The Three Month Apostasy Text: 2 Kings 23:31-33
Introduction: The Covenant's Razor Edge
We come now to the end of one of the greatest revivals in the history of God's people, the reformation under King Josiah. We have seen the law rediscovered, the temple cleansed, the idols torn down from Dan to Beersheba, and the covenant renewed with weeping and solemn oaths. If ever there was a moment when it seemed the nation had been pulled back from the brink, this was it. Josiah was a righteous king, a man who sought the Lord with all his heart. But the central lesson of redemptive history, which our sentimental age despises, is that covenantal faithfulness is not a family heirloom that can be passed down in a will. It must be fought for, bled for, and believed in by every successive generation. One man's reformation, no matter how glorious, cannot be grandfathered in.
The death of Josiah at Megiddo was a staggering blow, a national trauma. And in the confusion that followed, we see just how thin the veneer of that reformation truly was. The deep, structural rot of idolatry that Manasseh had mortared into the nation's bones was not fully expunged. It was merely whitewashed. And the moment the righteous king is removed from the board, the old rebellion bubbles to the surface with breathtaking speed. What we are about to read is a case study in the velocity of apostasy. It is a warning to us that a nation does not slide into judgment; it plummets. The story of Jehoahaz is the story of a ninety-day freefall from the heights of reformation into the depths of vassalage and exile. It demonstrates a foundational principle of God's economy: when judgment is determined, the instruments of that judgment are never far away.
The Text
Jehoahaz was twenty-three years old when he became king, and he reigned three months in Jerusalem; and his mother’s name was Hamutal the daughter of Jeremiah of Libnah.
And he did what was evil in the sight of Yahweh, according to all that his fathers had done.
And Pharaoh Neco imprisoned him at Riblah in the land of Hamath, that he might not reign in Jerusalem; and he imposed on the land a fine of one hundred talents of silver and one talent of gold.
(2 Kings 23:31-33 LSB)
The People's Choice and the Blink of a Reign (v. 31)
We begin with the brief and tragic biography of the new king.
"Jehoahaz was twenty-three years old when he became king, and he reigned three months in Jerusalem; and his mother’s name was Hamutal the daughter of Jeremiah of Libnah." (2 Kings 23:31)
The first thing to notice is the brevity of the reign. Three months. It takes longer than that for the seasons to change. This is not a reign; it is a footnote. It is a historical placeholder. God raised him up and put him down so quickly that it serves as a divine exclamation point on the nation's folly. Jehoahaz, whose name means "Yahweh has grasped," was indeed grasped by Yahweh, but not for blessing. He was grasped and summarily discarded.
He was twenty-three, old enough to know better. He had grown up during the height of his father Josiah's reformation. He saw the idols torn down. He heard the book of the Law read. He stood in the assembly when the covenant was renewed. He was not ignorant of the truth; he was contemptuous of it. This is not a story of a young man who didn't know the rules. This is the story of a young man who, at the first opportunity, spat on the rules.
We are also told that the people of the land made him king, even though he was not the firstborn son. His older brother Eliakim was passed over. Why? We can only surmise that the people, in their political wisdom, saw something in Jehoahaz that they liked, and something in Eliakim they did not. Perhaps Jehoahaz represented a more muscular, anti-Egyptian foreign policy, a populist choice to stand up to the regional superpower. But when the people of God make their political choices based on pragmatism and popular sentiment rather than on God's established patterns, the result is always disaster. They chose a king, and God gave them a king in His anger, and in three months, He took him away in His wrath.
His mother's name is mentioned, Hamutal from Libnah. This is not incidental information. The Chronicler is reminding us that covenantal fidelity is not passed through the bloodline. Being the son of a godly father and the grandson of a godly woman is no guarantee of anything. Each man stands before God on his own two feet. Grace is not genetic.
The Gravity of Evil (v. 32)
Verse 32 gives us God's assessment of this three-month reign. It is the only assessment that matters.
