Final Reflections of 1–2 Kings

The greatest challenge in reading, interpreting, and preaching the book of Kings is coping with the sheer scope of the narrative. Arguably, no other book (apart, obviously, from Chronicles) covers such an enormous timescale, introduces such a range of characters, and yet is so focused on bringing the word of God to a very specific set of issues in the life of the people of God. This is why it is important to take some time after reading through the rich detail of the text to reflect on the “three horizons” of this book as we seek to apply it, live it, and communicate it.

There is a sense in which the book of Kings is a running commentary on the unfolding events from the reign of Solomon to the Babylonian exile. There is much here that offers a divine perspective on the Davidic line and its heterodox and fractured Israelite equivalents in the north, which is delivered in real time. The text does not simply offer a fifth-century perspective on the ninth century, for example. Instead, the text reflects the fact that the talking God has, both implicitly and explicitly, made it very clear how events in the land he has given to his people both reflect and depart from his agenda. In that sense, the message of the text is often also the message to the people who are involved in the events themselves.

At another level, however, the final form of the book of Kings is written with the catastrophic events of the destruction of Israel in 722 BC and, looming much larger in the national consciousness, the Babylonian exile culminating in 586 BC, very much in mind. This becomes obvious at times, as the writer slips in phrases such as “as it is to this day,” but more often this focus is built into the basic assessment of the relative significance of the characters described in its pages. Solomon, as the first and greatest king God’s people ever have in these pages, is deliberately described as flawed and compromised from the beginning, which provides a lens through which to view all those who follow. This also accounts for the way in which the reigns of some key kings (such as Omri and Manasseh) are dismissed cursorily. Politically their reigns may be significant, but in theological terms their tenures simply move Israel and Judah closer to the inevitable fate of those who oppose God. The message of these parts of the text are, by definition, aimed not primarily at those who lived through their reigns but at those who come long after and are asking the question, “How did we get into this mess?”

The final horizon of this book, then, is followers of the Lord Jesus Christ living for him today. In a startling passage in 1 Corinthians, Paul writes these words in reference to the exodus and wilderness wanderings:

These things took place as examples for us, that we might not desire evil as they did. Do not be idolaters as some of them were; as it is written, “The people sat down to eat and drink and rose up to play.” We must not indulge in sexual immorality as some of them did, and twenty-three thousand fell in a single day. We must not put Christ to the test, as some of them did and were destroyed by serpents, nor grumble, as some of them did and were destroyed by the Destroyer. Now these things happened to them as an example, but they were written down for our instruction, on whom the end of the ages has come. Therefore let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall. (1 Cor. 10:6–12)

In the kindness and mercy of God, 1–2 Kings was not simply written for the benefit of those who watched these events unfold before them, nor even for those who, generations later, had to grapple with how the reality of the Babylonian exile could possibly be squared with God’s covenant commitment to his people. The book is also intended for those “on whom the end of the ages has come”—those who by faith have been united with the Lord Jesus Christ. This book is, through the agency of the Holy Spirit, written for us. So what should we make of it?

In the introduction, I suggested that the book of Kings should be considered in four broad phases: the life and times of Solomon, the division of the kingdom, the ministry of Elijah and Elisha, and the demise of the kingdoms. When taken together, these four movements encapsulate the message of Kings both for the exilic generation and, ultimately, for the church of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Solomon’s significance in the canon is twofold. On the one hand, Solomon is the founder and greatest exponent of the “wisdom tradition,” represented by the Solomonic books of Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Solomon, as well as by Job. On the other, Solomon is the son of David: Solomon stands both as the original fulfillment of the dynastic promises of 2 Samuel but also as an example of the limitations of any hope that is attached firmly to the qualities of a “merely” human king.

For us, it is important to see beyond the hagiography that often slips into our discussion of Solomon to the harsh reality of the biblical text. We have seen that, although Solomon displays remarkable wisdom given to him by God, this wisdom is tainted from the beginning, mixed as it is with ungodly, stop-at-nothing pragmatism. Even after Solomon is given wisdom, our writer is quick to point out that this does not stop him from marrying Pharaoh’s daughter as the first of many wives and concubines, who will prove to be his downfall. The net effect of all of this is to establish quickly and decisively that no king (in fact, no human being) will ever display the quality or quantity of wisdom necessary to enable us to break free from the sinful patterns in which we are trapped as a race. The text is not slow to highlight the power and beauty of Solomon’s wisdom. However, it also makes very clear that even Solomon, in all his wisdom, continues to make deeply unwise choices, and that even under the rule of Solomon the Wise the life of God’s people begins to slide into idolatry and decline.

