1&2 Samuel, 1&2 Kings (1&2 Chronicles)

1&2 Samuel, 1&2 Kings (1&2 Chronicles)

By Adrian Peetoom

I have put the books 1&2 Chronicles in brackets, suggesting they could be skipped for now. Given my invitation to read through the Old Testament for the purpose of capturing the “grand narrative” of it, these two books do not add substantially to the story. Moreover, they are filled with details that seem less than compelling, long lists of names and details of both temple building and dedication ceremonies.  

These books also present interpretive difficulties that need not concern us now. I Chronicles seems to over- glorify David both as ruling king and worship leader of his people.  While some details mirror what we find in the books of Samuel and Kings, it is remarkable that the only David negative in 1 Chronicles is the story of the census. Not a word about David’s adultery with Bathsheba and murder of her husband, for instance. Similarly, in the first half of II Chronicles Solomon becomes larger than life, and even here no mention is made of, for instance, Solomon’s large harem, the source of the idolatry that crept into Israel’s life. It seems that the redactors wanted to re-write the books of Samuel and Kings for the purpose of inspiring the post-Exilic Israelites to pursue old glory as represented in kings like David and Solomon. (On a personal note, when in 2010 Johanna and I spent two weeks in Israel, we resided in a furnished apartment on King Solomon Road in Tel Aviv, and we felt part of ancient history!)

 

All six books contain accounts of Israel as an established nation. Lots of history. They span the time from the last Judge (also called seer) Samuel through the many kings to the end of Israel’s independence.  A time of many kings, first of the 12-tribe nation, and after the post-Solomon schism, of the kings of Israel (10 tribes in the north) and those of Judah (2 tribes in the south).  Judging by the attention paid to them, the major kings were:

  •  Saul, David and Solomon, kings of the united nation.
  • A variety of subsequent kings, some better than others (e.g.  Hezekiah and Josiah in Judah).

In the way these stories were read and told to me when I was young, the kings were the centre of attention, a mosaic of good guys and bad guys. One could read the accounts that way, guided by the underlying motif of “do good and you will be rewarded; do bad and you will be punished.” But Walter Brueggemann, noted Old Testament scholar, reads these books with a somewhat different set of glasses. The stories of all those kings, he maintains, even of the good guys, are but a background for the Word of God represented not in the kings but in the prophets, the major ones being Samuel, Nathan, Elijah, Micaiah, Elisha, and Isaiah. If you want to learn the “lessons” of these books, then hear those prophets speak in their circumstances. Almost invariably they condemned the life as unfolded before their eyes, and called their people back to a holy life, the life for which Yahweh had chosen them.  For now I have bought into that way of reading these lengthy books, and with those glasses I’ll draw attention to some of the highlights.

These books also let us know that during the years described many changes occurred in this strip of land. Israel changed from a collection of scattered tribes via a successful nation (under David and Solomon) into two kingdoms that are basically pawns in the shifting dominances of the Middle East: Egypt to the south, Aram (Syria) to the north, and Assyria, Babylonia and Persia to the east as major players.  Compare the way Saul became king, for instance, with what we read in 2 Kings about the reign of Josiah, with accounts, a range of skills, and clearly a far more sophisticated court and bureaucracy.

Those changes also left their mark on the office of prophet. Samuel is still a judge-prophet in the tradition of the book of Judges. While he represents the voice of God, he is also some form of civil authority, the wise judge Israelites turned to when in (legal) conflict with each other.

However, Nathan, Elijah, Micaiah and Elisha seem to have filled different functions. More religious, social and political critics whose voices are alternatives to the “empire,” that is the political power as residing in the courts of kings. But then, they lived in times when there was a court, and a sequence of kings.  These prophets pounce on injustice, idolatry and presumed royal privilege when these overwhelm ordinary folks.  But their voices seem to assume that when kings once again realize that they can do better, life can exhibit the shalom God chose his People for way back in Egypt. In other words, these prophets (by and large) call attention to the past.

With Isaiah at the end of 2 Kings we become acquainted with another shift in the office of prophets. For Isaiah goes beyond calling kings back to obedience, to a restoration of God’s Covenant with Moses, Joshua and Solomon. He begins to point to a different future, a new one. Or as one commentator has observed, from now on all prophetic words will have an eschatological edge. I’ll come back to that when we consider the major and minor prophets.