"And he did what was evil in the sight of Yahweh, according to all that his fathers had done." (2 Kings 23:32 LSB)
What does it mean to do "evil in the sight of Yahweh?" In our therapeutic age, we think of evil in psychological or sociological terms. We think of it as dysfunction, or bad choices, or social injustice. But the Bible's definition is ruthlessly theological. Evil is covenant-breaking. Evil is idolatry. It is the rejection of the first and greatest commandment: "You shall have no other gods before Me." All other sins, all the murder and theft and adultery, are simply the fruit that grows on the poisonous tree of idolatry. When you get the first commandment wrong, you cannot possibly get any of the others right.
So what did Jehoahaz do in his three months? He began to undo his father's work. He gave quarter to the idolaters. He winked at the high places. He signaled to the nation that the old ways, the ways of syncretism and pagan compromise, were back on the table. He opened the door to the darkness that Josiah had fought so hard to drive out.
And notice the standard of his evil: "according to all that his fathers had done." This is a crucial phrase. It does not say "according to what his father," singular, had done. His immediate father was Josiah, the righteous. No, the writer reaches back past Josiah to the true spiritual ancestry of this rebellion. He did evil like his grandfather Manasseh and his great-grandfather Amon. This tells us that apostasy has a long memory and a deep root system. You can cut down the weed, as Josiah did, but if you do not salt the earth, the roots will sprout again at the first opportunity. The reformation had been a great pruning, but it had not been a great uprooting in the hearts of the people or the new king.
The Pagan's Leash (v. 33)
The consequence of this swift apostasy is an equally swift judgment. And God uses a pagan hammer to deliver the blow.
"And Pharaoh Neco imprisoned him at Riblah in the land of Hamath, that he might not reign in Jerusalem; and he imposed on the land a fine of one hundred talents of silver and one talent of gold." (2 Kings 23:33 LSB)
Pharaoh Neco of Egypt is not some rogue actor operating outside of God's jurisdiction. We must have a robustly sovereign view of history. Neco is God's instrument. He is a tool in the hand of Yahweh, as much as Nebuchadnezzar would later be called God's "servant." God is the one who puts the leash on this Egyptian king and says, "Go. Fetch my rebellious son." Neco thinks he is building his own empire, securing his northern border. But he is simply running God's errand. He summons Jehoahaz to his military headquarters at Riblah, north of Israel, and claps him in irons. The people's choice is now the pagan's prisoner.
This is a profound theological lesson. When God's people flirt with the gods of the surrounding nations, God's response is often to hand them over to the very nations they admire. You want to be like Egypt? You want to rely on their political power and dabble in their idolatries? Fine. You can be their slaves. You can pay their bills. The judgment fits the crime. Israel's sin was a desire for political and spiritual autonomy from Yahweh, and their punishment was total political and spiritual subjugation to a foreign power.
And the fine is not just a political matter; it is a covenantal curse. One hundred talents of silver and a talent of gold. This is a massive sum, designed to bleed the nation dry. It is the reversal of the Exodus. At the Exodus, Israel plundered the Egyptians. Now, the Egyptians are plundering them. The blessings of the covenant included prosperity and freedom. The curses of the covenant, laid out plainly in Deuteronomy 28, included poverty, oppression, and bondage to foreign powers. What we are seeing here is God methodically and justly dismantling the blessings and imposing the curses. This is not bad luck. This is covenantal lawsuit, and the verdict has come in.
Conclusion: No Neutral Ground
The story of Jehoahaz, brief as it is, is a stark reminder that there is no coasting in the Christian life. There is no neutral gear in covenant history. A family, a church, or a nation is either actively moving toward God, pressing further into the light, or it is moving away from Him into the darkness. And the slide into darkness is always faster than you think.
Josiah's reformation was glorious, but it did not change the fundamental orientation of the people's hearts. They complied externally, but they did not love the law of God internally. And so, the moment the external pressure was removed, they reverted to their factory settings, which were set to idolatry. This is a warning to us. We can build impressive institutions, hold wonderful conferences, and elect righteous leaders, but if the Word of God is not written on the hearts of the people, if our children are not catechized in the fear of the Lord, then our reformation is just one generation away from utter collapse.
The Lord grasped Jehoahaz and judged him. He did evil, and the pagan hammer fell. This is the rhythm of covenant history. And it is a rhythm that should drive us to our knees, begging God not only for revival in our time, but for the grace of multi-generational faithfulness, lest our children inherit nothing from us but a three-month reign of folly, followed by the chains of a new Egypt.