The Theology of a Donkey's Head: Text: 2 Kings 6:24-31
Introduction: The High Cost of Rebellion
We live in an age that has mastered the art of blaming everyone but ourselves for the consequences of our own foolishness. When the economy tanks, we blame the politicians. When our children rebel, we blame the schools. When our souls are empty, we blame the universe. Modern man is a master finger-pointer, and his index finger is always extended outward, never inward. He is an expert at diagnosing the splinter in his brother's eye while remaining blissfully unaware of the sequoia protruding from his own.
This is not a new problem. It is the ancient, pathetic bleating of Adam in the garden: "The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate." Notice the genius of it. He blames the woman, and by implication, he blames God for giving him the woman. This is the oldest play in the book of human rebellion, and we find it being staged with horrific, graphic detail in our text today.
The scene is Samaria, the capital of the northern kingdom of Israel. The city is under siege, locked in the iron grip of Ben-hadad, king of Aram. But we must be clear. The ultimate cause of this suffering is not the Aramean army. The Arameans are merely the rod of God's anger, the instrument of His judgment. The real cause is the rampant, unrepentant idolatry of Israel. They had abandoned the living God for the dead idols of the surrounding nations. They had broken covenant with Yahweh, and now they were reaping the whirlwind. The curses of the covenant, laid out in graphic detail in Deuteronomy 28, were coming to pass with terrifying precision. And one of the most horrific of those curses was this: "You shall eat the fruit of your womb, the flesh of your sons and daughters... in the siege and in the distress with which your enemies shall distress you" (Deut. 28:53).
What we are about to read is not just an unfortunate historical event. It is a theological lesson written in the ink of starvation and human misery. It is a demonstration of what happens when a people reject God's law and then have the audacity to be outraged at the predictable consequences. It is a case study in the anatomy of impenitent blame-shifting.
The Text
Now it happened afterwards, that Ben-hadad king of Aram gathered all his military camp and went up and besieged Samaria. Now there was a great famine in Samaria. And behold, they besieged it, until a donkey’s head was sold for eighty shekels of silver, and a fourth of a kab of dove’s dung for five shekels of silver. As the king of Israel was passing by on the wall, a woman cried out to him, saying, “Save, my lord, O king!” He said, “If Yahweh does not save you, from where shall I save you? From the threshing floor, or from the wine press?” And the king said to her, “What is the matter with you?” And she said, “This woman said to me, ‘Give your son that we may eat him today, and we will eat my son tomorrow.’ So we boiled my son and ate him; and I said to her on the next day, ‘Give your son, that we may eat him’; but she has hidden her son.” Now it happened that when the king heard the words of the woman, he tore his clothes, now he was passing by on the wall, and the people looked, and behold, he had sackcloth beneath on his body. Then he said, “May God do so to me and more also, if the head of Elisha the son of Shaphat remains on him today.
(2 Kings 6:24-31 LSB)
The Economics of Judgment (v. 24-25)
We begin with the historical situation and its brutal economic reality.
"Now it happened afterwards, that Ben-hadad king of Aram gathered all his military camp and went up and besieged Samaria. Now there was a great famine in Samaria. And behold, they besieged it, until a donkey’s head was sold for eighty shekels of silver, and a fourth of a kab of dove’s dung for five shekels of silver." (2 Kings 6:24-25)
The siege is a military tactic designed to starve a city into submission. It is a slow, grinding, and merciless form of warfare. And it is working. The result is a "great famine." The text gives us the inflation rates, and they are staggering. A donkey's head, something unclean and with barely any meat on it, goes for eighty shekels of silver. This is an exorbitant price, likely several years' wages for a common laborer. Even more shocking, a small portion of "dove's dung" sells for five shekels. Commentators debate whether this was used for fuel or perhaps as a desperate, last-resort food source. The point is not to get bogged down in the details of their grotesque menu. The point is that the economy has completely collapsed under the weight of God's judgment.
This is what sin does. It promises freedom and feasting, but it delivers bondage and starvation. Israel wanted to be like the other nations, and so God gave them over to the cruelty of the other nations. They rejected the Bread of Heaven, and so God gave them dove's dung. We must understand that God's judgments are not arbitrary. They are fitting. They are a form of ironic, poetic justice. When a society abandons God's economic principles of honest work, sound money, and private property, it inevitably descends into a state where worthless things become priceless and precious things, like children, become worthless.
A Cry from the Wall (v. 26-29)
The king, Jehoram, is inspecting the city's defenses when the horror of the situation confronts him personally.