With these motifs in the back of our minds, let’s read through these books.

1 Samuel     

Chapters 1-8: focus on Samuel

Samuel is one of those Old Testament figures whose birth receives special attention (like Isaac, the Isaac twins, and Samson).  As we read about him growing up, we also get a glimpse of life around him, at first life much as in the time of Judges. The Philistines (living mostly on Canaan’s west coast), apparently a more sophisticated people, are constant thorns in the sides of Israel’s scattered tribes.[1] All the surrounding kingdoms provide invitations to idolatry – notably worship of Baal. But when it appears that Samuel’s sons, like Eli’s sons, are not a next generation of to-be-trusted leaders, tribal chiefs take stock. They want an end to chaos and uncertainty. Their answer: a king (like all the other nations).  Not just another judge, however meritorious such a one may be. A king, in a city, in a palace, with a standing army and chariots. Making Israel look just like other nations (see the end of Judges and also I Samuel 8:20). That’s their answer.  (But wasn’t the whole point of Israel’s existence as a Chosen People that it would NOT be like all other nations?)

Samuel demurs. He feels the rejection of his own long service to these people. Yahweh agrees, but points out that is not only Samuel who is rejected, but Yahweh himself. In chapter 8 spokesperson Samuel tells the elders what they might expect from a king. In the rest of the books of Samuel and Kings those predictions come to pass, especially in the reigns of Solomon and his son.

Chapters 8-15: Samuel and Saul

We might well ask: would it have been possible in Israel’s development not to have had a king? Perhaps. But remember that these books were written centuries later during and after the Exile, and with theological hindsight. The writer(s) could not dodge the reality that these tales were framed by unstoppable international developments. Middle East trade and transportation were growing in importance. Canaan, this narrow strip of land hemmed in by sea and desert, became increasingly important as a trade route between Egypt to the south and countries such as Aram (Syria) to the north.  We see that development acknowledged in these tales, mostly between the lines. Under the Judges Israel wasn’t a nation but a collection of tribes that seemed to have little contact with each other, easy prey for invaders from either south or north. To remain independent, the twelve tribes needed a more centralized authority, political, military and religious, to coordinate joined action. These books, while not explicit about this transition, give us enough glimpses of it. Saul is still little more than a tribal leader who for a while continues to be a farmer’s son, until circumstances force him to concentrate into fulltime kingship.  But then he becomes mainly a fighting king, a general constantly engaged in battles. (It seems that that kingly life led him into depression and irrational behavior!) We don’t hear him being busy establishing better justice – Samuel seems to have continued to be a judge, concerned with the welfare of God’s people. Whatever dumb things Saul may have done, I continue to feel somewhat sorry for him. The portrait of Saul lets us see a culture in transition under the influence of forces over which not even a king has much control. We also read of prophets (I Sam 19) and priests (I Sam. 21) operating in various religious sites (Siloh, Nob), but when the Jerusalem temple is ready national liturgy will become focused on Jerusalem only. All matters to be noted, but for purposes of this reading better left to scholars.

Chapters 16-end of 2 Samuel: The reign of David

It also takes David (shepherd) time to develop his kingship, although by the end of his reign the tribes have become far more glued together as a nation. At a cost, as the narrative makes clear, especially in life after David’s death under Solomon.

Taken from behind the sheep, David first becomes both a court musician and a warrior. For a time he serves Saul directly, and for a time he is a mercenary for even a Philistine king although careful not to attack his own people.  After the death of Saul he gradually establishes his authority over all twelve tribes, expands Israel’s territory, and begins to fulfill Samuel’s predictions as he equips himself with a capital, a palace, a standing army, and alliances with other kings (marrying their daughters and establishing the beginnings of a harem). No Old Testament human figure gets more press than David.

And what do we learn from reading his “biography?” That David was a devoted servant of Yahweh inclined to make holy decisions (see 2 Samuel 7:18ff). However, at other times (aping kings beyond his borders as Samuel had foretold) he acted unwisely if not sinfully. The point is, that especially through this king, the first “complete” king of Israel, we get to see the care-anger-mercy of David’s God.  That is what I meant when I said earlier that the writer(s) of these books wrote with a theology in mind, namely the ever-presence of Yahweh, though sometimes silent and hidden. In the end Samuel was proven wrong (at least in part), when he predicted that “When that [bad] day comes, you will cry aloud because of the king you have chosen for yourself, but on that day Yahweh will not hear you (8:18).” The truth is that every time when Israel cried out, Yahweh did hear them and came to their aid.

