2 Kings 18:1–20:21

Original Meaning

The Faithful King (18:1–12)

IN CONTRAST TO all the previous kings of Israel and Judah, Hezekiah is introduced as the faithful king, one who reformed Judean worship and moved Judah toward the ideal of the covenant. Hezekiah is not merely similar to David as Asa (1 Kings 15:11) or Jehoshaphat (22:43) were, but is the very model of the Davidic ideal (2 Kings 18:3, 5). His faithfulness results in the preservation of Jerusalem, a stark contrast to the captivity of Israel.

This point is made explicit by recounting again the fall of Israel, which takes place early in Hezekiah’s life, while he is coregent with his father, Ahaz.2 Hezekiah’s independent rule begins in 715 B.C., fourteen years before the siege against Jerusalem.3 He is rewarded for his faithfulness, not only in successfully resisting the Assyrian advances but also in securing his boundaries toward the Philistine territories (18:7–8). Hezekiah’s trust is particularly evident when he refuses to yield to the Assyrians, even when the fortified cities of Judah are destroyed and the Assyrian armies have encircled Jerusalem.

The religious reform of Hezekiah is not related to a rebellion against Assyria. During the Assyrian siege the Rabshakeh (NIV “field commander”) infers that the destruction of the high places, altars, and Asherah poles is evidence that Hezekiah has actually rebelled against his own God (18:22). This Assyrian leader feels that Hezekiah cannot encourage the people of Jerusalem to trust in their God when their own king has offended him by removing his images.

It is reasonable for the Assyrians to assume that the Israelite God was honored by these images; the Assyrian general makes a point about the removal of Israelite images, but not about the removal of Assyrian images.4 Hezekiah’s religious reform is political, possibly in anticipation of Assyrian attacks. Removal of the high places not only follows the demands of the covenant, but it centralizes the authority of Hezekiah in Jerusalem. Hezekiah initiates a significant buildup of economic resources and civil power.5 The relegation of Israel to Assyrian control during Hezekiah’s early years (cf. Isa. 8:21–9:1) necessitates preparations for further Assyrian advances.

The high places, pillars, and Asherah poles are familiar cult objects; the bronze serpent, referred to as “the bronze thing,” is mentioned only here. The name (n^eḥuštān) is a clever combination of the word snake (nāḥāš) and bronze (n^eḥōšet).6 When the Israelites had been afflicted with venomous snakes in the desert, healing was found by looking at a bronze snake Moses made and elevated on a bronze pole according to God’s instruction (Num. 21:4–9).

The image of a dead snake as an agent to bring life fits the logic of the Israelite sacrificial system; though no connection is suggested, the identification of the bronze snake with the desert serpent is entirely credible.7 Hezekiah rigorously adheres to the covenant requirement; his allegiance to God demonstrates God’s wisdom that will be the envy of the nations (18:6; cf. Deut. 4:4–8). His prosperity is not only prudent administration, but also divine blessing.

Devastation of Judah (18:13–16)

Bridging Contexts

YAHWEH AND SENNACHERIB. In later Jewish tradition Hezekiah becomes venerated as a man of faith and success. In Sirach he is remembered for his fortifications and water provision, his obedience like that of David, the sign he received, and his revelation of the future (Sir. 48:17–25). In the Talmud, Hezekiah is the messiah, and Sennacherib is like Gog and Magog (b. Sanh. 94a). Rabban Johanan ben Zakkai at his death asked that a throne be prepared for Hezekiah king of Judah, who is coming (b. Ber. 28b). The veneration of Hezekiah in later tradition is readily understood as a development from the Deuteronomistic Historians, who portray Hezekiah as a man of faith, both in the narrative (2 Kings 18:5–6) and in the speeches of the field commander (18:17–25, 28–35). Hezekiah is a model of covenant fidelity.

