The Folly of the Friendly Handshake
Introduction: The Unequal Yoke in Politics
We live in an age of pragmatism. The modern political mind, even among Christians, is often governed by what appears to work, what seems practical, what forms a convenient coalition. We are constantly tempted to make alliances based on a shared enemy rather than a shared Lord. We are told that politics makes strange bedfellows, and we nod along as though this were a biblical proverb. But the Scriptures teach us that while we are to be wise as serpents and harmless as doves, we are never to yoke the church of God to the machinations of the ungodly. The kingdom of God is not advanced by handshakes with the kingdom of darkness.
The story before us is a master class in the anatomy of compromise. It involves two kings. One is Ahab, a man who was the personification of Israel's apostasy, a weak-willed man governed by his wicked wife, Jezebel, and a sworn enemy of the God of Israel. The other is Jehoshaphat, a good king, a reformer, a man who sought the Lord. And this is what makes the story so jarring and so instructive. This is not a story about two wicked men getting together to do wicked things. This is a story about a good man being seduced into the projects of a wicked one, all under the guise of national security and common sense. It is a cautionary tale for every Christian leader, every Christian voter, and every Christian who thinks that a little bit of compromise with evil is a justifiable means to a good end.
The apostle Paul warned the Corinthians, "Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers. For what partnership has righteousness with lawlessness? Or what fellowship has light with darkness?" (2 Cor. 6:14). This is not just marital advice. It is a fundamental principle of worldview warfare. It applies to business partnerships, church unions, and most certainly to military and political alliances. When the people of God forget this, when they decide that the Ahabs of this world are their natural allies against the Arameans of the world, they have already lost the battle before the first arrow is fired.
The Text
So they lived for three years without war between Aram and Israel. Now it happened in the third year, that Jehoshaphat the king of Judah came down to the king of Israel. Then the king of Israel said to his servants, “Do you know that Ramoth-gilead belongs to us, but we are sitting still so as not to take it out of the hand of the king of Aram?” So he said to Jehoshaphat, “Will you go with me to battle at Ramoth-gilead?” And Jehoshaphat said to the king of Israel, “I am as you are, my people as your people, my horses as your horses.”
(1 Kings 22:1-4 LSB)
A Deceptive Peace (v. 1)
We begin with a period of calm.
"So they lived for three years without war between Aram and Israel." (1 Kings 22:1)
The story opens with what the world calls peace. For three years, the swords were sheathed. There was a detente between Aram and Israel. But we must learn to distinguish between the world's peace and God's peace. The world's peace is simply the absence of open hostilities. It is a ceasefire, a political arrangement, a time when both sides are reloading. It is not true shalom. True shalom is not just the absence of conflict, but the presence of righteousness, justice, and flourishing under the blessing of God.
This three-year peace was a dangerous peace. It was a peace that allowed corruption to fester in Israel under Ahab. It was a peace that lulled good men into a false sense of security. A long period of quiet can make you forget who the real enemy is. It can soften your resolve and make you think that the deep, spiritual chasm between the righteous and the wicked is perhaps just a shallow ditch that can be easily crossed for the sake of a common political goal. This peace set the stage for Jehoshaphat's great failure.
A Spiritual Demotion (v. 2)
The first step of the compromise is a journey.
"Now it happened in the third year, that Jehoshaphat the king of Judah came down to the king of Israel." (1 Kings 22:2)
Notice the geography. Jehoshaphat "came down" to the king of Israel. Jerusalem, the city of God, is on a mountain. One always "goes up" to Jerusalem. To go to Samaria, the seat of Ahab's apostate kingdom, was to "go down." This is more than just topography; it is theology. Jehoshaphat, the king of the covenant line of David, was taking a step down, spiritually and politically, to treat with a man who had abandoned that covenant.
A good king has no business seeking counsel or camaraderie in the court of a wicked one. What did Jehoshaphat think he would find there? Spiritual encouragement? Godly wisdom? No, he went down for political reasons. He had already made an alliance with Ahab by having his son marry Ahab's daughter, Athaliah, a woman who would prove to be a venomous serpent in the history of Judah. This visit was the fruit of that initial compromise. Small compromises always lead to larger ones. The first step down makes the next one easier.
The Pragmatist's Plea (v. 3)
Once Jehoshaphat is on Ahab's turf, the trap is sprung. Ahab begins not by addressing Jehoshaphat, but by speaking to his own servants in Jehoshaphat's hearing.
"Then the king of Israel said to his servants, 'Do you know that Ramoth-gilead belongs to us, but we are sitting still so as not to take it out of the hand of the king of Aram?'" (1 Kings 22:3)
This is a masterful piece of manipulation. The argument is entirely pragmatic and appeals to national pride. First, the appeal to rights: "Ramoth-gilead belongs to us." It was one of the cities of refuge, a Levitical city, part of Israel's inheritance from God. On the surface, this is a righteous claim. Ahab is framing this war as an act of reclaiming what is rightfully theirs.
Second, the appeal against sloth: "but we are sitting still." He is accusing his men of passivity, of cowardice. He is stirring them up by questioning their resolve. This is how the devil works. He takes a truth (the land does belong to Israel) and uses it to provoke a sinful action (an unholy alliance to reclaim it). He makes disobedience look like courage and faithfulness look like laziness. He frames the argument in a way that makes it seem that the only two options are foolish inaction or his proposed brand of sinful action.
The Covenantal Capitulation (v. 4)
Having baited the hook, Ahab now turns to Jehoshaphat and makes his pitch directly. The good king's response is immediate and catastrophic.
"So he said to Jehoshaphat, 'Will you go with me to battle at Ramoth-gilead?' And Jehoshaphat said to the king of Israel, 'I am as you are, my people as your people, my horses as your horses.'" (1 Kings 22:4)
Ahab asks a simple question, and Jehoshaphat responds with a complete and total surrender of his covenantal identity. This is one of the most tragic statements ever made by a godly king. Let us break it down. "I am as you are." No, you are not. You are a king in the line of David, a king who has sought the Lord, a king of the people through whom the Messiah will come. He is Ahab, an idolater, a persecutor of God's prophets, a man under divine judgment. To say "I am as you are" is to erase the line God Himself has drawn between the faithful and the unfaithful.
"My people as your people." No, they are not. The people of Judah were, at this time, a people being called back to the law of God. The people of Israel were being led headlong into the worship of Baal. They were kin by blood, yes, but they were divided by worship, which is a far deeper reality. Jehoshaphat yokes the fate of his covenant people to the fate of an apostate nation.
"My horses as your horses." He pledges his military resources to Ahab's cause without condition. He puts the army of Judah under the effective command of a wicked man, to fight a battle that, as we will see, God has not sanctioned. This is the essence of the unequal yoke. It is a complete identification of interests, personnel, and resources with the enemies of God for the sake of a temporal, political goal.
Jehoshaphat's sin was not in wanting Ramoth-gilead back. His sin was in believing that he could link arms with God's enemy to accomplish God's purposes. He fell for the lie of pragmatism. He thought the political enemy (Aram) was more important than the spiritual enemy standing right next to him (Ahab). And for this folly, he would nearly lose his life, and his kingdom would suffer for generations. The lesson for us is plain: never say to the world, "I am as you are." Our identity is in Christ, and that makes all the difference.