"As the king of Israel was passing by on the wall, a woman cried out to him, saying, 'Save, my lord, O king!' He said, 'If Yahweh does not save you, from where shall I save you? From the threshing floor, or from the wine press?'" (2 Kings 6:26-27 LSB)
A woman cries out for salvation. The king's response is, on the surface, theologically correct. He acknowledges that true salvation comes from Yahweh alone, and that his own resources, the threshing floor and wine press, are empty. He is right, but for all the wrong reasons. His statement is not one of humble faith, but of cynical despair. It is the kind of religious talk that godless politicians use when they want to absolve themselves of responsibility. He is saying, "Don't look at me. My hands are tied. This is God's fault." He names Yahweh, but he does not know Him. He speaks of God's sovereignty, but only as an excuse for his own impotence.
He then asks the woman what her problem is, and she tells him. The story she recounts is the absolute nadir of human degradation.
"And she said, 'This woman said to me, ‘Give your son that we may eat him today, and we will eat my son tomorrow.’ So we boiled my son and ate him; and I said to her on the next day, ‘Give your son, that we may eat him’; but she has hidden her son.'" (2 Kings 6:28-29 LSB)
Let the sheer horror of this sink in. This is not just hunger; this is the complete collapse of the moral universe. The maternal instinct, one of the most powerful forces in creation, has been inverted. Mothers have become monsters. They have made a pact, a covenant of cannibalism. And the dispute brought before the king is not about the abomination of eating their children, but about a breach of contract. The woman is not crying out in repentance for her sin; she is crying out for justice because her neighbor cheated her out of her agreed-upon meal. This is where sin takes you. It devours everything, starting with your own children.
Sackcloth and a Sword (v. 30-31)
The king's reaction is dramatic, but utterly misdirected.
"Now it happened that when the king heard the words of the woman, he tore his clothes, now he was passing by on the wall, and the people looked, and behold, he had sackcloth beneath on his body. Then he said, 'May God do so to me and more also, if the head of Elisha the son of Shaphat remains on him today.'" (2 Genesis 6:30-31 LSB)
First, we see the outward show of repentance. He tears his clothes. The people see that he is already wearing sackcloth, the traditional garment of mourning and repentance. But this is a superficial, external piety. It is the repentance of a man who is sorry he got caught, sorry for the consequences, but not sorry for the sin that caused them. His heart is as hard as the city walls.
How do we know this? We know it by what he says next. His grief immediately curdles into rage, and he directs it not at Ben-hadad, not at his own idolatry, and not at the God he just acknowledged as the only source of salvation. No, he directs it at God's prophet, Elisha. "May God do so to me and more also, if the head of Elisha the son of Shaphat remains on him today."
This is the classic move of the unrepentant sinner. When the Word of God brings conviction, when the consequences of sin become unbearable, the sinner does not repent. He tries to kill the messenger. The king of Israel is blaming the smoke alarm for the fire. Elisha was the one who had warned them. He was the one who spoke the truth of God. He was the divine early warning system. And for this, the king wants his head. It is irrational. It is insane. But it is the logic of a heart at war with God. If you cannot silence God, you will try to silence His prophet.
Conclusion: Blaming the Prophet
The story of Samaria's siege is our story. We live in a civilization that has, for generations, been feasting on the blessings of its Christian heritage while simultaneously cursing the God who provided them. We have taught our children that they are meaningless accidents of biology, that there is no lawgiver, and that they are free to define their own reality. And now we are shocked, shocked, when they begin to devour one another, morally, spiritually, and sometimes literally.
Our culture is starving, not for bread, but for truth. Our leaders offer us the economic equivalent of a donkey's head and the spiritual nourishment of dove's dung. And when the predictable consequences of our rebellion arrive, when the famine of meaning sets in, who do they blame? They blame the Christians. They blame the faithful pastors who refuse to compromise the Word of God. They blame the Elishas who dare to say that sin has consequences, that there is a God in heaven who judges the nations.
The king was wearing sackcloth, but his heart was full of murder. This is false repentance. True repentance does not tear its garments and then threaten God's prophet. True repentance tears its heart (Joel 2:13), falls on its face, and says, "Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight" (Psalm 51:4). True repentance agrees with God's diagnosis and flees to His remedy.
And what is God's remedy for a world that has devoured its own children? He gave His own Son. On the cross, Jesus Christ entered into the ultimate siege. He endured the full famine of God's wrath against our sin. He was forsaken so that we might be saved. God did not hide His Son, as the woman in our story did. He gave His Son, so that we, by eating His flesh and drinking His blood by faith, might have eternal life (John 6:54). The choice before us is the same choice that was before Samaria. We can either continue in our rebellion, blame the prophet, and starve. Or we can repent, believe the Word of the Lord, and feast at the table He has prepared for us, a feast of deliverance and grace.