It is notable that Kings gives so little attention to the cultic reforms of Hezekiah, insofar as the measure of covenant fidelity is worship in Jerusalem. The key achievement of his reign as remembered in the prophetic sources is the deliverance of Jerusalem. This is particularly relevant to the central concern of the Deuteronomistic Historians, whose intent is to provide a theological explanation for the Exile. Hezekiah is the supreme example of how exile is averted by faithfulness. The theology of trusting in God is presented in the words of the principal characters. The real protagonists in the story are Sennacherib and Yahweh, though they never actually appear on the scene. They act through their respective representatives, Isaiah and the field commander (Rabshakeh). Their war of words reveals the real issue, as articulated by Fewell:

The Rabshakeh claims that Hezekiah’s words are empty (18:20), offensive to Yahweh (18:22), and deceptive (18:30, 32). The people’s words are imprudent (18:22), and Yahweh’s words are not simply misleading (19:10), but are out-and-out double-dealing (18:25)! Hezekiah and Yahweh classify the Assyrian’s words as mocking (hrp, 19:4, 16, 22, 23), blasphemous (gdp, 19:6, 22), and raging (rgz, 19:27, 28).28

The speech of the field commander is presented as a counter to that of the prophet Isaiah.29 The field commander takes his position by the aqueduct of the Upper Pool in the highway of the Washerman’s Field (18:17); this is the same location where Isaiah earlier encountered Ahaz (Isa. 7:5).

The words of the field commander are introduced like the oracles of a prophet (2 Kings 18:19, 29, 31; cf. 19:6). His claim that Egypt cannot be trusted is the virtual equivalent of the prophet (18:21, 24; Isa. 31:1). He promises to grant peace to the people so that everyone may “eat from their vine and fig tree and drink water from their own cistern” (2 Kings 18:31). This was the experience of the people in the days of Solomon (1 Kings 5:5) and was the hope held out for those vanquished (Mic. 4:4). In effect, Sennacherib offers a new covenant to supersede the one in force between Yahweh and Israel. This is the point of offering the Israelites a “blessing” (2 Kings 18:31).30 Sennacherib promises the benefits of the covenant with God if the people will only surrender to him.

Yahweh’s response through Isaiah is not so much a reply to Hezekiah as it is to Assyrian arrogance (19:21–31). The taunting oracle asks whom the Assyrian has scorned (v. 22); this is a direct response to the question about whom Hezekiah has trusted (18:22; 19:10). The Assyrian demands to know who has escaped from his power (18:33–35; 19:12–13). God rehearses his claim (19:23–24) and then declares his plans made long ago (vv. 25–28): The Assyrians themselves will be led away as captives. The promise of sowing and harvesting is particularly fitting to a besieged city (19:29–30). God makes plain that he is the One to offer terms of life and death (vv. 32–34); Sennacherib cannot usurp that role.

Hezekiah in Kings and Isaiah. In the book of Isaiah, the faith of Hezekiah is set in deliberate contrast to the perfidy of Ahaz. Both Ahaz and Hezekiah are threatened with the destruction of Jerusalem (cf. Isa. 7:1–2). Ahaz is given the assurance of the prophet, who meets him on the road by the pool; mere human forces, represented by the capital cities of Samaria and Damascus and their respective kings Pekah and Rezin, can be no threat to the Holy One of Israel (17:7–9a). Ahaz is offered a sign but refuses it (7:11–13). By contrast, when Hezekiah is confronted with the words of the field commander, he seeks out Isaiah with a word from Yahweh. When confronted with a threat to his life, he turns in prayer to Yahweh and receives a sign that will assure his recovery (38:1–8). In contrast to faithless Ahaz, Hezekiah is a model king, one who exemplifies trust and dependence on God on behalf of his people.

