Bird's-eye view
In this brief but telling passage, we find ourselves at the culmination of Solomon’s grand building projects. For two decades, the kingdom has been a flurry of construction, culminating in the house for Yahweh and a house for the king. This is the apex of Solomonic glory, a picture of the kingdom at peace and established. But as is so often the case in the narrative of God's people, just at the moment of apparent triumph, we find a worm in the apple. The transaction between Solomon and Hiram, king of Tyre, reveals the subtle compromises that begin to eat away at the foundations of the kingdom. This is not a story about a simple real estate deal gone sour; it is a story about covenantal boundaries, the wisdom of the world versus the wisdom of God, and the foreshadowing of Israel's eventual exile. What seems like a pragmatic solution to a debt reveals a spiritual laxity that will have long-term consequences.
The deal appears straightforward: Hiram provided the best materials and gold, and Solomon, in return, provides land. But the land is covenant land, part of the inheritance promised to Abraham's seed. And Hiram, a gentile king, is not impressed with the gift. His dismissive naming of the territory as "Cabul" or "good-for-nothing" hangs in the air, a verdict not just on the quality of the real estate, but on the nature of the transaction itself. This is a moment of disillusionment that reveals the limits of political alliances and points to the ultimate futility of trying to secure the kingdom through worldly means. It serves as a crucial hinge in the narrative of Solomon's reign, marking the point where the luster begins to fade and the seeds of future apostasy and division are sown.
Outline
- 1. The Context of the Transaction (1 Kings 9:10-11a)
- a. Twenty Years of Building
- b. Hiram's Faithful Provision
- 2. The Transaction Itself (1 Kings 9:11b-12)
- a. Solomon's Payment: Twenty Cities
- b. Hiram's Inspection and Displeasure
- 3. The Consequence and Memorial (1 Kings 9:13-14)
- a. The Derisive Name: Cabul
- b. The Final Tally of Gold
Clause-by-Clause Commentary
v. 10 Now it happened that at the end of twenty years in which Solomon had built the two houses, the house of Yahweh and the king’s house
The historian sets the stage with this chronological marker. Twenty years. This is a significant chunk of a man's life, and in this case, it represents the zenith of Solomon's reign. He has accomplished the task his father David longed to do: he has built a house for the name of Yahweh. He has also secured his own dynasty with a magnificent palace. On the surface, all is well. The kingdom is established, the promises appear to be fulfilled. This is the fruit of the wisdom God had given him. But time in Scripture is never just about marking duration; it is about maturation, testing, and the slow creep of decay. Twenty years of success can breed a kind of spiritual complacency, a sense of having arrived. And it is right here, at the peak, that the first signs of trouble appear.
v. 11 (Hiram king of Tyre had supplied Solomon with cedar and cypress timber and gold according to all his desire), that King Solomon then gave Hiram twenty cities in the land of Galilee.
Here is the deal. The parenthetical note reminds us of the backstory. Hiram had been a steadfast partner. He provided the raw materials for God's house and the king's house. He gave Solomon everything he wanted, "according to all his desire." This phrase is important. Solomon's desires were met. And now, the bill comes due. Solomon's payment is not in silver or grain, but in real estate. Twenty cities in the land of Galilee. Now, on one level, this seems like a kingly and generous payment. But we must stop and ask a question that an Israelite would have asked immediately: does Solomon have the right to do this? The land was not his to give away. It was Yahweh's land, apportioned by lot to the tribes of Israel as a perpetual inheritance (Lev. 25:23). To hand over a portion of this inheritance to a pagan king, no matter how friendly, is to treat the holy as if it were common. It is a pragmatic, political solution that ignores the covenantal nature of the land. This is the wisdom of the world, which knows how to settle accounts, but it is not the wisdom from above.
v. 12 So Hiram came out from Tyre to see the cities which Solomon had given him, and they were not right in his eyes.
