Commentary - 1 Kings 1:5-10

Bird's-eye view

This passage opens the final, fraught chapter of David's life. The lion of Israel is old, cold, and seemingly out of touch. Into this power vacuum steps Adonijah, David's eldest surviving son, with a brazen power grab. This is not just a palace squabble; it is a direct challenge to God's revealed will. God had promised the throne to David's line, and had designated Solomon specifically, but Adonijah decides to take matters into his own hands. His rebellion is a textbook case of worldly ambition. He mimics Absalom's earlier coup, gathering the external trappings of kingship, chariots, horsemen, a security detail, and currying favor with key establishment figures like Joab, the hardened general, and Abiathar, the compromised priest. But his conspiracy is defined as much by who is absent as by who is present. The faithful core of David's administration, Zadok the priest, Benaiah the captain, Nathan the prophet, and David's elite warriors, are conspicuously not invited to his coronation feast. This is a picture of two kingdoms in conflict: the kingdom of self-promotion versus the kingdom of divine appointment. Adonijah's attempt is a fleshly, political maneuver, doomed from the start because it ignores the one thing that matters: God's sovereign choice.

The text also provides a crucial and tragic insight into David's own culpability. His failure to discipline his sons, a pattern seen with Amnon and Absalom, is explicitly noted here as a contributing factor. Adonijah's arrogance was cultivated in a home where parental correction was absent. This is a story about the consequences of sin, both personal and political, and it sets the stage for God's grace to triumph through the unlikely exaltation of Solomon, the chosen son.

Outline

Context In 1 Kings

The book of 1 Kings opens at a critical transition point in Israel's history. David, the man after God's own heart, is at the end of his forty-year reign. The nation has been consolidated, its enemies largely subdued, and the promises of the Davidic Covenant are in place. The central question of this opening section is one of succession: who will sit on David's throne? This is not a mere political question, but a redemptive-historical one. The throne of David is the messianic throne, and the legitimacy of the king is tied to God's sovereign decree, not to primogeniture or political maneuvering. This episode immediately establishes the central conflict that will run through Kings and Chronicles: the conflict between the king God chooses and the kings men choose. Adonijah's rebellion serves as a dark backdrop against which Solomon's rightful, God-ordained kingship will shine. It is the first of many such power struggles that will ultimately lead to the division and downfall of the kingdom, demonstrating Israel's constant need for a true and better King.

Key Issues

The Kingdom of Self

At the heart of Adonijah's rebellion is the primordial sin of pride. He "exalted himself, saying, 'I will be king.'" This is the essence of the fall, the desire to be as God, to determine for oneself what is good and right. Adonijah was the next in line by natural succession, but God's kingdom does not operate by the rules of natural succession. It operates by the principle of divine election. From Abel over Cain, Isaac over Ishmael, Jacob over Esau, and David over his older brothers, God has always reserved the right to choose His anointed. Adonijah's sin was not simply wanting to be king; it was wanting to be king on his own terms, by his own strength, and in defiance of God's revealed will concerning Solomon. He builds his kingdom with the tools of the world: military might (chariots and horsemen), political alliances (Joab and Abiathar), and public relations (a great feast). But it is a hollow kingdom, a house built on sand, because it lacks the one essential foundation: the word of the Lord. Every attempt to build a kingdom, whether personal or political, that begins with "I will" instead of "Thy will be done" is a reenactment of Adonijah's folly and is destined for the same ignominious end.

Verse by Verse Commentary

5 Now Adonijah the son of Haggith exalted himself, saying, “I will be king.” So he prepared for himself a chariot and horsemen and fifty men as runners before him.

The action begins with Adonijah's internal decision, which immediately manifests in external action. He exalted himself. This is the root of the problem. Kingship is a gift from God, not a prize to be seized. His declaration, "I will be king," is a declaration of war against God's prerogative. He then immediately apes the style of his rebellious brother Absalom (2 Sam. 15:1). The chariot, the horsemen, the fifty runners, these are the status symbols of a worldly monarch. He is putting on the costume of a king, hoping the reality will follow. This is political theater. He is trying to create an air of inevitability, to look so much like a king that the people will simply accept him as one. But all the pomp and circumstance in the world cannot create a legitimate claim where one does not exist.

6 But his father had never grieved him at any time by asking, “Why have you done so?” And he was also a very handsome man in form, and he was born after Absalom.