In Isaiah, the healing becomes an example for the restoration of Jerusalem. The sign is an immediate sequel to the promise of healing (Isa. 38:7–8) rather than a separate section assuring the king that he will yet worship at the temple (2 Kings 20:8–11). Following the promise of the sign, Isaiah introduces a psalm of Hezekiah celebrating his restoration to life and worship (Isa. 38:10–20). The text in Isaiah is subtly adjusted so the focus is no longer on the king but on the restoration of the city.31 In Isaiah there is no mention of healing in response to the prayer of Hezekiah; the prophet promises an addition of fifteen years to the life of Hezekiah and assures him that God will deliver him and Jerusalem from the power of the Assyrians.

The sign follows, as an assurance God will deliver the king and the city from the threat of Sennacherib. The poem serves as a message of hope for the city. As Ackroyd has shown, the psalm of Hezekiah concentrates on his experience as a restoration back to life, typical of metaphors used in Lamentations and Jeremiah for the experience of exile.32 The climax is reached with the individual joining the community in worship at the temple. The illness and death of Hezekiah become a kind of judgment and exile; the song points to the possibility of the restoration of the people of Zion.

The texts of Isaiah do not refer to Hezekiah personally going up to the house of Yahweh, as in 2 Kings 20:5, 8. Whereas in Kings attention focuses entirely on Hezekiah as an individual, in Isaiah he typifies the restoration of the community, and the royal line in particular, as continuing to worship in the Lord’s house. In this new context, reference to a single visit to the temple is inappropriate.33 The climax of the poetic account of Hezekiah’s restoration comes with the celebration that he and his children give praise to God throughout their lives in the house of Yahweh:

The living, the living—they praise you,

as I am doing today;

fathers tell their children

about your faithfulness.

The LORD will save me,

and we will sing with stringed instruments

all the days of our lives,

in the temple of the LORD. (Isa. 38:19–20)

In Isaiah, the Hezekiah story provides a transition to a message of hope and restoration (Isa. 40–55). The Hezekiah story ends as it does in Kings, with the prophecy that the descendants of Hezekiah will go to captivity in Babylon. A bridge to the message of hope antecedes the Hezekiah story (esp. Isa. 35), with the themes of divine judgment on the nations and the return of the redeemed to Zion. Numerous literary motifs of the second half of Isaiah are introduced. The narrative of Hezekiah, adopted and adapted from the book of Kings, becomes a demonstration of God’s defeat of the nations and hope for the return to Zion and worship at the temple.34

The faithfulness of Hezekiah does not receive the same emphasis in Isaiah as it does in 2 Kings, since Isaiah lacks the introduction 2 Kings 18:1–12; the threat to Judah is minimized, because Isaiah does not include the report on the Assyrian devastation of all the fortified cities (vv. 13–16). The healing of Hezekiah becomes less central, as Isaiah does not have two distinct sections concerning the healing (20:1–7) and the sign for the healing (vv. 8–11). Instead, the prayer and the sign emphasize restoration to life; the restoration of the king also holds promise for the community of faith. The loss of the nation can be sustained as long as there is the promise of continued worship of God at the temple, which symbolizes God’s presence in the world.

Hezekiah in Chronicles. In Chronicles Hezekiah becomes the ideal king. Though the textual similarity is more limited, the dependence of the Chronicler on 2 Kings is obvious. The introduction (2 Chron. 29:1–2) and conclusion (32:33–34) have been adopted from his source. The three main events of Kings are treated in the same order: the siege of Sennacherib (32:1–21), Hezekiah’s illness (vv. 24–26), and the visit of the Babylonian envoys (v. 31).

The account of Hezekiah is among the longest in Chronicles (2 Chron. 29–31), describing at length his restoration of the temple, Passover celebration, appointment of temple personnel, and provisions for the temple. The Passover includes an invitation to the people of Israel, who have already been exiled by the Assyrians; they respond in great numbers (30:10–13), even though they are not consecrated (30:18–20). The prayer of Hezekiah heals the people, according to the formula given by Solomon (7:14). This extensive development of Hezekiah’s reign gives a different significance to the material that has been carefully followed from the Kings source.

