2 Kings 1:1–18

1:3–4 While the king of God’s people is seeking out foreign gods, Yahweh himself intervenes through “the angel of the Lord,” who once again stirs Elijah into action (cf. 1 Kings 19:6–7). The prophet is here given his full title, “Elijah the Tishbite,” for emphasis (also in 1 Kings 17:1, when he first appears in the narrative), as he continues to leave and reenter the narrative with significant impact. As in 1 Kings 17:9 and 21:18, Elijah is told to “arise” and make his way to a crucial meeting, here with the “messengers of the king of Samaria.” The message he is to convey is blunt and to the point: “Is it because there is no God in Israel that you are going to inquire of Baal-zebub, the god of Ekron?” Gone is the duplicity of Ahaziah’s father, who at least in 1 Kings 22 maintained a semblance of Yahwism. The king of Israel is now an inveterate idolater, which is why God acts in judgment: “Now therefore thus says the Lord, You shall not come down from the bed to which you have gone up, but you shall surely die.” Elijah then leaves the messengers and withdraws.

What is God’s response to this desperate situation in Israel? He responds in exactly the same way he did back in 1 Kings 17–18: he sends for Elijah. There is a real sense of déjà vu in 2 Kings 1:3–4, as Elijah is introduced in the same way he was in 1 Kings 17:1 and commissioned in the same way he was in both 1 Kings 19 and 1 Kings 21, after Naboth and his sons were murdered. The whole episode has a ring of “here we go again.” There is a great deal of coming and going, and not coming and not going, in these chapters, but the only thing that really matters, the only person who really matters, is the one who brings the word of the Lord.

1:5–8 In verse 5 the narrator hits fast-forward, going straight to the messengers, who return to a rather puzzled Ahaziah. When the king’s messengers reappear without any sign of an oracle of any kind from anyone, Ahaziah is understandably confused. They sheepishly convey the details of their encounter with Elijah, emphasizing both the inevitability in all of this and the remarkable authority Elijah seems to have. After they have related their experiences in verse 6, Ahaziah’s suspicions are aroused, and he asks, “What kind of man was he who came to meet you and told you these things?” His worst fears are confirmed, as he discovers that “he wore a garment of hair, with a belt of leather about his waist.”² Whether from personal experience or simply from the ravings of his father, Ahaziah comes to the dawning realization that “it is Elijah the Tishbite.” Once again, the word of Yahweh has broken into the silence of Israel’s idolatry to direct events.

Yes, Israel may be in deep spiritual darkness. Yes, they are ignoring Yahweh. Yes, they are committed idolaters. This is reality. In fact, this is the basic reality for hundreds of years—as Jeremiah says to Judah:

They did not say, “Where is the Lord

who brought us up from the land of Egypt,

who led us in the wilderness,

in a land of deserts and pits,

in a land of drought and deep darkness,

in a land that none passes through,

where no man dwells?”

. . .

The priests did not say, “Where is the Lord?”

Those who handle the law did not know me;

the shepherds transgressed against me;

the prophets prophesied by Baal

and went after things that do not profit.

. . .

Has a nation changed its gods,

even though they are no gods?

But my people have changed their glory

for that which does not profit.

Be appalled, O heavens, at this;

be shocked, be utterly desolate,

declares the Lord,

for my people have committed two evils:

they have forsaken me,

the fountain of living waters,

and hewed out cisterns for themselves,

broken cisterns that can hold no water.

(Jer. 2:6, 8, 11–13)

The first readers in exile in Babylon cannot have found this searing condemnation of the people of God easy to read.