Hiram, the worldly king, comes to inspect his new property. He is a man who understands value, cedar, cypress, gold. He is a master of commerce. And when he sees what Solomon has given him, he is unimpressed. They were "not right in his eyes." The Hebrew is blunt. He didn't like them. This is a profound moment of anticlimax. Solomon, the wisest man on earth, the glorious king, makes a deal, and the other party is disappointed. This is not how the story is supposed to go. The gentile king was supposed to be overwhelmed by the wisdom and magnificence of Israel's king, confessing that the report he had heard was not even half the truth. But here, the gentile king is underwhelmed. The transaction, which was already a covenantal compromise on Solomon's part, doesn't even achieve its pragmatic goal of satisfying his creditor. Sin and compromise are always a bad bargain. You sell your birthright for a mess of pottage, and you find that the pottage is cold.
v. 13 And he said, “What are these cities which you have given me, my brother?” So they were called the land of Cabul to this day.
Hiram's question drips with contempt. "What are these cities?" He addresses Solomon as "my brother," a term of diplomatic parity, but here it has a sharp, ironic edge. Some brother, to pass off this worthless land on me. He then gives the land a name that will stick: Cabul. The exact meaning is debated, but the context makes the sentiment clear. It is a name of disgust. It likely means something like "good-for-nothing" or "worthless." This name becomes a permanent memorial to a botched transaction. Every time an Israelite would refer to the land of Cabul, they would be reminded of the time their great king traded a piece of their inheritance for a gentile's sneer. It is a standing monument to the fact that when you compromise with the world, you not only displease God, you often fail to impress the world as well.
v. 14 And Hiram sent to the king 120 talents of gold.
This final verse can be read in a couple of ways. It could be that this gold was part of the original deal, and the historian is simply summarizing the accounts. Or, and this seems more likely given the context of Hiram's displeasure, this is Hiram's final word on the matter. Despite his disappointment with the cities, he sends the gold anyway. It is as if he is saying, "Keep your worthless towns. I will fulfill my end of the bargain, but don't think you've pulled one over on me." The deal is concluded, but the relationship is soured. The glory of the transaction is gone. Solomon got his gold, but he gave up a piece of the holy land and received a rebuke from a pagan king in the process. This is the beginning of the decline. The man who started by asking for wisdom to govern God's people is now making unwise deals that alienate his allies and compromise his covenantal obligations. It is a solemn reminder that great wisdom and great blessing are no guarantee against great folly.
Application
This passage is a potent warning against the allure of pragmatism in the Christian life. Solomon had a problem, a debt to pay, and he found what looked like a sensible, efficient solution. He would pay with land. But God's people are not called to be merely pragmatic; we are called to be faithful. Our decisions cannot be made on a simple cost-benefit analysis. We must always ask the covenantal question: Is this righteous? Does this honor the boundaries God has set? Solomon treated a portion of the Promised Land as a mere commodity, a bargaining chip, and in so doing, he devalued the gift of God.
We do the same thing when we treat our time, our money, our bodies, or our children as if they are our own to do with as we please. They are not. They are gifts from God, held in trust, to be managed according to His Word. When we compromise on schooling for our children for the sake of convenience, or on our business ethics for the sake of profit, or on our sexual purity for the sake of momentary pleasure, we are trading cities in Galilee. We are making a deal that seems wise in our own eyes, but which is "Cabul", worthless, in the grand scheme of things.
And notice the result. Hiram was not impressed. The world is never ultimately impressed by Christians who try to be just like them. They have a keen nose for hypocrisy and compromise. When we trade our distinctiveness for a seat at their table, we find that they despise us for it. They wanted the real thing, and we offered them a cheap imitation. The only thing that will win the world is a joyful, uncompromising faithfulness to Jesus Christ. When we stand on the Word of God, when we honor the covenant, when we refuse to sell our inheritance for a bowl of worldly stew, we may be considered fools, but we will have a power and an integrity that the world cannot ignore. Let us learn from Solomon's misstep, and resolve to treat the holy things of God as holy, and never trade the eternal for the temporary.