The Unmerited Lamp: Covenant Grace in a Crooked Line Text: 1 Kings 15:1-8
Introduction: The Stubbornness of Grace
The book of Kings is a hard book. It is a long, bloody, and often depressing account of the downward spiral of God's covenant people. If you read it straight through, you will encounter a parade of wicked kings, foolish kings, idolatrous kings, and the occasional flash of a good king who, more often than not, still fails to finish well. It is a story of consistent human failure. If the story of God's people depended on the moral performance of its leaders, the lights would have gone out in Israel and Judah long before the Babylonians ever showed up.
And yet, the lights do not go out. That is the central tension and the central glory of this book. In the midst of this sorry record of apostasy and rebellion, we find these strange, stubborn statements of divine grace. We see God, again and again, preserving a remnant, showing mercy, and holding back the full measure of His judgment for a reason that has nothing to do with the man currently on the throne. This is profoundly offensive to our modern sensibilities, which assume that every man stands or falls on his own merits. But the Bible operates on a different economy, the economy of covenant. And in that economy, grace is not just a strange visitor; it is the central operating principle.
This short passage about the reign of Abijam is a perfect case study in this principle. On the surface, it is a grim report card. Abijam is a bad king. He follows in the footsteps of his equally corrupt father. His heart is not right with God. By all rights, his reign should be another nail in Judah's coffin. But then the historian inserts a massive, glorious "but." A "nevertheless." And that "nevertheless" is tethered not to Abijam's character, but to the character of his great-grandfather, David, and more importantly, to the character of the God who made a promise to David. This passage teaches us about the nature of generational sin, the standard of true righteousness, and the glorious, unmerited, covenant-keeping grace of God that shines a lamp in the darkest of places.
The Text
Now in the eighteenth year of King Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, Abijam became king over Judah. He reigned three years in Jerusalem; and his mother’s name was Maacah the daughter of Abishalom. And he walked in all the sins of his father which he had committed before him; and his heart was not wholly devoted to Yahweh his God, like the heart of his father David. But for David’s sake Yahweh his God gave him a lamp in Jerusalem, to raise up his son after him and to establish Jerusalem; because David did what was right in the sight of Yahweh, and had not turned aside from anything that He commanded him all the days of his life, except in the case of Uriah the Hittite. Now there was war between Rehoboam and Jeroboam all the days of his life. Now the rest of the acts of Abijam and all that he did, are they not written in the Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Judah? And there was war between Abijam and Jeroboam. And Abijam slept with his fathers, and they buried him in the city of David; and Asa his son became king in his place.
(1 Kings 15:1-8 LSB)
A Chip Off the Old, Rotten Block (vv. 1-3)
We begin with the standard biographical data and the spiritual assessment of this new king.
"Now in the eighteenth year of King Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, Abijam became king over Judah. He reigned three years in Jerusalem; and his mother’s name was Maacah the daughter of Abishalom. And he walked in all the sins of his father which he had committed before him; and his heart was not wholly devoted to Yahweh his God, like the heart of his father David." (1 Kings 15:1-3)
The historian immediately sets the context. Abijam's reign is synchronized with that of Jeroboam, the apostate king of the northern kingdom. This is a constant reminder of the great schism, the tearing of the kingdom that resulted from Solomon's sin. Abijam's reign is short, just three years, which in the book of Kings is often a sign of divine displeasure. A long reign, like Asa's to follow, is a mark of blessing.
But the crucial information is in verse 3. It gives us two clear reasons for Abijam's failure. First, "he walked in all the sins of his father which he had committed before him." This is the principle of generational sin. Sin is not just a series of isolated, individual choices. It creates patterns, builds structures, and establishes traditions. Rehoboam, Abijam's father, had presided over the establishment of high places, sacred pillars, and Asherim; he had allowed cult prostitutes in the land (1 Kings 14:22-24). He had created a culture of compromise and idolatry. Abijam simply inherited this corrupt spiritual infrastructure and kept it running. He did not have to invent new ways to rebel against God; he just had to walk down the well-trodden path his father had paved for him. This is a sober warning. Fathers, you are always leading your children somewhere. You are either clearing a path toward the Celestial City or you are paving a superhighway to perdition.
The second reason for his failure goes deeper than his actions; it goes to the source. His heart "was not wholly devoted to Yahweh his God." The Hebrew word is shalem, meaning complete, whole, perfect. His heart was divided. He was likely a syncretist, like his grandfather Solomon. He probably maintained the temple worship, went through the motions, and tipped his hat to Yahweh. But other parts of his heart, other corners of his kingdom, were given over to other gods and other priorities. He wanted God, plus other things. But God does not do "plus." He demands to be the undisputed Lord of the manor, not a tenant with a small room in the back.
And notice the standard of comparison. His heart was not devoted "like the heart of his father David." Not like his immediate father, Rehoboam, but like his great-grandfather, the archetypal king. David is the benchmark. This is fascinating, because as we will see in a moment, the Bible is brutally honest about David's own colossal sins. So what does it mean that David's heart was shalem? It means that despite his fall, the fundamental orientation of his life, the deep-seated loyalty of his soul, was entirely for Yahweh. He never flirted with other gods. When he sinned, he sinned against the God he knew and loved, and when confronted, he repented utterly and threw himself on the mercy of that same God. Abijam's sin was apostasy; David's sin was adultery and murder, but it was followed by a whole-hearted return. God is the great heart-reader, and He judges the fundamental trajectory of a man's life.
