Part 19

This is an answer which can not be understood in print. It was evident, however, that Ahab was in no doubt as to its meaning, for the tone of the prophet was a tone of almost contemptuous irony. If King Ahab had taken Micaiah’s literal answer, he would have gone forth to the battle comforting himself with the thought that he was carrying out the will of Heaven; but he knew in his own soul that Micaiah was not uttering that which expressed the reality of the case. With anger the king said unto him: “How many times shall I adjure thee that thou tell me nothing but that which is true in the name of the Lord?”

Then Micaiah replied in symbolic language, the full meaning of which was vividly clear to the mind of Ahab; for, turning to Jehoshaphat, he said: “Did I not tell thee that he would prophesy no good concerning me, but evil?”

Thereupon Micaiah charged the whole band of prophets with being under the inspiration of a lying spirit, and thus he put a stigma upon their judgment and extracted from it every particle of dignity and authority.

But this was not to be borne, for Zedekiah went near and smote Micaiah on the cheek and taunted him as being the only prophet in Israel. Micaiah had to bear the sarcasm conveyed in the inquiry: “Which way went the Spirit of the Lord from me to speak unto thee?”

Micaiah, like a true prophet, leaves his judgment to the decision of time. He will not stoop to argue, or to exchange words either of anger or of controversy; he simply says that Zedekiah will one day see the meaning of the whole prophecy, and until that day controversy would be useless.

Micaiah had to pay for his intrepidity. He was carried unto Amon, the governor of the city, and to Joash, the king’s son, and was to be put in prison and fed with the bread of affliction and with the water of affliction until Ahab returned in peace.

Micaiah thus disappears from history. Of his fate we know nothing; but there can be no difficulty in forecasting it a cruel death. Micaiah knew well the meaning of the king’s message. It may be difficult for the commentator to explain the expression, “bread of affliction and water of affliction,” but Micaiah knew the full meaning of the terms, and yet, while their cruel sound was in his ears, he looked at the king and said: “If thou return at all in peace, the Lord hath not spoken by me.”

Micaiah also made his appeal to the people, and thus committed himself to the verdict of history, saying: “Hearken, O people, every one of you.”

See whether it is not a moment to be proud of when Micaiah turns away in the custody of his persecutors, having delivered his soul with a fearlessness that did not cower or blanche, even at the sight of death in its most ghastly form. Surely, it is due to history to recognize the fact that there have been men who have not counted their lives dear unto themselves when they were called upon to testify for truth and goodness.

The martyrs must never be forgotten.

Dark will be the day in the history of any nation when the men who shed their blood that truth might be told and honor might be vindicated are no longer held in remembrance. In vain do we bring forth from our hidden treasure the coins of ancient times, the robes worn in high antiquity by kings and priests, the rusty armor of warriors, if there is no longer in our heart the most tender recollection of the men who wandered about clad in sheep-skins and goat-skins--being destitute, afflicted and tormented--that they might save the torch of truth from extinction and the standard of honor from overthrow.

Away the kings have gone, and instead of relying upon the word of the Lord, or taking refuge in the sanctuary of great principles, they invent little tricks for the surprise and dismay of the enemy.

The king of Israel disguised himself, and Jehoshaphat made himself as the king of Israel; but all their inventions came to nothing. A certain man drew a bow at a venture, and smote the king of Israel between the joints of the harness. The poor king was fatally struck. He “was stayed up his chariot against the Syrians, and died at even; and the blood ran out of the wound into the midst of the chariot.… And one washed the chariot in the pool of Samaria; and the dogs licked up his blood; and they washed his armor; according unto the word of the Lord which He spake.”

So will perish all the enemies of the Lord.

Differences of merely accidental detail there will ever be, but no honor can mark the death of those who have gone contrary to the will of Heaven, and taken counsel of their own imagination. How long shall the lessons of history be wasted upon us? How long will men delude themselves with the mad infatuation that they can fight against God and prosper? Horsemen and chariots are nothing; gold and silver are valueless; all the resources of civilization are but an elaborate display of cobwebs. Nothing can stand in the final conflict but truth, right and purity. These are the eternal bulwarks, and unto these are assured complete and unchangeable victory. If God be for us, who can be against us? And if God be against us, it will matter not what kings are for us; they shall be blown away by the wind as if contemptuously, and cast out as refuse which is of no value.

My soul, be thou faithful to the voice of history, nor tell lies to thyself, nor operate merely through imagination, ambition or selfish calculation; for the end of this course is death--not heroic death, not death over which coming men and women will weep, but death that shall be associated with dishonor, a thing to be forgotten, an event never to be named without bitterness and shame.

