The Folly of Foreign Saviors
Introduction: The Politics of Unbelief
We come now to a passage that is painfully relevant. It is a story about a king who finds himself in a geopolitical vise grip, and in his panic, he makes a decision that reveals the true object of his worship. This is the story of King Ahaz, and it is the story of every man, every church, and every nation that decides the God of the Bible is not a practical help in a real-world crisis. When the pressure is on, when the enemy is at the gates, where do you turn? Your answer to that question reveals everything about your functional theology, regardless of what your stated theology might be.
Ahaz was the king of Judah, and he was in a world of trouble. Rezin, the king of Aram, and Pekah, the king of Israel, had formed an alliance and were marching on Jerusalem. Their intent was to depose Ahaz and set up their own puppet king. This was not just a political squabble; it was an existential threat. And right before our text, the prophet Isaiah had come to Ahaz with a direct word from Yahweh. God told him, "Be careful, be quiet, do not fear, and do not let your heart be faint" (Isaiah 7:4). God promised that this coalition against him would fail. He even offered Ahaz a blank check for a sign, any sign in heaven or on earth, to prove His faithfulness. And Ahaz, in a fit of false piety, refused, saying, "I will not ask, and I will not put the LORD to the test" (Isaiah 7:12). But this wasn't humility; it was unbelief with a pretty religious bow on it. Ahaz had already made up his mind. He had another savior in mind, a more tangible one, a more worldly one. He wanted a king, not the King of kings.
This is the perennial temptation of the people of God. When faced with a crisis, we are tempted to look for a political solution apart from God, a military savior instead of the Lord of Hosts, a financial bailout from a pagan empire instead of trusting in the provision of our covenant God. We want a savior we can see, a power we can measure in chariots and gold. Ahaz's choice is a textbook example of covenant unfaithfulness. He rejects the sure promise of God and instead prostitutes himself and his kingdom to a foreign power. He sought salvation from Assyria, and in so doing, he invited the wolf into the sheepfold. Let us be warned: worldly solutions to spiritual problems are always a trap. They promise security but deliver only bondage.
The Text
So Ahaz sent messengers to Tiglath-pileser king of Assyria, saying, “I am your servant and your son; come up and save me from the hand of the king of Aram and from the hand of the king of Israel, who are rising up against me.” Ahaz also took the silver and gold that was found in the house of Yahweh and in the treasuries of the king’s house, and sent a gift to the king of Assyria. So the king of Assyria listened to him; and the king of Assyria went up against Damascus and seized it and took the people of it away into exile to Kir, and put Rezin to death.
(2 Kings 16:7-9 LSB)
The Groveling Appeal (v. 7)
The first thing we see is the pathetic nature of Ahaz's appeal. It is the language of a desperate man abandoning his true Lord for a false one.
"So Ahaz sent messengers to Tiglath-pileser king of Assyria, saying, 'I am your servant and your son; come up and save me from the hand of the king of Aram and from the hand of the king of Israel, who are rising up against me.'" (2 Kings 16:7)
Look at the language he uses: "I am your servant and your son." This is covenantal language. This is the very language a faithful Israelite was to use in relation to Yahweh. God had called Israel His son (Exodus 4:22), and the Davidic king was God's son by adoption (Psalm 2:7). To be a servant of Yahweh was the highest honor. But Ahaz takes this sacred language of covenant relationship and lays it at the feet of a pagan tyrant. He is, in effect, renouncing his covenant with God and entering into a covenant with Assyria. He is trading his divine birthright for a pot of pagan stew.
This is political idolatry in its rawest form. He is looking to a man, a king, to be his savior. "Come up and save me," he begs. The word for "save" is the Hebrew word yasha, the very root of the name Joshua, and Jesus. It means to deliver, to rescue, to give victory. This is a cry that should only be directed to God. But Ahaz has replaced God with Tiglath-Pileser. He has more faith in the armies of Assyria than in the armies of Heaven. He believes the political power of a Mesopotamian king is more reliable than the promise of the Creator of the cosmos.
This is precisely what Jeremiah warns against: "Cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his strength, whose heart turns away from the LORD" (Jeremiah 17:5). Ahaz is the poster child for this curse. His heart has turned away from Yahweh, and he is making the flesh of Assyria his strength. We must see that this is not just a foreign policy blunder. It is a profound act of apostasy. He is functionally declaring that the king of Assyria is his god, his father, his lord, and his savior. When the church today places its ultimate hope in a political party, a candidate, or a Supreme Court appointment to "save" the nation, it is making the same fundamental error as Ahaz. We are looking for a political savior to solve what is, at its root, a spiritual crisis of unbelief and rebellion against God.
The Desecrating Bribe (v. 8)
Having offered his allegiance, Ahaz now offers his worship in the form of a bribe, plundered from the house of God itself.