For who stopped Saul in his often wrong tracks? Samuel, both judge (seer) and prophet.  And who stopped David from becoming an out and out Eastern potentate? The prophet Nathan, the voice of Yahweh.  We do well to attend to the David-Nathan relationship.

We meet this prophet first in II Samuel 7, when David produces the wish for a temple in Jerusalem, a place for Yahweh at least equal to his own palace (5:11). But after first agreeing with his king, Nathan is instructed by Yahweh to demur. Always keep Samuel’s kingship predictions in mind, and with that in mind let Nathan’s words sink in. Yahweh’s words seem to fall short of an endorsement of temple building even for David’s son.  It seems that not a temple, but a David dynasty will mark Yahweh’s presence in the Promised Land.

And here a bit of reflection seems in order. More than one Old Testament commentator observes that a certain tension marks the history of Israel, a tension between kings and temple on the one hand, and the Torah on the other, or between “Aaron” and “Moses,” between Israel’s soul represented in both Jerusalem palace and temple on the one hand, and practicing a national holy life, a Torah life, on the other. As others have observed (e.g. French philosopher Jacques Ellul), cities tend to oppress rural areas, and cities thrive on palaces and temples. That tension begins to play a role with David, and is on display in many of the later prophets (as it is between the NT gospel lines).  As we well know from reflections on modern political developments, central  “capitals” tend to draw power onto themselves and make their own life the standard by which all other regions are to be judged, and often oppressed. It should not surprise anyone that as we read these accounts, tribal identities are weakened. Moreover, landownership becomes a matter of landlords and city-dwelling landowners who oppress land workers and tenants, a violation of what Moses had taught his people. The story of Ahab and Naboth’s vineyard is a good example (2 Kings 21).

The second Nathan encounter is found in 2 Samuel 12, after David’s sin with Bathsheba and Uriah. (Notice in passing that Uriah is a Hittite, not a son of one of Israel’s tribes, and if Bathsheba was an Israelite daughter, she should not have married Uriah according to the Torah!) What I find interesting in Nathan’s facing David is that he cites Yahweh’s great favour to David as background for Yahweh’s judgment (12:7-9). No specific citing of the 6th and 7th commandments. As in other parts of the Old Testament (and in the New), when reminders are needed to the essence of Yahweh we do not get abstract theology or philosophy, but a recalling of Yahweh’s doings with his People, individually but more often communally.

The third meeting with Nathan occurs in 1 Kings, when the editors specifically mention that one of David’s sons does not invite Nathan to a “party,” but Nathan understands what is happening politically, and he lets key people know.  And we need not admire his scheming on the side of Bathsheba!

1 Kings chapters 1-11, the reign of Solomon

Already in the course of David’s long life Israel has been transformed from a loose collection of scattered tribes to a federation with a clear political centre, the strategically commanding city of Jerusalem.  Under Solomon the next centralizing step is taken, namely to make Jerusalem also the national religious command post. The pattern is made explicit in 1 Kings 3.

I keep having I Samuel 8 in mind, Samuel’s kingship warnings. And also this impression, established as I heard the Solomon stories as a child at home, in church, and in the Christian elementary school I attended for six years. While I always liked David, his feats as well as his clay feet, I had my doubts about Solomon. Sure he is portrayed as having been wise, and who doesn’t love his babies judgment (1 Kings 3:16-28). But my doubts get a boost when I read that at the beginning of his reign he becomes the son-in-law of Pharaoh, king of Egypt. Notice how that gets mentioned before specific mention is made of him marrying. Politics before love? And marrying a woman not of the Covenant, one who would bring with her a culture alien to the Torah. Bad move.