The first and second Book of Kings constitute a section of Jewish history, and originally formed only one book in the sacred writings. It was customary with the Jews to name the sacred books from the word or words with which they commenced; and, while this practice may have given rise to the designation, “Kings,” it is right to observe that the title is well fitted to indicate the character of these historic compositions.

The annals given in these sacred registers are necessarily brief; but they extend from the close of David’s reign till the commonwealth was dissolved, a period of 427 years. Succinct as is the history contained in these books, there are some peculiarities in them which should not be overlooked, and from which not a little may be learned. There is not here a simple biography of the various kings that occupied the thrones of Judah and Israel, nor is there a mere detail of national movements and events, nor even a tabular register of ecclesiastical affairs. The throne, the state and the church are all exhibited in their mutual relations and bearings upon each other. Kings and people are held up to view as existing and acting under the immediate government of God; and hence the character of the ruler is always tested by the mode in which he adheres to the laws of the Most High and develops the moral excellences of the people. The notice of his accession to royal office is generally accompanied with an estimate of his conduct, and the standard to which he is likened or with which he is contrasted is either the character of David, of his own father or of Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, “who made Israel to sin.”

All the political events which are recorded have been brought forward chiefly to exhibit the influence of religion on national prosperity, and in this way to show how the divine King of Israel observed the conduct of his subjects, and rewarded their fidelity or avenged their wickedness with expressions of righteous indignation. And the affairs of the Church are all portrayed with the evident design of giving prominence to the same important truth.

Idolatry in Israel was treason against their King; religious defection was open revolt, and every act of overt wickedness was an act of rebellion. Hence there is a constant comparing or contrasting of religious state and feeling with those of former times, and especially are the oracles of truth continually elevated as the perfect standard to which the thoughts and actions of all should be conformed.

The Mosaic promises and warnings are strikingly verified in the Books of Kings. For this object they were written, and to the manifestation of this the author has made his whole narrative conduce.

Much variety of opinion exists with reference to the author of these records and the period of their composition. Jewish tradition ascribes the authorship of the treatise to Jeremiah, the prophet--a supposition which is greatly strengthened by the similarity of style and idiom which is traceable between the language of the Books of Kings and that of Jeremiah.

AHAZIAH.

Ahaziah was the son of Ahab and Jezebel. He was badly born. Some allowance must be made for this fact in estimating his character.

Again and again we have had occasion, and shall indeed often have, to remark upon the disadvantages of children born of wicked parents. It is not for us to lay down any final doctrine of responsibility; we must leave that in the hands of a just and gracious God.

A terrible spectacle, however, it is to see a man whose father sold himself to work wickedness in the sight of the Lord, who bound himself as for a price to show rebellion on the very floor of Heaven.

Ahaziah was a prince of evil--a man who said he would defile the sanctuary and commit his supreme sin within the shadow of the altar, and whose mother laid the plans for the murder of Naboth, and who all but personally superintended their execution. What can we expect from such a child of darkness? Who can gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Was he responsible for his own actions? Society is often hard on such men--not unreasonably or unnaturally. Yet society is often very gracious to such men, saying with an instinctive piety and sense of justice: “After all, such men are not to be personally blamed for their antecedents; they may indeed be open to some measure of suspicion, but even they must have their opportunity in life.”

Let us consider the case of Ahaziah and see how matters stand for our own instruction.

To understand the matter thoroughly, we must go to the twenty-second chapter of the first Book of Kings: “Then said Ahaziah, the son of Ahab, unto Jehoshaphat: ‘Let my servants go with thy servants in the ships.’ But Jehoshaphat would not.”

Jehoshaphat was right when he acted upon his instinct. By-and-by he came to act upon a basis of calculation, and then a compact was entered into. But who dare set aside the voice of instinct--the very first voice that rises in the soul to make judgment and to give direction?

Jehoshaphat, on hearing the proposal of the son of Ahab, said: “No. I have known thy father too well. I am too familiarly acquainted with thy family history. Thou shalt not send thy servants with mine.”

It would be well for us if we could sometimes act more promptly upon our instincts. It would have been well for Jehoshaphat if he had acted upon his instinct.

Ahaziah fell through the lattice, and in his helplessness he became religious. Man must have some God. Even Atheism is a kind of religion. When a man recoils openly from what may be termed the public faith of his country, he seeks to apologize for his recoil, and to make up for his church absence by creating high obligations of another class. He plays the patriot; he plays the disciplinarian; he will be a Spartan in personal training and drill--in some way he will try to make up for or defend the recoil of his soul from the old altar of his country.

It is in their helplessness that we really know what men are. Do not listen to the frivolous and irresponsible chatter of men who, being in robust health, really know nothing about the aching, the sorrow, the pain, the need and the agony of this awful human life.