"Ahaz also took the silver and gold that was found in the house of Yahweh and in the treasuries of the king’s house, and sent a gift to the king of Assyria." (2 Kings 16:8 LSB)
This is the inevitable result of political idolatry. If you make the state your savior, you must feed it. And the state is always hungry. Ahaz doesn't just empty his own royal treasury; he raids the Temple. He takes the silver and gold that had been dedicated to the worship and glory of Yahweh and sends it as tribute to a pagan king. This is a picture of utter spiritual bankruptcy.
The treasures of the Temple were not just decorations. They were symbols of God's glory, His presence, and His provision for His people. They were the accumulated wealth of generations of faithful giving. To take these holy things and use them to buy the favor of a pagan king is a profound act of desecration. Ahaz is saying, in effect, that the power of Assyria is worth more than the presence of God. He is melting down his theology to pay for his politics.
This is what happens when we compromise with the world. First, we adopt its language ("I am your servant and your son"). Then, we adopt its priorities ("save me" from my immediate political problem). Finally, we sacrifice our own sacred treasures to fund our new allegiance. A church that seeks the approval of the world will inevitably find itself stripping its own altars to pay the world's price. It will trade the gold of biblical truth for the tin foil of cultural relevance. It will take the resources given for the Great Commission and spend them on political lobbying to secure its own comfort and safety. Ahaz's sin is a stark warning: when you hire a pagan to do God's work, you will always have to pay him with God's money.
The Deceptive Deliverance (v. 9)
And at first glance, the plan seems to work. The pagan savior delivers. But this deliverance is a poisoned chalice.
"So the king of Assyria listened to him; and the king of Assyria went up against Damascus and seized it and took the people of it away into exile to Kir, and put Rezin to death." (2 Kings 16:9 LSB)
Tiglath-Pileser was more than happy to oblige. Expanding his empire was his life's work, and Ahaz had just handed him a golden invitation to do so, and paid him for the privilege. So Assyria marches, Damascus falls, and Rezin is executed. The immediate threat to Ahaz is eliminated. From a purely pragmatic, secular, realpolitik perspective, Ahaz's strategy was a stunning success. He had a problem, he identified a solution, he paid the price, and he got the desired result. The enemies were gone. Jerusalem was safe. Problem solved.
And this is the great deception of trusting in man. Worldly solutions often appear to work, for a time. Sin can be very effective in the short term. If you are in a financial bind, robbing a bank will solve your immediate cash flow problem. But the long-term consequences are disastrous. Ahaz got his deliverance, but he also got a new master. By making himself the "son" of the king of Assyria, he made Judah a vassal state. He traded a temporary threat from two minor kings for permanent subjugation to a superpower. The book of Chronicles tells us the rest of the story: "Tiglath-pileser king of Assyria came to him and distressed him rather than strengthening him" (2 Chronicles 28:20). The savior became the oppressor. The cure was worse than the disease.
God, in His sovereignty, used Assyria. He used Tiglath-Pileser's greed and ambition to accomplish His own purposes. He had prophesied through Amos that the Arameans of Damascus would go into exile to Kir (Amos 1:5), and here it happens. God is always on His throne, and He uses the wicked decisions of men like Ahaz and the pagan ambitions of men like Tiglath-Pileser to weave the tapestry of His sovereign plan. Assyria was the rod of God's anger, an instrument of His judgment (Isaiah 10:5). But this does not excuse Ahaz's sin. Ahaz chose the path of faithless pragmatism, and in doing so, he sold his kingdom into bondage. He got what he paid for, but he lost what he was given for free: the faithful protection of a covenant-keeping God.
Conclusion: Trusting the True King
The story of Ahaz is a cautionary tale written in large letters for the people of God in every generation. We are always facing threats. The culture is hostile, the political situation is unstable, and the enemies of the faith seem to be gaining ground. The temptation is to panic, just like Ahaz, and to look for a savior in the halls of power, whether in Washington D.C. or on Wall Street.
We are tempted to make alliances of convenience, to water down our message to make it more palatable, to raid the treasures of God's Word to pay tribute to the spirit of the age. We are tempted to say to this or that political movement, "I am your servant and your son; come and save me." But this is the way of Ahaz, the way of unbelief, the way of bondage.
The alternative was offered by Isaiah. Stand firm in the faith. Trust the promise of God. The Lord is our help and our shield. The true King of Judah, the true Son of David, is not Ahaz, but Jesus. He is the one who faced the ultimate coalition of enemies, the powers of sin, death, and Hell. And He did not appeal to a foreign king. He appealed to His Father, and He trusted His Father, even unto death on a cross.
Our salvation was not purchased with the silver and gold of a Temple treasury, but with the precious blood of Christ. Our deliverance is not a temporary political fix, but an eternal redemption. Therefore, we must not place our ultimate trust in princes, in political parties, or in human strength. To do so is to become a servant and a son to a lesser king, and to invite oppression. Our allegiance is to one King, Jesus. Our hope is in one kingdom, the kingdom of God. And our salvation is in one name, the name of Jesus. Let us not be like Ahaz, who traded the infinite promises of God for the finite protection of a pagan. Let us instead be those who can say with the psalmist, "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God" (Psalm 20:7).