After all the magnificent reform Hezekiah has undertaken, the attack of Sennacherib comes as an assault against the city of God. The Chronicler does not concern himself with multiple appearances of emissaries before the city. Sennacherib’s efforts at intimidation are combined into a single event; the letters occur between the threats of the field commander and shouting to the people on the wall (32:15–18). Hezekiah has thoroughly prepared for the attack, and the city of Jerusalem is invincible under divine protection.

The Chronicler portrays Hezekiah as a second Solomon.35 The days of Solomon are described as days of blessing; the hope of Israel is to return to such a time. During the time of Ahaz, Israel comes to be in a state of virtual exile. South and north have become apostate. Hezekiah’s renewal provides for restoration and unification, a time that can be compared with Solomon’s. The king begins to restore the temple as soon as he begins to reign (2 Chron. 29:3). Solomon built a house dedicated for the burning of sweet spices, continual showbread, and regular offerings. Hezekiah refers to these items in his confession (29:7) and makes provision for their restoration (v. 18). He appoints the priests and the Levites (31:2) and makes provision for the restoration of the sacrifices (31:3).

At the time of the celebration of the Passover under Hezekiah there is “great joy in Jerusalem, for since the days of Solomon son of David king of Israel there had been nothing like this in Jerusalem” (30:26). One distinctive of Hezekiah’s celebration, similar to the dedication of the temple under Solomon, is its duration; it lasts an extra seven days (30:23; cf. 7:8–9).

A second indication of renewal in Chronicles is Hezekiah’s success in inviting the northern remnant to participate in the feast; as in the days of Solomon, all Israel is united in worship at the temple. The Passover is observed with all the people (30:5), including the resident aliens from Israel (30:25). The reunion of Israel in the celebration of worship at the temple reverses the times of unfaithfulness in the days of Ahaz. Repentance and restoration bring about the ideal of the kingdom of God, as it was known in the days of Solomon.

The Chronicler portrays Hezekiah according to his central theological concerns. A king who has acted faithfully will know God’s blessing through victory in war (32:1), building programs, wealth, fame among the Gentiles, healing in times of illness, and the regard of his people at death.36 The Chronicler is much concerned about exile and restoration. Hezekiah is a model for avoiding exile and enjoying restoration. He shows the path to recovery after foreign domination under Ahaz. His faithfulness avoids exile for Judah in his days (32:26).

In both Kings and Isaiah the visit of the Babylonians becomes the portent of exile; in Chronicles this is depicted differently. In the earlier accounts the visitors from Babylon come in response to the miraculous recovery from illness; in Chronicles they come in response to the well-known Babylonian interest in astrology, inquiring about the reversal of the shadow (2 Chron. 32:31). The suggestion of political intrigue found in Kings is absent, and Hezekiah’s display of wealth is regarded positively (32:27–29). The visit of the envoys is seen as a test from God (v. 31), which is necessary after Hezekiah’s prior deviation and repentance. The account of Hezekiah in Chronicles concludes on a positive note. The Chronicler becomes the first to treat Hezekiah, along with David and Solomon, as a messianic figure. In his faithfulness he embodies the hopes of Israel for the restoration of a united people enjoying peace, victory, and prosperity.

Hezekiah and Babylonians. In the final analysis, the Deuteronomistic History is about the Exile. Babylon as a place of exile appears for the first time at the conclusion of the Hezekiah story. This appearance demonstrates the blindness of the king to historical reality. The Babylonians’ “seeing” the complete stock of the treasuries of temple and palace point toward a threatening future (2 Kings 20:13).