What does our helplessness suggest? Instantly we go out of ourselves to seek friendship, assistance and sympathy. “Oh, would some gentle hand but touch my weariness!” Thus cries the helpless one. All that, being fairly and duly interpreted, has a religious signification. The cry for friendship is but a subdued cry for God.

Sometimes men will invent Gods of their own. This is what was done, practically, by Ahaziah. Men will go out after novel deities. This is what is being done every day--not under that name, but the mere name makes no difference in the purpose of the spirit. Say new enjoyments, new entertainments, new programs, new customs--these, being interpreted as to the heart of them, mean new altars, new helpers, new gods.

It is said of Shakespeare that he first exhausted worlds, and then invented new. That was right. It was but of the liberty of a poet to do so. But it is no part of the liberty of the soul. Necessity forbids it, because the true God cannot be exhausted. He is like His own nature, so far as we know it in the great creation; He is all things in one, gleaming and dazzling as noon-tide, soft and gentle as the balmy wind, strong as the great mountains and rocks, beauteous as the tiny fragrant flowers, musical as the birds that make the air melodious, awful as the gathered thunder which hovers above the Earth as if in threatening.

Who can exhaust nature?

Who can exhaust nature’s God?

Still, the imagination of man is evil continually. He will invent new ways of enjoying himself. He will degrade religion into a mere form of interrogation. This is what Ahaziah did in this instance: “Go, inquire of Baal-zebub, the god of Ekron, whether I shall recover of this disease.” All that we sometimes want of God is that He should be the great fortune teller.

How true it is that Ahaziah represents us all in making his religion into a mere form of question asking--in other words, into a form of selfishness!

The messengers have now come. They have taken their speech from their king, and they are on the road to consult Baal-zebub, the god of Ekron. But who is this who meets them, and who asks:

“Is it not because there is not a God in Israel that ye go to inquire of Baal-zebub, the god of Ekron?”

The men had said nothing about their errand. Who is it that reads the heart night and day, to whom the darkness and the light are both alike, and from the fire of whose eye nothing is hid? How do we get the impression that when we have perfected our lie it is in some sense public property? We are sure the man whom we meet knows it. He looks as if he did.

Elijah is an abrupt speaker. The “hairy man” and “girt with a girdle of leather” did not study the scanning of his sentences. He struck with a battering ram; his interrogations were spears that quivered in the heart; his looks were judgments. What an effect he produced upon these men! Why did they not go past him and say: “Keep thy speeches to thyself, thou hairy man, nor interfere with the king’s messengers”?

We can not do that. We know that some men are not to be turned away so. We may attempt to deceive, evade or disappoint them, but they have a magnetic and most marvelous influence upon us. Though they do not speak in the imperative mood, they speak with imperative force.

The men turned back like whipped children to tell the king what they had heard, and Ahaziah was surprised at their early return. He can not sleep. He asks that the book of the chronicles may be brought, that he may look up events and see where the loop slipped, where the wrong entry was made, or where the minutes were not carried out in detail.

All this means that Elijah lives in some form or other and will meet us and confront us and have it out with us.

Look at the conflict between Ahaziah and Elijah, the Tishbite. Ahaziah is the king and Elijah is only the prophet, and the king ought to have every thing his own way ex-officio. Now we shall see what metal Elijah is made of. He handled kings as if they were little children. He took them up and set them down behind him and said: “Wait there until I return, and stir at your peril.”

The prophet should always be the uppermost man. Kings are nothing compared to teachers and seers--men who hold the judgments of God on commission. The great men of the nation are the prophets, the teachers, the educators of thought, the inspirers of noble sacrificial enthusiasm. See how Elijah tramps among the kings. He has no favor to ask. If he were driven to ask for one morsel of bread, he would be Elijah no more.

Ahaziah sends to Elijah and says: “Come down.” These words sound very commanding and imperative. Elijah answered: “If I be a man of God, then let fire come down from Heaven and consume thee and thy fifty. And there came down fire from Heaven and consumed him and his fifty.”

Look at the conflict and its parties. On the one hand, petulance; on the other, dignity. On the one side, anger--fretful, fuming, petty; on the other, judgment--calm, sublime, comprehensive, final.

Ekron was one of the royal cities of the Philistines. Its situation is pointed out with considerable minuteness in Scripture. It is described as lying on the northern border of Philistia and of the territory allotted to Judah. It stood on the plain between Bethshemesh and Jabneel. Jerome locates it on the east of the road leading from Azotus (Ashdod) to Jamnia (Jabneel). From these notices we have no difficulty in identifying it with the modern village of Akir. Akir stands on the southern slope of a low and bleak ridge or swell which separates the Plain of Philistia from Sharon. It contains about fifty mud houses, and has not a vestige of antiquity except two large and deep wells and some stone water troughs. Ekron means “wasteness.” The houses are built on the accumulated rubbish of past ages, and, like their predecessors, if left desolate for a few years they would crumble to dust. The most interesting event in its history was the sending of the ark to Bethshemesh. A new cart was made and two milch kine yoked to it, and then left to choose their own path; “and they took the straight way to the way of Bethshemesh,” the position of which can be seen in a gorge of the distant mountains eastward. The deity worshiped at Ekron was called Baal-zebub, and we may conclude from the story of Ahaziah that this oracle had a great reputation, even among the degenerate Israelites. Ekron was a large village in the days of Jerome, and also in the age of the crusades.

