For my weekly quiet time this week, I studied II Kings 18. In this chapter, King Hezekiah of Judah inaugurates religious reforms that the Deuteronomist applauds, and so God prospers Hezekiah, who rebels against the Assyrians and smites the Philistines (thereby depriving the Assyrians of their trade-routes with Egypt, and perhaps also paying the Philistines back for their aggression against Judah during the reign of Hezekiah’s father, Ahaz; see II Chronicles 28:18).
Sennacherib, the King of Assyria, then captures several Judahite cities, and so Hezekiah apologizes for his rebellion and tries to appease Sennacherib by offering tribute. Sennacherib accepts the tribute, but he continues his hostilities: his design is to take the city of Jerusalem.
Sennacherib sends the Rabshakah and two other lackies (along with a great host) to intimidate Jerusalem. The Rabshakeh attempts to discourage the inhabitants of Jerusalem from trusting in God for deliverance.
There are three things that this story brings to my mind:
1. II Kings 18 differs from II Chronicles 32, which contrasts with Isaiah. In II Kings 18, Hezekiah is scared. He tries to appease the Assyrians to make them go away. When he hears about the Rabshakeh’s taunts, he goes before God in desperate prayer. In II Chronicles 32, however, he appears to be calmer and more collected. He takes practical steps to defend Jerusalem, and he encourages the men of the city that God is with them. And yet, Isaiah criticizes Hezekiah’s practical measures, as if they’re indicative of his lack of faith in God (Isaiah 22).
I’m not sure if the facts of these stories are contradictory, though there are scholars who will say that such is the case. Maybe Hezekiah became calmer and more collected after he prayed to God and received assurance. And yet, there was still a deep fear inside of him, which was why he took practical measures to defend the city. But do II Chronicles 32 and Isaiah 22 contradict each other? Although II Chronicles 32 appears to be positive in its portrayal of Hezekiah, it’s interesting that Hezekiah in the Chronicler’s telling didn’t actually get to use the army that he was amassing against Sennacherib, for God took care of the problem himself: God sent an angel to slaughter Sennacherib’s army. Were Hezekiah’s practical defensive measures all for naught?
Personally-speaking, I wonder when I should act, and when I should let God take care of my problems. The wisdom literature of the Bible (e.g., Proverbs) calls for practical actions that can produce good results. But can we get to the point where we idolize our plans, as if they’re what’s taking care of us (Deuteronomy 8:10-18; James 4:13ff)?
2. The Deuteronomist’s message is that righteous-living results in divine reward. But it doesn’t always turn out that way, even in his narrative. In II Kings 18, for example, Hezekiah obeys God, and so God grants him military success. And yet, that military success precedes an onslaught by the Assyrians, which undoes Hezekiah’s gains. According to the Intervarsity Press Bible Background Commentary, an evangelical source, Sennacherib “was able to establish pro-Assyrian governors in Philistia.” And so Hezekiah succeeds, only to fail.
Can we look at our lives and dogmatically say what God is doing? I won’t rule out the possibility. But, when I look at II Kings 18, it seems to me that the Deuteronomist is trying to fit the messiness of real life into his neat paradigm of divine reward and punishment. For the Deuteronomist, the righteous prosper because they’re rewarded by God. In real life, that doesn’t always happen. And real life manages to shine through the Deuteronomist’s narrative!
And yet, who won in the end? Assyria made some gains, but it failed to take Jerusalem, the capital of Judah. And Judah outlasted the Assyrians, who were conquered by the Babylonians. Is military success the primary sign of God’s presence with a people? Maybe God used that success to prolong Judah’s survival and strike some blows at Assyria. God had larger goals in mind than Judah’s military success. He wanted her to survive so she could bring glory to him. She could survive as a strong power, but her survival as a weak power would ensure her continued dependance on God.
I’m reminded of something I saw in the movie Dead Poets’ Society this week. Robin Williams plays Mr. Keating, a charismatic teacher at an elite school for boys. Mr. Keating teaches poetry, and he tells his class that some of them may wonder why they need to study that particular subject, when they plan to go into business. Mr. Keating says that business will help them survive, but poetry will give them a reason for their survival. After all, if you make a bunch of money and achieve a comfortable existence, what do you do then? For Mr. Keating, one thing you can do is find inspiration and wisdom in the great poets.
Similarly, Judah with God’s help survived, but what was the reason for her survival? To enjoy God, to bring glory to him, and to be his instrument. Kingdoms would rise and fall—including the Kingdom of Judah. But her existence and her mission would still remain.
3. In the sermons I heard about II Kings 18, preachers talked about the tendency of non-believers to get Christianity wrong. Nero, for example, said that Christians were cannibals, for he misunderstood the Eucharist. Jon Courson talked about a book that said the Bible is wrong to say that Eve ate an apple, for apples don’t grow in the alleged location of Eden. But, as Jon pointed out, the Bible doesn’t say that the fruit Eve ate was an apple.
In II Kings 18, the Rabshakeh gets something wrong. He says that God won’t protect the Israelites because Hezekiah has removed God’s high places. The Rabshakeh assumes that God was pleased with those high places, as if they existed for God’s glory! But the irony is that God actually wanted those high places to be destroyed.
And yet, the Rabshakeh may get something right. V 34 is puzzling because, in it, the Rabshakeh lists the names of Syrian cities that Assyria has conquered, and asks if their gods delivered Northern Israel. But why would the gods of Syria deliver Northern Israel? They weren’t the gods of Northern Israel! The proposal of the Jewish commentator Rashi is that the Northern Israelites worshipped Syrian gods. The Rabshakeh knew something about Northern Israel’s idolatry.
Anne Rice said something on Frontline recently that intrigued me. She was showing her interviewer her collection of religious works—the Bible, the Talmud, etc. The interviewer said, “So when you talk about religion, you must know what you’re talking about.” Anne Rice replied, “I know what I’m talking about. I’m sure there are people who’d say I don’t know what they’re talking about.”
I found that to be a humble statement. She can only speak for herself. Whether she’s right about what others are saying, however, is uncertain—as is the case with many of us.
Could she have organized Christianity wrong? I have a hard time saying that she does. She is observing fruits in Christianity that she deems intolerant, and she does not want to be a part of that. There has to come some point where we say that something is wrong because it hurts others, right? Hitler may have had personal reasons for doing what he did, and he probably thought he was doing the right thing; but he was wrong.
So, in my opinion, there’s a place for listening to people’s stories to understand where they’re coming from. But there’s also a place for us to look at the effects of certain things, and to determine for ourselves if we deem them to be helpful or hurtful.
Then there’s the possibility that the people of a community aren’t living up to their standards (or at least their standards of benevolence to others) and may have corrupted a good thing. We see that in this chapter, as Hezekiah destroys the Nehushtan, which Moses erected in Numbers 21 to be a source of healing for Israelites; essentially, Israelites since that time worshipped the Nehushtan to get healing, and that displeased God. And we see that sort of thing in organized religion today.