The most probable reason for the visit of Merodach-Baladan and his emissaries is to seek cooperation against the Assyrians. With an alliance in the west, Merodach-Baladan can engage the Assyrians on two fronts at the time of the ascension of Sennacherib. Hezekiah fails to appreciate his own vulnerability to Babylonian power. The Babylonian inspection of the Judean resources, even in the interests of an alliance, is an initial stage in taking possession of them. This event apparently takes place just before the fifteen years are added to his life, and possibly before the Assyrian attack, which occurs in his fourteenth year. The exposure of all military and economic resources to those from “a foreign land” (2 Kings 20:14–15) is an ominous portent of the future (Deut. 29:22–23). Inspection of the Promised Land by foreigners is a sign of judgment like that of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Hezekiah’s response to the prophetic word of judgment appears to be that of resignation and cynicism: “The word of the LORD you have spoken is good.… Will there not be peace and security in my lifetime?” Though many attempts have been made to explain the severity of the judgment against Hezekiah, the narrative gives no indication that the threat of exile is a direct consequence of his actions. The judgment that will shortly occur is not by accident, nor is it evoked directly by the misdeeds of the king. Events are unfolding according to the divine plan: “The word of God is fulfilled in history; it has not failed.”37

The final words about “peace and security” in the lifetime of Hezekiah are derived from Isaiah. They are not found in the earliest texts of Kings, and they are a characteristic marker in Isaiah (Isa. 48:22; 57:21).38 In Isaiah, they are particularly appropriate following the theology of the poem of Hezekiah, which points to the possibility of life and hope in spite of judgment. The response of Hezekiah is to be regarded as acceptance of the divine will and, with the final phrase, emphasizes the divine grace extended during the lifetime of the faithful king.39

Whatever the failure of Hezekiah in his willingness to entertain the Babylonians, his loyalty and faithfulness are not without an enduring benefit. Prophetic words of judgment can be regarded as salvific for the lifetime of the king, as is the case with Micah the prophet in the days of Hezekiah (Jer. 26:16–19). Hezekiah is credited with the appropriate response to the words of Micah, with the result that judgment is delayed. The positive assessment given to Hezekiah in the days of Jeremiah seems to be present in Kings as well.

Contemporary Significance

FAITHFULNESS. Faithfulness is primary in any relationship and is the most fundamental requirement in a relationship with God. A covenant is the highest commitment of faithfulness; for Hezekiah, the covenant is both collective and personal. He represents the people who have entered into a divine covenant and leads them to faithfully observe it. This is possible only because of his own faithfulness, seen in both his response to the Assyrian threat and his illness.

Christians in the same way are called to faithfulness, both collectively and individually. In writing to the Corinthians, Paul exhorts the believers to be faithful to Christ, because all things are theirs in Christ (1 Cor. 3:21–23). He uses the metaphor of a steward to describe the calling of Christians to represent God in his world. All things belong to Christ, and by extension to his followers. When Paul refers to “stewards of the mysteries of God” (4:1, NASB), he means that Christians fulfill the work of God’s kingdom in this world until such time as it is consummated in the second coming of Christ. As stewards responsible for the work of the kingdom in this world, faithfulness is the one fundamental requirement (v. 2).

Such stewardship is much more than just giving money or being prudent with material possessions. It means to use every moment of time as a gift from God in a way that honors God. In this respect Christians must not become unduly introspective; Paul himself notes that he does not spend time on self-examination (1 Cor. 4:3–5). He knows of nothing that will compromise his faithfulness, but that judgment belongs to the Lord. When the Lord comes, he will make manifest our intentions more clearly than we can know them now.

Hezekiah is a model of the exhortation the apostle leaves Christians. The motives of Hezekiah can be questioned in the way he dealt with the Assyrians, in his prayer during the time of his illness, and particularly in his culpability in exposing his wealth and military capabilities to the Babylonian emissaries. In all of these matters Hezekiah is simply presented as a king in pursuit of faithfulness, doing the best he can within his own circumstances.

In the case of the Assyrian siege, Hezekiah brings his case to God through the mediation of the prophet Isaiah in quiet confidence: “It may be that the LORD your God will hear all the words of the field commander, whom his master, the king of Assyria, has sent to ridicule the living God, and that he will rebuke him for the words the LORD your God has heard. Therefore pray for the remnant that still survives” (2 Kings 19:4). In the announcement of his impending death, Hezekiah seeks solitude and leaves his request for healing unspoken; in prayer he recalls his loyalty, dedication, and integrity before God (20:2–3). With the announcement of inevitable exile, Hezekiah accepts the fate of his people as God’s will fulfilled, with gratitude for his grace extended in the present (v. 19). Hezekiah is not flawless, but he always pursues faithfulness.

