Bird's-eye view
This passage marks a dramatic and refreshing turn in the sorry history of Judah's kings. After the disastrous reign of his father Ahaz, a man who enthusiastically imported every pagan novelty he could find, Hezekiah ascends the throne and brings a reformation that is swift, thorough, and uncompromising. This is not a half-hearted political maneuver; it is a top-to-bottom spiritual housecleaning. Hezekiah is presented as a new David, a king who does what is right in God's eyes, not by the diminished standards of his immediate predecessors, but by the gold standard of David himself. The Chronicler gives us the details of the temple cleansing, but the author of Kings focuses on the public, decisive acts of iconoclasm. Hezekiah doesn't just put a fresh coat of paint on the problem; he takes a sledgehammer to the very instruments of idolatry. The central theme here is the nature of true faith. It is not a sentimental attachment to religious artifacts or a syncretistic blending of truth and error. True faith, as embodied by Hezekiah, trusts Yahweh exclusively, clings to Him tenaciously, and obeys His commandments without equivocation. This radical obedience, particularly the destruction of the high places and even the revered bronze serpent, sets Hezekiah apart and is the foundation for the blessing and prosperity that followed.
This is a story about the infectious nature of sin and the necessary radicalism of repentance. Idolatry had become so deeply embedded in the national consciousness that even a legitimate historical artifact from the time of Moses had been turned into an object of worship. Hezekiah's actions teach us that anything, no matter how venerable or historically significant, that becomes a substitute for direct trust in the living God must be torn down. His reign is a potent illustration of the principle that blessing follows obedience, and that true reformation always begins with a return to the exclusive worship of the one true God as He has commanded.
Outline
- 1. A New King, A New Standard (2 Kings 18:1-3)
- a. The Historical Setting (2 Kings 18:1)
- b. The King's Profile (2 Kings 18:2)
- c. The Davidic Standard (2 Kings 18:3)
- 2. The Radicalism of True Reformation (2 Kings 18:4)
- a. Tearing Down the High Places (2 Kings 18:4a)
- b. Smashing the Pillars and Poles (2 Kings 18:4b)
- c. Destroying a Sacred Relic: Nehushtan (2 Kings 18:4c)
- 3. The Heart of a Faithful King (2 Kings 18:5-6)
- a. Unrivaled Trust in Yahweh (2 Kings 18:5)
- b. Unwavering Loyalty to Yahweh (2 Kings 18:6)
Context In 2 Kings
The book of 2 Kings chronicles the steady decline and eventual collapse of the divided kingdoms of Israel and Judah. The immediate context for Hezekiah's reign is bleak. Chapter 17 has just detailed the final, catastrophic fall of the northern kingdom of Israel to Assyria, explicitly linking their destruction to their persistent idolatry and rejection of God's covenant. The southern kingdom of Judah, while still standing, is teetering on the brink. Hezekiah's own father, Ahaz, was one of the worst kings in Judah's history (2 Kings 16). He had shut the doors of the temple, set up pagan altars throughout Jerusalem, and made Judah a vassal state to Assyria. Hezekiah's accession to the throne, therefore, occurs at a moment of profound national crisis. The northern kingdom is gone, a stark warning of the consequences of apostasy. The southern kingdom is spiritually rotten and politically compromised. It is against this dark backdrop that Hezekiah's faithful reign shines so brightly. He is a stark contrast to his father and to the kings of the north, and his reforms represent a last, great opportunity for Judah to repent and return to Yahweh before the final judgment falls upon them as well.
Key Issues
- The Davidic Standard for Kingship
- The Problem of the High Places
- Syncretism vs. True Worship
- The Nature of Idolatry (Nehushtan)
- The Relationship Between Trust and Obedience
- Radical Reformation
Reformation with a Hammer
There is a time for careful theological debate, and there is a time for picking up a hammer. Hezekiah understood this distinction. His father Ahaz had turned Judah into a spiritual junkyard, cluttered with pagan altars and syncretistic novelties. A true reformation could not begin with a committee meeting to discuss the finer points of liturgical renewal. It had to begin with demolition. The high places, the sacred pillars, the Asherah poles, these were not neutral spaces. They were outposts of rebellion, cancerous growths on the body politic. They represented a fundamental compromise with the first commandment: "You shall have no other gods before me."
Hezekiah's actions show us that true worship is necessarily exclusive. Yahweh does not want to be first on a list of many gods; He demands to be the only God on the list. The high places were a constant temptation to syncretism, to blending the worship of Yahweh with the fertility cults of the Canaanites. Many previous "good" kings had tolerated them, but Hezekiah understood that you cannot be partially obedient. His reformation was thorough because his trust in God was total. He was not trying to appease various factions; he was determined to please God alone. This is the heart of all genuine revival. It is not about tinkering with the externals; it is about tearing down the idols, whatever they may be, that compete for the allegiance that belongs to God alone.
Verse by Verse Commentary
1 Now it happened in the third year of Hoshea, the son of Elah king of Israel, that Hezekiah the son of Ahaz king of Judah became king.
The historian immediately anchors us in redemptive history. Hezekiah's reign begins as the northern kingdom of Israel is in its death throes. Hoshea was the last king of Israel, and his kingdom would be obliterated by the Assyrians just a few years into Hezekiah's reign. This is not an insignificant detail. Hezekiah came to power with a front-row seat to the consequences of covenant unfaithfulness. The smoking ruin of the northern kingdom was a stark object lesson in what happens when a people forsakes Yahweh. This historical reality undoubtedly fueled the urgency and thoroughness of his reforms.