ASA.

Asa was a good king of Judah. He “did that which was good and right in the eyes of the Lord, his God.” Not only “good and right,” because these might be variable terms. There are persons who set themselves to the presumptuous and impious task of settling for themselves what is “right” and what is “good.”

In the case of Asa, he did not invent a righteousness, nor did he invent a goodness which he could adapt to his own tempers, ambitions and conveniences. He was right and good and “did that which was good and right in the eyes of the Lord, his God.”

While the land had peace, Asa set to work and built walls, towers and fences, and did all that he could for the good of his country.

Zerah, an Ethiopian warrior, did not understand silence. He mistook quietness for languor. He made the vulgar mistake of supposing that quietness was indifference. He did not know that repose is the very highest expression of power.

Zerah brought against Asa, king of Judah, no fewer than a million soldiers--to us a large number, but to the Orientals quite a common array. Zerah’s host was the largest collected army of which we read in Scripture, but it does not exceed the known numbers of other Oriental armies in ancient times. Darius Codomannus brought into the field at Arbela a force of 1,040,000. Xerxes crossed into Greece with certainly above a million combatants. Artaxerxes Mnemon collected 1,260,000 men to meet the attack of the younger Cyrus.

What was to be done? Asa did not shrink from war, though he never courted it. He must meet the foe in battle. Before doing so he must pray.

“Lord, it is nothing with Thee to help, whether with many or with them that have no power. Help us, O Lord, our God, for we rest on Thee; and in Thy name we go against this multitude. O Lord, thou art our God; let not man prevail against Thee.”

Having risen from their knees, they launched themselves against the Ethiopians, and were mighty as men who answer straw with steel. They fought in God’s name and for God’s cause, and the thousand thousand of the Ethiopians were as nothing before the precise and terrific stroke of men who had studied war in the school of God.

The defeat of Zerah is one of the most remarkable events in the history of the Jews. On no other occasion did they meet in the field and overcome the forces of either of the two great monarchies between which they were placed. It was seldom that they ventured to resist, unless behind walls. Shishak, Sennacherib, Esarhaddon, Nebuchadnezzar, Alexander and Ptolemy I. were either unopposed or only opposed in this way. On the other occasion on which they took the field--which was under Josiah against Necho--their boldness issued in a most disastrous defeat.

Asa, then, began upon a good foundation; he established himself upon a great principle. That is what all, young people especially, should take to heart right seriously. Do not make an accident of your lives--a thing without center, purpose, certitude or holiness. Be right in your great foundation lines, and you will build up a superstructure strong, after the nature and quality of the foundation upon which you build. Do not snatch at life. Do not take out an odd motto here and there and say: “This will do for the occasion.” Life should be deeply laid in its bases, strongly cemented together in its principles, noble in its convictions; then it can be charitable in its concessions and recognitions.

“And Asa took courage, and put away the abominable idols out of all the land of Judah and Benjamin, and out of the cities which he had taken from Mount Ephraim, and renewed the altar of the Lord.”

Let us not trifle with the occasion by suggesting that we have no idolatries to uproot, no heathen groves to examine, to purify or to destroy. That would indeed be making light of history and ignoring the broadest and saddest facts of our present circumstances. The world is full of little gods, man-made idols, groves planted by human hands, oppositions and antagonisms to the tried Theism of the universe.

We are apt to think that the idols are a long way off--far beyond seas; or that they existed long centuries ago and spoke languages now obsolete or forgotten.

Nothing of the kind. They live here; they build today. Our gods are a million strong. We do not call them gods, but we worship them none the less. Luck, Accident, Fortune, Fashion, Popularity, Self-Indulgence--these are the base progeny of idols that did once represent some ideal thought and even some transcendental religion. Idolatry has retrograded; polytheism has gone quickly backward.

Asa said, in effect: “We must be right about our gods before we can be right with one another.” That is true teaching. With a wrong theology we never can have a thoroughly sound and healthy economic system.

This was the corner-stone upon which Asa built his great and gracious policy. What was the effect of it upon other people? We find that the effect then was what it must always be:

“They fell to him out of Israel in abundance when they saw that the Lord, his God, was with him.”