1:9–15 Now that Ahaziah is clear on the identity of this doomsayer, he springs into action. Presumably knowing Elijah’s past, “the king sent to him a captain of fifty men with his fifty.” This may seem like overkill, but the events of Mount Carmel in 1 Kings 18 make such precautions necessary when dealing with dangerous prophets. The soldier approaches Elijah, who rather ominously is “sitting on the top of [the] hill” (surely suggesting Carmel), and commands him to come down in the name of the king: “O man of God, the king says, ‘Come down.’” The theological issue at stake is the authority of the king over against the authority of Yahweh. Elijah’s response is both instant and shocking: “‘If I am a man of God, let fire come down from heaven and consume you and your fifty.’ Then fire came down from heaven and consumed him and his fifty.” In the context of this chapter, these men are caught up in the conflict between Ahaziah and Yahweh. While it does not remove our discomfort completely, the writer clearly views them as combatants in a war against God.³ This is a rerun of the events on Mount Carmel.

The pattern is replicated in the second mission to take Elijah, and the outcome is identical (2 Kings 1:11–12). The kings—and people—of Israel have been consistently slow to learn their lesson, and this chapter is no exception.

It is only when the third commander is dispatched that we see any departure from the pattern. Perhaps understandably, this commander “went up and came and fell on his knees before Elijah and entreated him, ‘O man of God, please let my life, and the life of these fifty servants of yours, be precious in your sight.’” This time, there is no repetition of the command of the king but simply an awareness that the prophet (and, by extension, Yahweh his God) needs to be treated with respect. “Behold, fire came down from heaven and consumed the two former captains of fifty men with their fifties, but now let my life be precious in your sight.” There is no explicit confession of faith here, but that is not the point. The issue is simply willingness to submit rather than to command, so “the angel of the Lord,” who seems to be directing affairs explicitly in this chapter, “said to Elijah, ‘Go down with him; do not be afraid of him.’ So he arose and went down with him to the king.” Elijah’s obedience is unquestioning. Ahaziah’s refusal to listen to Yahweh is unshakable.

This is a sad commentary on the spiritual state of the nation. As generation succeeds generation, no sign is seen of any improvement in the life of the people of God. Rather, they repeat the sins of their fathers, which in this case leads God to act in a manner (two and a half times!) strongly reminiscent of the events on Mount Carmel in 1 Kings 18. The king attempts to speak as God and orders Elijah to come down (from Carmel?), but all that comes down is fire from heaven. Ahaziah is obviously a slow learner—or, more likely, is so bent on evil that he pursues it again. And again. He and his men, like Israel, seem to grow more and more rebellious, until one of them finally sees some sense.

There is a tragic irony here. Ahaziah does get the oracle he is looking for. In his view, it comes from the wrong God and with the wrong message. And the result? As we will see in 2 Kings 1:17, he dies “according to the word of the Lord.” The book of Kings is gloriously unsubtle! Ahaziah leads the nation up the garden path of the fertility god. God intervenes awe-fully, and dramatically, and decisively, with stunning pyrotechnics and then a simple word.

1:16–18 The final scene is extremely abrupt, which adds to its shock value. Elijah, now that he has come down from the hilltop, says simply: “Thus says the Lord, ‘Because you have sent messengers to inquire of Baal-zebub, the god of Ekron—is it because there is no God in Israel to inquire of his word?—therefore you shall not come down from the bed to which you have gone up, but you shall surely die.’” This kind of idolatry brings down the full force of the curse of the covenant instantly. The matter of fact statement on verse 17 underlines that 2 Kings is picking up precisely where 1 Kings left off: “So he died according to the word of the Lord that Elijah had spoken.”

At this point, the narrative becomes extremely confusing, because we end up with two identically named kings ruling in Israel and Judah: Ahaziah’s brother “Jehoram became king in his place in the second year of Jehoram the son of Jehoshaphat, king of Judah, because Ahaziah had no son.”⁴ It is hard to escape the conclusion that the alliance between Jehoshaphat and Ahab has, in large measure, contributed to a sense that the two halves of God’s people are indistinguishable. There are some loose ends at the end of this chapter—the dynasty has not yet been brought to a bloody end, and there is still a son of Ahab on the throne—but there is a growing sense that God’s judgment on this regime is not only inevitable but fast approaching.