2 He was twenty-five years old when he became king; and he reigned twenty-nine years in Jerusalem. And his mother’s name was Abi, the daughter of Zechariah.
Hezekiah was a young man, but not a boy. He was old enough to have witnessed the full scope of his father's apostasy and to have made a conscious decision to walk in a different direction. The mention of his mother is significant. Given the wickedness of his father Ahaz, it is highly probable that his mother, Abi, was a godly influence who nurtured a faith in Yahweh in the young prince, shielding him from the court's pervasive paganism. God often preserves a remnant for Himself through the quiet faithfulness of mothers and grandmothers, even in the most corrupt of times.
3 And he did what was right in the sight of Yahweh, according to all that David his father had done.
This is the highest praise the author of Kings can give. Many kings "did what was right," but with a qualification, "but not like his father David." David was the standard, the benchmark for covenant faithfulness. This was not because David was sinless, but because when he sinned, he repented wholeheartedly, and because he never led the nation into idolatry. His heart was wholly devoted to Yahweh. Hezekiah is being placed in this premier category. He didn't just aim to be better than his wicked father; he aimed for the original standard of kingship established in the Davidic covenant. This is a call to reject incrementalism and to aim for the biblical standard in our own lives.
4 He took away the high places and shattered the sacred pillars and cut down the Asherah. And he broke in pieces the bronze serpent that Moses had made, for until those days the sons of Israel were burning incense to it; and it was called Nehushtan.
Here is the proof of his Davidic heart. Faith is not an abstract feeling; it is demonstrated in concrete action. First, he tackles the long-standing problem of the high places. These were local shrines, originally for Canaanite worship, that had been co-opted by Israelites for a syncretistic worship of Yahweh. Even good kings had failed to remove them. Hezekiah understands that worship must be offered not just to the right God, but in the right way and in the right place, as commanded by God. Second, he shatters the pillars and cuts down the Asherah poles, the explicit paraphernalia of Baal and Asherah worship. But the most radical act is the last one. He destroys the bronze serpent. This was a genuine, miraculous artifact from the time of Moses (Numbers 21). It was a tangible link to God's miraculous deliverance in the wilderness. But the people had turned a symbol of God's grace into an object of worship. They were burning incense to it, treating it like an idol. Hezekiah, in a stroke of sanctified brilliance, renames it Nehushtan, which is a play on the Hebrew words for bronze and serpent, essentially dismissing it as "a mere piece of brass." He teaches a vital lesson: any good thing, even a biblically-mandated thing, can become an idol when it usurps the place of God Himself. Tradition must always serve truth, and when it ceases to do so, it must be broken in pieces.
5 He trusted in Yahweh, the God of Israel; so that after him there was none like him among all the kings of Judah, nor among those who were before him.
This verse gets to the root of Hezekiah's actions. His radical reformation flowed from a radical trust. His father Ahaz had trusted in political alliances with Assyria. The people had trusted in their high places and their brass snake. Hezekiah trusted in Yahweh, the God of Israel, and in Him alone. This trust was so singular and complete that the historian declares him peerless among the kings of Judah. This is not to diminish Josiah, who was praised for his devotion to the law, but to highlight the unique quality of Hezekiah's faith in the face of the overwhelming Assyrian threat that would soon define his reign. His trust was not in his army, his wealth, or his reforms, but in God Himself.
6 So he clung to Yahweh; he did not turn away from following Him, but kept His commandments, which Yahweh had commanded Moses.
The nature of his trust is described in three ways. First, he clung to Yahweh. The Hebrew word has the sense of holding on tightly, of cleaving to something. It is the language of a deep, personal, relational loyalty. Second, this loyalty was steadfast: he did not turn away from following Him. Unlike many other kings who started well and finished poorly, Hezekiah's commitment was enduring. Third, his trust and loyalty were expressed in obedience. He kept His commandments. True faith is never a disembodied sentiment; it is always demonstrated by a life of obedience. Hezekiah shows us the divine order: trust in the heart leads to clinging with the soul, which results in obedience with the hands.
Application
The story of Hezekiah is a perennial call to reformation, both personal and corporate. We live in an age of spiritual Ahazes, an age that loves syncretism and despises dogma. The temptation is always to accommodate the spirit of the age, to set up "high places" where we can worship a god of our own making alongside the God of the Bible. We may not have Asherah poles in our backyards, but we have plenty of idols that demand our allegiance: comfort, security, approval, political power, personal autonomy.
Hezekiah's first order of business was to identify and destroy the idols, and so must ours be. This requires courage. It is one thing to tear down the obvious idols of the surrounding culture, but it is another thing entirely to take a hammer to our own "bronze serpents." What are the good things, the traditions, the religious artifacts, the spiritual habits, that have ceased to be pointers to God and have become substitutes for God? It could be a particular style of worship, a theological system, or a political affiliation. Anything that we trust in to give us what only God can give is a Nehushtan, a mere piece of brass, and it needs to be broken.
Ultimately, the bronze serpent was a type and shadow of Christ. As Jesus Himself said, "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up" (John 3:14). The Israelites were saved by looking in faith to the bronze serpent; we are saved by looking in faith to the crucified Christ. The tragedy was that the people began to worship the symbol instead of the reality it pointed to. Our temptation is the same. We can become so enamored with the trappings of Christianity that we neglect Christ Himself. True reformation, for Hezekiah and for us, means tearing down everything that obstructs our view of the crucified and risen Lord, and clinging to Him alone for our salvation.