Bird's-eye view
Here we have the official, and rather abrupt, end to the reign of Jehu. This is the way all earthly reigns conclude, with a formal notice in the chronicles and a burial. Jehu was a whirlwind, a man of tremendous zeal, an instrument of God's righteous fury against the house of Ahab. He did everything God commanded him to do with a terrible efficiency. He wiped out Baal worship from Israel, tore down the pillars, and made the temple of Baal a latrine, a fitting end for a foul religion. And yet, for all this, the story ends on a flat note. The summary of his reign is recorded, he is buried, and his son takes his place. The key to understanding this passage, and indeed the entire reign of Jehu, is found just a few verses earlier: "But Jehu took no heed to walk in the law of the LORD God of Israel with all his heart: for he departed not from the sins of Jeroboam, which made Israel to sin" (2 Kings 10:31). This is the tragic epitaph of a man who was used mightily by God but whose heart was not wholly God's. This passage serves as a hinge, closing the chapter on a bloody but incomplete reformation and opening the door to the reign of his son, Jehoahaz, under whom Israel would continue its covenantal decline. It is a stark reminder that external reformation, no matter how zealous, is insufficient without heart-deep fidelity to God's entire law.
Clause-by-Clause Commentary
v. 34 Now the rest of the acts of Jehu and all that he did and all his might, are they not written in the Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Israel?
This is a standard formula for concluding a king's reign in the books of Kings and Chronicles. It points the reader to an external, official source for more information. But we should not read this as a mere historical footnote. There is a theology to it. First, it tells us that the biblical author is making a selection. He is not giving us an exhaustive history; he is giving us a theological history. He has told us what we need to know for the purposes of redemption's story. Second, it points to the fact that these kings, for all their pomp and power, were men of their time, their deeds recorded in merely human books. Their might is noted, yes, "all his might." Jehu was certainly a mighty man. You don't overthrow a dynasty, execute two kings, kill a queen, and slaughter the entire Baal apparatus without a bit of grit. But this might is now contained in a book, a dusty scroll. Earthly power is fleeting. The might of God, however, is eternal, and His book, the one we are reading, is the one that truly matters. The chronicles of Israel are lost to us, but the Word of the Lord endures forever. The acts of Jehu are ultimately judged not by what was written in the court histories of Samaria, but by what is written here.
v. 35 And Jehu slept with his fathers, and they buried him in Samaria. And Jehoahaz his son became king in his place.
"And Jehu slept with his fathers." This is the great equalizer. The whirlwind of God's judgment, the furious driver, the man who waded through blood to do God's bidding, now sleeps. Death comes for zealous reformers and wicked idolaters alike. He is gathered to his ancestors, a phrase that speaks of continuity, but also of finality. He was buried in Samaria, the capital city he had seized for himself and for God's judgment. This was the seat of his power, and now it is the site of his tomb.
And then, the kingdom moves on. "And Jehoahaz his son became king in his place." The transfer of power is seamless, almost perfunctory. This is significant because God had promised Jehu a dynasty to the fourth generation (2 Kings 10:30). This succession is the beginning of the fulfillment of that promise. God is faithful to His word, even when His servants are not wholly faithful to Him. Jehu received his earthly reward for his partial obedience. He got his dynasty. But as we will see, it was a dynasty that would inherit his compromises and continue down the path of sin. The son takes the throne, but he also inherits the spiritual rot of the father's choices, specifically the golden calves at Bethel and Dan.
v. 36 Now the time which Jehu reigned over Israel in Samaria was twenty-eight years.
Twenty-eight years. It is a good, long reign. He had time. He had stability. After the chaos and bloodshed of his coup, he had nearly three decades to establish a righteous kingdom, to turn Israel back to the God of their fathers not just in rejecting Baal, but in embracing true worship. He had twenty-eight years to deal with the calves of Jeroboam. He had twenty-eight years to teach his children and his people to walk in all the ways of the Lord. But he did not. He was zealous against the sins of Ahab, but comfortable with the sins of Jeroboam. This is the constant temptation for all reformers. We are often very good at tearing down the idols of the previous generation, only to erect or, in this case, maintain our own preferred, more respectable idols. Jehu's reign was long, but it was not deep. It was a reformation of width, not of depth. He changed the official religion, but he did not change the heart of the nation because he did not fully surrender his own heart and his own political calculations to the Word of God. The twenty-eight years stand as a monument to a missed opportunity. God gave him a generation of peace and power, and he used it to secure his own throne, but not to secure the nation in covenant faithfulness.
Application
The story of Jehu's conclusion is a sober warning for the church in every age. It is possible to have a tremendous zeal for God, to hate evil, to fight against the gross idolatries of our day, and still have a heart that is not right with God. It is possible to do many mighty works for the Lord and still be clinging to sins of convenience, the "golden calves" of political expediency or personal preference.
We must ask ourselves: what are our golden calves? Where have we stopped short in our reformation? We may have thrown Baal out of the front door, but have we left Jeroboam's idols standing in the back room? Are we zealous against the sins we find shocking in the broader culture, but tolerant of the sins that are common in our own circles? Do we hate the liberal apostasy out there, but coddle the love of money and status in here?
Jehu's story teaches us that God can and will use flawed instruments to accomplish His purposes. He used Jehu's zeal to bring a righteous and bloody end to the house of Ahab. But it also teaches us that God's standard is total, not partial, obedience. He desires the whole heart. A half-reformation is, in the end, no reformation at all. It simply sets the stage for the next generation's apostasy. Our only hope is not in our own zeal or might, but in the one King who reigned with perfect righteousness, who slept with His fathers and was buried, but who did not remain in the tomb. Jesus Christ is the true and perfect reformer, and it is only by being united to Him that our hearts can be truly cleansed of all idolatry, and we can be enabled to walk in the law of the Lord with all our heart.