As the early chapters of his reign make clear, Solomon was smart, very smart. Following in the footsteps of his Dad, he expanded Israel’s territory and made its borders secure. Chapter 5:9-14 extols his ruling virtues, and yes, the Bible attributes “wisdom” to him, as also expressed in his achievements as a collector of proverbs and poet. But I cannot overcome doubts about him as I read his whole 40-year story and that of his son Rehoboam.  What is wise about the burdens he extracts from his citizens for the purposes of manifesting his power as ruler, his architecture of Jerusalem (ramparts, palaces and temple), his international alliances and his lifestyle (1000 concubines indeed!)?  Yes, I understand what the writers of these books tried to accomplish, namely to instill in the Jews in Exile a sense of pride and hope, by recalling fore them their history. On the other hand, wisdom (as I see it) has little to do with prestige and power. Ultimately for a Yahweh (and Jesus) follower wisdom is being secure in one’s right relationship with God and one’s neighbor. Wisdom is understanding one’s situation in the world as framed by those relationships as God tells us they should be. So sometimes I think: those old writers who left us this Solomon account had their tongues firmly planted in their cheeks. There’s plenty of irony here, sacred (and underneath it, sad) irony perhaps.  Notice also that there is no mention of prophets in Solomon’s lifetime – he clearly was his own prophet (and priest?).

Two nations out of one: 1 Kings chapters 12-16.

Sad tales. Notice how Solomon was portrayed as having a direct line with God (he didn’t need a prophet), but his son Rehoboam does (“Shemaiah, man of God” – 12:22). From now on prophets will be the voice of God to kings. Also in the north (two of them in chapter 13).

Elijah and Ahab: 1 Kings chapters 17-end

Ahab turned out to have been a powerful and skillful king of Israel, at least as judged by the standards of contemporary politics. Smart on the battlefield and smart in diplomacy. Samaria more than a rival for Jerusalem. But not in the eyes of Yahweh as represented in the presence of Elijah.  “And indeed there never was anyone like Ahab for double dealing and for doing what is displeasing to Yahweh, urged on by Jezebel his wife. He behaved in the most abominable way…”(21:25).

What I find interesting in Elijah is the portrayal of him as a permanent opposition to the king. He has become much more prominent than Nathan was in relationship to David. In this time (and in the portrayal of Elijah’s successor Elisha) kings have become distanced from Yahweh. Those two prophets have become a sort of permanent opposition, voices that call kings to account. As has the prophet Micaiah (chapter 22), who speaks in opposition to a court prophets who merely mouth what the king wants to hear (22:6ff).  These passages are the ones that make Brueggemann conclude that these books are first and foremost about prophets, not kings, at least with respect to hearing the Word of God in these stories. Foreshadowed is New Testament language of Empire as compared with the Kingdom of God.

That vocabulary compellingly arises out of the story of Naboth, Ahab and the family vineyard (I Kings chapter 21). Notice that Naboth cites his “ancestral heritage” (3), Israel’s holiness land structure, the way land ownership is never absolute but always a gift of God. It’s a wonderful (though tragic) story to boot. A clear case of Torah against kingly and urban dominance.

2 Kings, the road to Exile for both Judah and Israel

First, the Elisha cycle, chapter 1-12

While Elisha’s is Elijah’s chosen (and trained) successor, he is portrayed as having a style of his own. He doesn’t seem as feisty a figure as his predecessor, and more of a consultant wonder worker. Perhaps, as the political and social conditions in Israel were rapidly going downhill, his is the channel of God’s voice in Israel, a voice more hidden and behind the scenes, even less heard in court, though at times no less influential.  He also is portrayed as part of a larger group of prophets, though Elisha is clearly a first among equals. [2] The Elisha account contains two stories that illustrate the point. I have I loved and pondered both “from my youth on.”

The first is found in chapter 5, the healing of Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram (Syria).  It’s a story full of subtleties and worth reading with close attention to the text. I have heard many a sermon on this story, and invariably the preachers focused on the power of grace in the life of this gentile general, and the simplicity of it (“merely bathe in the Jordan”).  And usually the sermon account paid little or no attention to the matter past verse 19. But here I invoke Walter Brueggemann again (in spirit, because I have never read how he deals with this story).

First, isn’t it utterly remarkable that Naaman is portrayed as successfully raiding Israel, more or less regularly the text seems to imply. He is successful because Yahweh has granted him success in raiding God’s special people!

Second, his wife’s Jewish slave girl knows of a possible way to a cure for Naaman’s serious skin disease, healing found in the very place Naaman has helped to damage. Notice that she doesn’t call Elisha by name, but calls him “the prophet of Samaria,” the capital of Israel and residence of Israel’s king. (Though Elisha does not seem to have lived in the capital city.)