The fact that this wise man is also the Davidic king is crucial for understanding the overall message of this book. The extravagant promises made to David in 2 Samuel 7 promised both a dynasty and an eternal king whose reign far outstrips any seen before. Kings makes clear that Solomon is the partial fulfillment of the first promise, but not the second. In fact, the implication is clear that, given how far Solomon falls short of the anticipated Davidic ideal, it seems highly unlikely that anyone will ever surpass him. From the outset, the tone and expectation is set: no king will be able to live up to what has been promised and longed for by God’s people. In this way Solomon sets this entire book on a clear messianic trajectory, encouraging God’s people to look for a king who is not only the ultimate wise man but also a true Son of David whose character and consistency extends far beyond that of Solomon.

This basic perspective is instantly hammered home by the narrative of the division of the kingdom. The foolishness of Rehoboam and the politically motivated heterodoxy of Jeroboam launch the two reduced nations on paths from which they will never properly escape. The fact that even Solomon could not model godly wisdom consistently and establish a stable Davidic kingdom for the future is dramatically confirmed, and the differing incarnations of ungodliness on either side of the new border hold out little hope for the future. The sad reality of 1 Kings 12–16 is designed to ensure that we never slip into naive optimism about the inherent good of human institutions, nor their ability to deliver heaven on earth. There can only be one true King, and one true kingdom—that of the Lord Jesus Christ.

How, then, are we to cope with the massive divergence between what is promised and what we see before our eyes in the short term? The book of Kings answers this question by developing a robust doctrine of the word of Yahweh. First articulated by Moses (particularly in Deuteronomy 4), it is in the ministries of Elijah and Elisha that this doctrine is fleshed out. From the beginning, it is clear that even in the darkest days of his people, Yahweh continues to work through his word, relayed by his prophetic emissaries. In unexpected places, in unexpected ways, the word of Yahweh comes in dramatic force through both Elijah and Elisha, turning the lives of individuals on their heads for good and ordering the affairs of kings and nations, in both salvation and judgment. The long section of Kings that gives priority to the remarkable events surrounding these two men ensures that we view this period through theological eyes, recognizing that the main question to ask is, “What is God doing through his word?” as we are being prepared for the definitive word of God, spoken in and through the Lord Jesus Christ.

The concluding movements of the book of Kings reprise the pattern of 1 Kings 12–16 and underline the fact that no king, whether of Israel or of Judah, can ever come close to the Davidic ideal. Given our “unwisdom” and propensity to rebel, the long-term trajectory of our race, even when privileged with promise and prophet, can only be downhill. The staggered inevitability of the fate of first Israel, and then Judah, provides powerful and undeniable testimony to the fact that the tendency to idolatry is written deep into our sinful souls, and our only hope is to submit to the word of Yahweh himself, spoken through the prophets, and to cry to him for salvation in the face of judgment.

This urgent command however, must be set beside the pointer to the ultimate hope that Kings offers us. It is clear from the start that the issue faced by both Israel and Judah is not their institutions but the people themselves. God had promised a king who would reign forever—the issue is that none of those who take the throne come close to delivering on what God promised. The conclusion is inescapable: we still need a different kind of king. The kind of king promised in Deuteronomy 17. This is the only kind of king who will be able, under God, to fulfill the promises of 2 Samuel 7 and the “deeper” promises made to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and to lead the people of God home through repentance. The fact that the book of Kings ends with a most unexpected, mid-exile announcement that the line of David has not, in fact, been snuffed out is a very deliberate reminder that God’s plan to set all things aright through his king is not only still intact but has been demonstrated to be our only hope throughout this book.

For the Christian believer, then, the book of Kings breathes the air of the promises we know have been fulfilled in the Lord Jesus Christ. He is the only one who rules forever. He is the only one who can change our hearts and minds, bringing us to repentance and faith. He is the only one who both speaks and embodies the word of truth. He is our wisdom, our joy and delight. He is the one who brings both salvation and judgment. To him alone belong glory, honor, and praise.