The narrator provides a crucial piece of backstory that functions as an indictment of David. Adonijah's rebellion did not spring from a vacuum. It was nurtured by decades of parental indulgence. David had never disciplined him, never once crossed him or called him to account. This is a tragic failure for a man who knew God's law so well. A father who loves his son will discipline him (Prov. 13:24), but David, perhaps out of a misplaced affection or a weariness from his own past sins, let his sons run wild. The mention of his handsomeness and birth order is also significant. Like Absalom, his good looks likely contributed to his vanity and sense of entitlement. And as the next in line after Absalom's death, he would have seen the throne as his natural right. David's passivity created a monster of ambition in his own house.

7 And he had conferred with Joab the son of Zeruiah and with Abiathar the priest; and following Adonijah, they helped him.

A would-be king needs a coalition. Adonijah secures the two most powerful men in the kingdom outside the royal family: Joab, the commander of the army, and Abiathar, one of the two high priests. This was a shrewd political move. Joab was a ruthless pragmatist, a man of blood who had always been loyal to David's power but perhaps not to David's God. With David fading, Joab was likely hedging his bets and siding with who he thought would be the next strongman. Abiathar's defection is more shocking. He was a priest of the line of Eli, who had been loyal to David since the days of his persecution by Saul. His support gave Adonijah's coup a veneer of religious legitimacy. But both men represent the old guard, the established order, clinging to power and ignoring the prophetic word about Solomon.

8 But Zadok the priest, Benaiah the son of Jehoiada, Nathan the prophet, Shimei, Rei, and the mighty men who belonged to David, were not with Adonijah.

The line of division is drawn sharply. While Adonijah has the powerful old guard, he does not have the faithful. Zadok, the other high priest, represents the true priestly line. Benaiah, commander of David's elite bodyguard, represents true military loyalty. And most importantly, Nathan the prophet, the man who carried God's word to David, is not on board. Shimei and Rei are likely other high-ranking officials, and the "mighty men" are David's legendary warriors, the core of his strength from the beginning. Their absence from Adonijah's party is deafening. It tells us that this rebellion is not just a political split, but a spiritual one. Those who are closest to God's revealed will and David's own heart are not part of this conspiracy. Power and position are on one side; faithfulness and the prophetic word are on the other.

9 And Adonijah sacrificed sheep and oxen and fatlings by the stone of Zoheleth, which is beside En-rogel; and he invited all his brothers, the king’s sons, and all the men of Judah, the king’s servants.

The coup goes public. Adonijah hosts a great sacrificial feast, which is both a coronation ceremony and a political rally. The location, near En-rogel, is just outside the city walls, a strategic spot for a public gathering. The sacrifice is meant to sanctify his claim, to wrap his treason in the language of worship. This is a classic move of usurpers, using religious ceremony to legitimize raw ambition. He invites all the key players: his royal brothers (potential rivals he needs to co-opt) and the administrative officials of Judah. This is a broad-based attempt to consolidate support and present his kingship as a done deal.

10 But he did not invite Nathan the prophet, Benaiah, the mighty men, and Solomon his brother.

The narrator repeats the exclusion list, but this time with a crucial addition: Solomon. The omission is glaring and deliberate. Adonijah knows exactly who his rivals are. He excludes the faithful core of his father's administration, and he excludes the one whom God had actually chosen. This is not an oversight; it is a calculated act of rebellion. He is trying to create a new reality by simply ignoring the people who represent the true reality. By not inviting Solomon, he is pretending the divine decree does not exist. But a kingdom built on exclusion and denial of God's word is no kingdom at all. It is a conspiracy of shadows, and the light is about to dawn.

Application

This passage is a potent reminder that God's kingdom is not advanced by worldly means. Adonijah had everything a political strategist could want: a legitimate claim by birth, personal charisma, the backing of the military and the religious establishment, and a well-executed public launch. But he lacked the one thing necessary: God's anointing. This is a permanent warning to the Church against the temptation to trust in princes, in political solutions, in charismatic leaders, or in institutional power. Our strength is not in our numbers, our budgets, or our cultural influence. Our strength is in our faithfulness to the anointed King, Jesus Christ.

Furthermore, David's failure as a father is a sobering lesson for every Christian parent. It is not enough to be a success in the public square if we are failures in our own homes. A refusal to discipline our children, to confront their pride and rebellion with loving, firm, biblical correction, is not kindness. It is a form of spiritual neglect that can cultivate the very arrogance that God opposes. We are called to raise our children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord, which means sometimes we must grieve them by asking, "Why have you done so?" We must do this not to crush their spirit, but to save their souls, pointing them away from the self-exalting path of Adonijah and toward the humble, obedient path of the true Son of David, who did not grasp at equality with God but humbled Himself, even to the point of death on a cross.