The Ghost of a Fallen House: Text: 1 Chronicles 8:33-40
Introduction: The Uncomfortable Pew
We come this morning to a portion of Scripture that many, if they are being honest, would prefer to skip. We are in the midst of the great genealogies of Chronicles, those long lists of "begats" that function for the modern reader as a kind of respectable sleeping aid. We see a chapter title like "Genealogies," and our eyes glaze over. We think it is just a dry, dusty record of ancient administration, about as spiritually nourishing as a page from the phone book. But if you think that, you are profoundly mistaken. You are like a man who looks at a forest and sees only a collection of timber prices.
These lists are not here by accident. Every name, every link in the chain, is recorded by the Holy Spirit for our instruction, for our edification, and for our worship. To the original readers, recently returned from exile in Babylon, these lists were everything. They were their identity. They were the tangible proof that God had not forgotten His promises, that He had preserved a people for Himself through judgment and fire. These names were a roll call of the faithful, a muster of God's covenant army. To them, this was not a phone book; it was a family album, a title deed, and a battle standard all in one.
But the list before us today is a particularly uncomfortable one. We are not tracing the line of David, the man after God's own heart. We are not in the celebrated tribe of Judah. No, we are in Benjamin, and we are examining the family tree of Israel's first and failed king, Saul, the son of Kish. This is the royal line that God rejected. This is the house that was supposed to be, but wasn't. This is the ghost of a fallen dynasty. And the question we must ask is, why is it here? Why does the Chronicler, writing to encourage a post-exilic community, spend so much time on a dead end? The answer is that in the economy of God, there are no dead ends. There are only long and winding roads that all, ultimately, lead to the cross and the empty tomb.
This genealogy is a sermon in miniature. It is a story of sin and its consequences, of divine judgment and surprising grace, and of the persistent, stubborn faithfulness of a God who works His purposes out even through the rubble of our greatest failures.
The Text
Ner became the father of Kish, and Kish became the father of Saul, and Saul became the father of Jonathan, Malchi-shua, Abinadab, and Eshbaal. The son of Jonathan was Merib-baal, and Merib-baal became the father of Micah. The sons of Micah were Pithon, Melech, Tarea, and Ahaz. Ahaz became the father of Jehoaddah, and Jehoaddah became the father of Alemeth, Azmaveth, and Zimri; and Zimri became the father of Moza. Moza became the father of Binea; Raphah was his son, Eleasah his son, Azel his son. Azel had six sons, and these were their names: Azrikam, Bocheru, Ishmael, Sheariah, Obadiah, and Hanan. All these were the sons of Azel. The sons of Eshek his brother were Ulam his firstborn, Jeush the second, and Eliphelet the third. The sons of Ulam were mighty men of valor, archers, and had many sons and grandsons, 150 of them. All these were of the sons of Benjamin.
(1 Chronicles 8:33-40 LSB)
The Rejected King and His Noble Son (v. 33)
The genealogy begins with the infamous name that sets the tone for the entire passage.
"Ner became the father of Kish, and Kish became the father of Saul, and Saul became the father of Jonathan, Malchi-shua, Abinadab, and Eshbaal." (1 Chronicles 8:33)
There it is: Saul. The man the people wanted. He looked the part, head and shoulders above everyone else. He was from Benjamin, the smallest tribe, a humble beginning. But his story is a tragedy of disobedience, jealousy, and paranoia. He was the king who refused to obey the word of the Lord, who consulted a witch instead of God, and who died a suicide on the battlefield. His kingship is the great cautionary tale of the Old Testament. It is a monument to the folly of choosing a king based on outward appearance rather than inward character, of wanting a king "like the nations" instead of the King who made the nations.
So why is he here? First, to remind us of the reality of God's judgment. God's rejection of Saul was total and final. "You have rejected the word of the Lord," Samuel told him, "and the Lord has rejected you from being king over Israel" (1 Sam. 15:26). God is not mocked. What a man sows, that he will also reap. Saul sowed rebellion, and he reaped ruin for his entire house. This is a hard word, but a necessary one. We live in a sentimental age that wants a God who is all grace and no government, all mercy and no justice. But the God of the Bible is holy, and He will not suffer rivals.
