a site at an appropriate price (“he bought the hill of Samaria from Shemer for two talents of silver”) and then establishes the city of “Samaria, after the name of Shemer, the owner of the hill.” Davies argues that the name “Shemer” means “dregs,” which is presumably a pejorative corruption of another name in order to make the point that an ungodly king has established an ungodly capital.⁶

16:25–27 The gathering gloom in Israel becomes obvious in the statement that Omri “did more evil than all who were before him.” The pattern is now deeply rooted in Israelite society, as a succession of kings has, like Omri, “walked in all the way of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, and in the sins that he made Israel to sin, provoking the Lord, the God of Israel, to anger by their idols.” Omri’s achievements (“the acts of Omri that he did, and the might that he showed”) may have made it into the “Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Israel” and onto the Mesha Stele, but they are of no weight here. Unlike his predecessors, Omri does manage to found a dynasty, and after he “was buried in Samaria, . . . Ahab his son reigned in his place.”

16:29–30 Ahab, whose rule will occupy most of the rest of 1 Kings, “reigned over Israel in Samaria twenty-two years.” He continues to lead the nation on the same trajectory that his father followed: “And Ahab the son of Omri did evil in the sight of the Lord, more than all who were before him” (to make the point, Ahab is described as the “son of Omri” three times). The downward spiral of the northern kingdom continues to gather pace.

16:31–33 Up to this point, the descriptions of idolatry in Israel (and the specific role of the king in this idolatry) have been vague and general. Now the writer highlights the specific sins of Ahab. Four particular actions provoke the wrath of Yahweh. (1) Ahab marries a foreign wife: “As if it had been a light thing for him to walk in the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, he took for his wife Jezebel the daughter of Ethbaal king of the Sidonians.” This marriage suggests an Israelite-Phoenician alliance, particularly dangerous because of the Phoenicians’ idolatrous practices. Indeed, Jezebel’s father’s name (“Ethbaal”) means “Baal exists” or “Baal be with him.”⁷ (2) Ahab “went and served Baal and worshiped him.” Presumably inspired by his wife (who grew up in a Baal-worshiping home), Ahab embraces the Canaanite storm/fertility/agriculture god. (3) Ahab enshrines Baal worship at the heart of the nation, as he erects “an altar for Baal in the house of Baal, which he built in Samaria.” (4) Ahab also makes an Asherah (cf. 14:15). The conclusion of all of this is that clearly “Ahab did more to provoke the Lord, the God of Israel, to anger than all the kings of Israel who were before him.” One can sense the narrative building to a climax, a sense strengthened by the final comment in this section. Ahab is the worst king Israel ever has. He deliberately chooses an idolatrous wife. More than that, he becomes an enthusiastic idolater himself. Then he becomes the sponsor of state idolatry. It does not get any worse than this.

16:34 This is confirmed by the unexpected note in verse 34. During the reign of Ahab, “Hiel of Bethel built Jericho,” presumably with Ahab’s permission. The problem with this decision is that it was made clear by the Lord’s prohibition after the conquest of Jericho that the area should never be resettled (Josh. 6:26). But for Ahab, God’s word counts for nothing. This is defiance, and it comes with the judgment God had earlier announced, as Hiel “laid its foundation at the cost of Abiram his firstborn, and set up its gates at the cost of his youngest son Segub.” The most natural way of reading the text is that Hiel’s building project leads somehow to the deaths of two of his sons (cf. Josh. 6:26). It is possible that child sacrifice is involved, but given the fact that this happens “according to the word of the Lord, which he spoke by Joshua the son of Nun,” it seems more likely that these deaths are presented as a consequence of the rebellious actions of Hiel, who finds out that, sooner or later, defiance against God comes at a terrible cost. The word of Yahweh can be neither ignored nor defeated, even though Israel is becoming progressively more Canaanite.

Each bad king appears to give way to a worse one, leading up to the worst of them all, the idol-worshiping, pagan-marrying, God-defying Ahab.