Third, when Israel’s king receives Naaman and reads the letter of Aram’s king, he dissolves in fear. Granted, the letter to him makes him out to be a possible healer which he knew he couldn’t be, but did he not know that there was a healing prophet in the land? Had Israel’s king drifted that far away from his past, and from a sense of being still part of the People chosen by God to be unique in the world? This revelation ought to fill us with a profound sadness.

Fourth, there is the remarkable dispensation Elisha gives this Aram general: Naaman is allowed to accompany his master into a pagan temple for worship! An Old Testament case of flexibility, one St. Paul will later adopt as he deals with meat offered to idols in his day. Reminded me also that 4th century CE St. Patrick did not hesitate to use local pagan Celtic symbols and holy places for the promotion of the gospel in Ireland.

Fifth, the story isn’t finished when Naaman returns to his king. For I read what happens to servant Gehazi as a story lament for what the writers saw as Israel’s despair in those days, a rot that would soon lead to Israel being deported to the east.  Gehazi  buys into the lifestyle of Israel’s powerful people, namely in becoming deceitful and rich (he got an awful lot of money judging by verse 26). And this man has been a trusted servant of Elisha for a long time already! Israel’s king and Gehazi are two peas in a secular pod.

My conclusion: this story is not primarily about Naaman, not about a miracle, not about grace, but about judgment addressed to the idolatrous state of Israel’s national existence.

The second outstanding tale is found in chapter 6, in the story of the Aramaeans (that is the Syrians) attacking Israel. Those folks got frustrated, for apparently Elisha knew in advance where they would raid, and thus was able to warn his own king. So the Aramaean king decides to eliminate Elisha, but Elisha captures his whole army instead. And then follows an astonishing ending, one most unusual in that kind of violent and raiding climate. When Israel’s king suggests he kill them all, Elisha instead makes him arrange a banquet, and sent them back to their own king. Blessed are the peacemakers! That seems even better than turning the other cheek. It’s downright cheeky!

Earlier I mentioned two “good guy” kings, namely Hezekiah and Josiah. Both are lauded for their efforts to drag their people back to the life Yahweh intended for them.

Hezekiah (18:5): “No king of Judah after him could be compared with him – nor any of those before him.

Josiah (23:25): “No king [of Judah] before him turned to Yahweh as he did, with all his heart, all his soul, all his strength, in perfect loyalty to the Law of Moses ; nor did any king like him arise again.”

Even so, both kings are shown to have been powerless in the face of international politics and then then dominance of the area by the Assyrians.  By this time the Israelite kingdom had already been overtaken by that power (18:11). Mind you, powers from the south (“Cush” probably meaning Ethiopia – 19) had their eye on this valuable trade corridor as well.

In the story of Hezekiah Isaiah shows up. I mentioned how with Isaiah a new prophetic element comes to the fore, and we get a glimpse of that in 19:29-31, as well as in 20:16-17. Notice there is talk about a “remnant,” “new roots,” “survivors.”  I mentioned that from Isaiah on prophets have an eschatological edge, a pointing to a future different from present and past. We’ll meet much more of this as we’ll look at those prophets in a bit more detail.

The story of Josiah also contains points worth noting. First, the presence of Hulda, a woman prophet! (22:11ff). Second, the “discovery” of the Book of the Law, and Josiah’s putting that book into practice. How much both kingdoms of Israel and Judah had succumbed to a syncretistic form of faith (Yahweh mixed in with the pagan gods of the area) is richly documented in chapter 23, an astonishing account of un-holiness. Most telling is the following revelation. “No Passover like this had even been celebrated since the days when the judges ruled Israel, nor throughout the entire period of the kings of Israel and the kings of Judah. The eighteenth year of King Josiah was the only time when such a Passover was celebrated in Yahweh’s honour in Jerusalem.” (23:21-23.)

We’ve reached the end of these historical books. You may have noticed that the Assyrians are no longer the dominant force in the area, but the Babylonians and that major figure king Nebuchadnezzer. We’ll meet him again in the Book of Daniel.



[1] I have never understood the use of “philistine” as indicating lack of sophistication. All archeological indications are that these migrants from Crete and other Mediterranean islands were far more sophisticated than the Hebrews.

[2] How these collections of prophets functioned is a matter for Old Testament experts to tell us, but not vital in the narrative reading of the Old Testament at this point.