The Covenantal "Nevertheless" (vv. 4-5)
Just when the verdict seems sealed, the historian pivots on one of the most important words in the Bible.
"But for David’s sake Yahweh his God gave him a lamp in Jerusalem, to raise up his son after him and to establish Jerusalem; because David did what was right in the sight of Yahweh, and had not turned aside from anything that He commanded him all the days of his life, except in the case of Uriah the Hittite." (1 Kings 15:4-5 LSB)
This is pure, unadulterated, covenantal grace. Abijam deserved to have his line cut off. He deserved judgment. But God intervened. Why? "For David's sake." This doesn't mean David had banked so much moral capital that God was obligated to draw from his account. It means God made an unconditional promise to David in 2 Samuel 7, a promise to maintain his dynasty and his throne. God's mercy to Abijam was not earned by Abijam; it was a function of God's faithfulness to a promise He had made to another man, generations earlier.
This is the principle of federal headship in action. God deals with us in terms of representation. And this whole arrangement is designed to point us forward to the ultimate "for David's sake." Why does God show us mercy? Why does He not cut us off in our sin, which is far greater than Abijam's? It is for the sake of another. It is for the sake of David's greater Son, Jesus Christ. God's grace flows to us not because of our performance, but because of His promise to His Son. We are accepted, blessed, and preserved "for Christ's sake."
God gave Abijam a "lamp in Jerusalem." A lamp is a symbol of life, presence, and continuity. As long as the lamp burned, the dynasty was not extinct. The promise was still alive. God was preserving the royal line not for its own sake, but because from this crooked, compromised, and sinful line, the true Light of the World would one day come.
And then, in verse 5, the text grounds the reason for this blessing in David's life, and it does so with unflinching honesty. David did right "except in the case of Uriah the Hittite." The Bible is not a hagiography. It does not airbrush its heroes. It puts their worst sins on full display. This one glaring, bloody exception does not nullify the overall verdict that David's heart was true. But it does show us that the standard for righteousness is not sinless perfection. If it were, David would be disqualified. The standard is a life oriented toward God, a life that when it veers off course, repents and veers back. But this exception also reminds us that even the best of men are still men. David was a man after God's own heart, but he was not the sinless king. He was a placeholder, a signpost pointing to the one who would come and do what was right in the sight of the Lord, with no exceptions.
War and Succession (vv. 6-8)
The passage concludes with a summary of the political and historical realities of Abijam's reign.
"Now there was war between Rehoboam and Jeroboam all the days of his life. Now the rest of the acts of Abijam and all that he did, are they not written in the Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Judah? And there was war between Abijam and Jeroboam. And Abijam slept with his fathers, and they buried him in the city of David; and Asa his son became king in his place." (1 Kings 15:6-8 LSB)
The state of perpetual war is the backdrop to this entire period. The division of the kingdom was not a peaceful separation; it was a constant, simmering conflict. This physical warfare between Judah and Israel was an outward manifestation of the spiritual warfare raging within the hearts of the people and their kings. When God's people are divided from Him, they will inevitably be divided from one another. The civil war was a direct consequence of their spiritual adultery.
The reference to the "Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Judah" is a standard historical note, reminding us that the biblical author is selecting his material for a theological purpose. He is not trying to give us an exhaustive political history; he is giving us a divine commentary on that history. What matters to him is not Abijam's military strategy or economic policy, but the state of his heart before God.
Finally, Abijam dies and is buried, and his son Asa takes his place. Here again we see the covenantal grace of verse 4 in action. God's promise "to raise up his son after him" is fulfilled. Despite Abijam's faithlessness, the lamp is passed to the next generation. And as we will see in the following verses, that lamp will burn much more brightly in the hands of Asa, one of Judah's great reformers. God's grace not only preserved the line, but it prepared the way for revival.
Grace for a Crooked Line
So what do we take from this brief and sordid tale? We learn that God's standards are absolute. A divided heart is an unfaithful heart. We learn that sin has consequences, and that the sins of fathers create ruts in the road that make it easy for their sons to follow them into the ditch.
But the central lesson here is the stubbornness of grace. Our history, like Judah's, is a crooked line of failure, compromise, and sin. We are all Abijams. We walk in the sins of our fathers, and our hearts are not wholly devoted. We deserve to have our lamps extinguished. We deserve to be cut off.
But for David's sake. But for Christ's sake.
That is the gospel in the book of Kings. God looks at us, in our rebellion and half-heartedness, and He does not treat us as our sins deserve. He treats us according to the righteousness of another. He preserves us, He establishes us, and He gives us a lamp, the light of the gospel, not because of who we are, but because of a promise He made to His Son before the foundation of the world.
The story of Abijam is the story of a wicked king who received unmerited grace because he was part of a covenant line. That line was preserved, warts and all, until it produced its final King, Jesus. And now, by faith, we are grafted into that same covenant. We are part of that royal line. And our security rests not on the steadiness of our own hearts, but on the unbreakable promise of God and the finished work of the true and better David. He is the lamp, and He is the reason our light will never go out.