A faithful life inspires faithfulness in others. Hezekiah inspires faithfulness in his time, with the result that Jerusalem is spared and a time of peace comes. Faithfulness, however, is not abandonment to commitment; it requires careful thought concerning the optimum way to serve the kingdom with the resources available and the challenges of the circumstances.

Sometimes faithfulness requires the ultimate commitment of dying for the truth. Antipas, from the church of Pergamum, was a faithful witness (martys) to the point of death (Rev. 2:13). Polycarp, the second-century bishop of Smyrna, when called on to revile Christ, replied: “Eighty and six years have I served Him and He hath done me no wrong. How can I revile my Lord and Savior?” (Mart. Pol. 9.3). Unfortunately, in the course of Christian history, martyrdom has been desired as a way of demonstrating the ultimate commitment. Willingness to die can be a failure to be willing to live for the purpose to which God has called us. Life is a gift to be used as a steward, unless it is simply impossible to do so.

Since the time of the martyrs, who were the seed of the church, many have suffered and given their lives in faithfulness to the gospel. Voice of the Martyrs, the worldwide organization begun by Richard Wurmbrand, daily gathers scores of reports of Christians being faithful under circumstance of severe persecution and death.40 The writer to the Hebrews exhorts Christians to be faithful in time of suffering (Heb. 10:32–39). They suffered public humiliation and identified with those who so suffered; they suffered the plundering of their possessions. Endurance of suffering for the sake of the kingdom is the mark of faithfulness, which will bring a great reward.

Faithfulness and holy war. Zeal for a cause is not to be regarded as the faithfulness demanded of God’s children. Our zeal may not be God’s cause or God’s way. An interview with a suicide bomber reveals something of zeal for a goal, where the end justifies the means, but which has nothing to do with being faithful to more important values. Marwan Abu Ubeida (a generic Iraqi name) prepared for months to climb into a bomb-laden vehicle or to strap on an explosives-filled vest.41 He spent much time rehearsing his last prayer: “May Allah bless my mission with a high rate of casualties among the Americans. May he purify my soul so I am fit to see him, and may I see my mujahedin brothers who are already with him.”

At age twenty, Marwan was a battle-hardened insurgent, a jihadi foot soldier. His oversize hands were heavily calloused from use of his favorite weapon, the Russian-made PKC machine gun. His journey to become a suicide bomber began when American soldiers fired on a crowd of demonstrators at a school, killing twelve and wounding many more. Marwan was part of the protest, but escaped unharmed. A few days later he and friends collected arms from a military site abandoned by the Iraqi army and attacked a building occupied by U.S. soldiers. Marwan was part of a long list of volunteers; when he was finally accepted, it was the happiest day of his life. He could hardly wait for the time of his opportunity; he was ready to die.

Patience and discipline are certainly critical to the mission of a suicide bomber. Waiting is the hardest part; volunteers need to undergo a program to discipline the mind and cleanse the soul. The training is done by field commanders and clerics sympathetic to the insurgency. The training is mainly psychological and spiritual. Marwan spent his time reading the Koran, the history of the jihad, and the great martyrs who had gone on before. Suicide bombers immerse themselves in spiritual contemplation and prayer, seeking to free their minds of negative thoughts toward their fellow humans, except for Americans and their infidel Iraqi supporters. They share their final hours with fellow suicide bombers, with expectations that they will meet again in heaven.

Marwan was certain that he was on a pure path. “Yes,” he said, “I am a terrorist. Write that down; I admit I am a terrorist. The Koran says it is the duty of Muslims to bring terror to the enemy, so being a terrorist makes me a good Muslim.” Marwan quoted lines from the surah (section of the Koran) known as Al-Anfal (The Spoils of War): “Against them make ready your strength to the utmost of your power, including steeds of war, to strike terror into the enemy.” Marwan’s only regret was that innocent fellow Iraqis might be killed. If some did die, when they got to heaven, Allah would ask them to forgive him. Marwan would not be a hero; unlike Palestinian martyrs, his identity would not be known. That did not matter to him; the only person who matters is Allah, and the only question he asks is how many infidels were killed.

Jihad (struggle or battle) is a religious duty imposed on Muslims to wage war in the spread of Islam. Jihad can be fulfilled through the heart, the tongue, the hand, and the sword. “Jihad of the heart” consists of spiritual battle against evil in one’s own life; “jihad of tongue and hand” is largely accomplished by supporting what is right and correcting what is wrong. “Jihad of the sword” is physical warfare against unbelievers and enemies of the Islamic faith. This is often translated as “holy war,” the same phrase scholars use for divine warfare in the Bible. But we must maintain a sharp distinction between the two. Divine warfare in the Bible occurs when God fights on behalf of his people. Jihad in Islam is when people go to war on behalf of God. This inspires the mind of a suicide bomber like Marwan, making him believe he is on a pure path to an exalted eternal state.

The distinction between “holy war” in Christianity and Islam has not been well maintained. The ideal of biblical “holy war” is exemplified in the Hezekiah story; Hezekiah, helpless before his enemies, turns to Isaiah for direction and turns in prayer to the Holy One seated in his royal throne above the cherubim (2 Kings 19:15). “Holy war” takes place when 185,000 Assyrian soldiers die in the camp in one night (v. 35) and Sennacherib returns in defeat to his own country, where he is killed by his own sons (vv. 36–37). This is the occasion of Hezekiah being faithful and trusting God, so inadvertently and elegantly expressed in the words of the field commander.

Such “holy war” is most easily enacted when there is no alternative. Hezekiah has already stripped the royal treasury, and the land has been plundered (18:14–16). Egypt has already proved to be of no help. His is fully a war of defense. Divine warfare is not always defensive, and human participation can be a part of divine warfare, as the stories in Joshua attest. Warfare has often been carried on in the name of God, not unlike the jihad of the sword.

Among the most infamous of wars for God are the Crusades. It is ironic that the Crusades should have begun with a council that both officially sanctioned war and promulgated peace. The Council of Clermont convoked by Urban II in 1095 included a canon that granted a plenary indulgence (the remission of all penance for sin) to those who undertook to aid Christians in the East. This peace movement was designed to protect those in distress, such as those Christians who lived in the oppression of Muslim lands.

Precisely what the pope said when he addressed a large crowd of representatives will never be known, since surviving accounts were written years later.42 He apparently stressed the plight of Eastern Christians, the molestation of the Christian pilgrims, and the desecration of the holy places. He urged those of his hearers guilty of disturbing the peace to turn their energies toward a holy cause. Cries of Deus volt (“God wills it”) were heard everywhere; it was also decided that those who agreed to go should wear a cross. A large popular element joined the warrior knights. The result was less than the desired end of undertaking a pilgrimage with the most exalted of motives and an acceptance of suffering.

Faithfulness and prayer. A contrast to the Crusades is the legacy of Pope John Paul II. His legacy for the church is likely to be mixed, but his influence as a spiritual leader has been demonstrated in the enormous response to his death, especially by the young. Irish novelist Colm Toibin describes the effect of John Paul’s dramatic gesture of holding his head in his hands for twenty minutes before a crowd of one million pilgrims in Poland. What he did ceased to be a public gesture, but became instead intensely private. “He was offering the young who had come here in the infant years of Eastern European democracy not a lesson in doctrine of faith or morals but some mysterious example of what a spiritual life might look like.”43

Prayer was a fundamental aspect of the way Karol Wojtyla lived and the way he died. Any attempt to evaluate the enormous response to his death has to consider his prayer life. National Geographic photographer Jim Stanfield spoke of being alone with John Paul in the Garden of Our Lady at Castel Gandolfo, the pope’s summer residence. The Holy Father went to a kneeler and started to pray; then they walked for about a mile. Stanfield says, “That was probably the most significant and the most rewarding experience of my life, bar none.”44 Faithfulness in prayer is one of the most challenging disciplines of the Christian life.

A second concern characteristic of John Paul II was his pastoral concern for young people. Journalist Vittorio Messori writes of John Paul’s discovery of the essential importance of youth as a young priest in Poland.45 Youth is a time given by providence to each person and given as a task: to answer the fundamental questions concerning not only the meaning and purpose of life, but also the concrete project or direction life will take. Youth is the period of the personalization of human life. It is also the period of communion; a human being has a vocation to love. Young people know that they have to live for and with others; they know that their life has meaning when it becomes a free gift to one’s neighbor.

Faithfulness and endurance of pain. Another area of faithfulness is the endurance of pain. In the case of Hezekiah, prayer was rewarded with an extension of health, but loss of strength is the inevitable experience of human life in this world. John Paul was a model in his public persona, but also in the suffering he endured. Death and pain in the body are two of our greatest fears as human beings. John Paul II lived and died publicly. He believed he was being led by the Holy Spirit; he believed there were no coincidences in life. His natural talents and habits enabled him to make what can be called a good death. More people followed the death of John Paul than any other major news media event. The reaction to his death was occasioned in large measure by the way he triumphed over sickness and death.

Faithfulness and disappointment. A most difficult circumstance for faithfulness is disappointment and failure to reach a goal. This was the case for Hezekiah in the message he received concerning the future of his people. Irrespective of his life of reform and dedication to the true worship of God, the end for his people would be the judgment of exile. Hezekiah determined to pursue peace in his time. It did not change his commitment or his faithfulness.

The disappointment of failure was also expressed in the prayer of Moses. On the very edge of the Promised Land, Moses asked that he be allowed to just step over the river to at least symbolically represent the achievement of his life desire (Deut. 3:23–29). This was not just his own failure; Moses suffered because of the rebellion of others, and he died with them. His only fulfillment was to observe the land from the peaks of Mount Pisgah. Joshua was delegated to go on to fulfill the mission.

This is remembered in Psalm 90, a psalm designated as a “prayer of Moses.” The psalm reflects on life in the presence of a God who is eternal (vv. 1–6), holy (vv. 7–12), and merciful (vv. 13–17). His eternal nature is a reminder of the relative duration of required faithfulness; the length of time in life is not nearly as significant as faithfulness. The struggle in life is because we belong to the world of the common, a world of suffering, a world separated from the holiness of God. The prayer of Moses is that we may experience both joy and fulfillment because of God’s mercy. Joy is that experience of peace that is equal to the troubles of the day (vv. 14–15); fulfillment is to know that God has taken our work and made it part of his kingdom (vv. 16–17).

Moses is not remembered for his disappointment in not crossing the Jordan; it is seldom recalled that he spent the majority of his life in the desert and the early part of it in alienation from his people. Moses is remembered as the leader of Israel, the mediator of the covenant relationship. Hezekiah is not remembered for being the first to receive the announcement of exile. Rather, he is remembered for his faithfulness, for being a king who symbolized hope in time of death, for being a king who was a type of messianic significance.

There are times when faithfulness in the Christian life seems as futile as Moses in the desert or Hezekiah sparing Jerusalem. There may be long and agonizing illness, years of constant caregiving. There may be years of labor, where work seems nothing more than drudgery in order to make a living. Faithfulness in this world is not always rational. Often its value can only be recognized in looking back at how God has used it. Faithfulness is the one thing God requires of stewards. The consequences of failure to be faithful are certain. The end of the book of Kings is one testimony of the results of unfaithfulness.