But right next to the name of the failed father is the name of his glorious son: Jonathan. Here is one of the great paradoxes of Scripture. The loser king has one of the noblest sons in all the Old Testament. Jonathan was a man of immense courage, faith, and loyalty. His love for David, the man who would replace him as heir to the throne, is one of the most beautiful pictures of covenant friendship in all of literature. Jonathan should have been Saul's rival to David, but instead he became David's greatest ally. He put the covenant of God above his own ambition. He saw God's anointing on David and submitted to it, even at great personal cost. It is a striking irony that the best man in the house of Saul was the one who most clearly saw why his house had to fall.
A Picture of Grace in a Cursed Line (v. 34)
The genealogy continues, not through Saul's other sons who died with him, but through Jonathan, and this is where the gospel begins to shine through the cracks of this broken family.
"The son of Jonathan was Merib-baal, and Merib-baal became the father of Micah." (1 Chronicles 8:34)
Here we meet Merib-baal. If that name doesn't ring a bell, it's because we know him better by his other name, Mephibosheth. The name Merib-baal means "contender with Baal," but it was likely changed to Mephibosheth, "from the mouth of shame," to avoid speaking the name of the pagan god Baal. But the name is fitting. He is a son of a cursed and shamed house.
What do we know of Mephibosheth? We know he was crippled in both feet, dropped by his nurse as she fled in panic when the news came of Saul and Jonathan's death (2 Sam. 4:4). He is the picture of helplessness. He is the last descendant of a deposed king, living in hiding in a desolate place called Lo-debar, which means "no pasture." He is a refugee from a fallen kingdom, lame, impoverished, and with nothing to offer.
And it is to this man that King David shows "the kindness of God" for Jonathan's sake (2 Sam. 9:3). David seeks him out, restores to him all the land of his grandfather Saul, and, most remarkably, invites him to eat at the king's table, always, like one of the king's own sons. This is the gospel. We are Mephibosheth. We are the sons of a rebel king, Adam. We are crippled by the fall, unable to walk in righteousness. We live in Lo-debar, a world of no pasture, spiritually destitute. And the greater David, King Jesus, seeks us out not because of any merit in us, but for the sake of another, for His own sake. He finds us in our desolate place, restores to us an inheritance we did not earn, and invites us to feast at His table forever. The inclusion of Merib-baal in this genealogy is a bright, shining beacon of unmerited grace in the middle of a story of judgment.
The Persistence of a People (v. 35-38)
The list continues, name after name, generation after generation.
"The sons of Micah were Pithon, Melech, Tarea, and Ahaz. Ahaz became the father of Jehoaddah, and Jehoaddah became the father of Alemeth, Azmaveth, and Zimri; and Zimri became the father of Moza. Moza became the father of Binea; Raphah was his son, Eleasah his son, Azel his son. Azel had six sons, and these were their names: Azrikam, Bocheru, Ishmael, Sheariah, Obadiah, and Hanan. All these were the sons of Azel." (1 Chronicles 8:35-38)
These are names largely lost to history. They are not kings or prophets. They are simply men who lived, had sons, and died. But their inclusion here is a testament to God's preservation. Even though the royal line of Saul was cut off from the throne, the family line itself was not extinguished. God is in the business of keeping His people. He promised to preserve a remnant, and these names are the evidence of that promise kept.
This is a quiet but profound comfort. The grand movements of history are in God's hands, the rise and fall of kings and kingdoms. But so are the small, seemingly insignificant lives of ordinary people. God knows Azrikam and Bocheru just as He knows Saul and David. He is the Lord of the family tree as well as the Lord of the battlefield. For the people returning from exile, this was a powerful reminder that God had not lost track of them. He knew their names. He had numbered the hairs on their heads. And He had preserved them, generation by generation, according to His covenant purpose.
A Remnant of Strength (v. 39-40)
The passage concludes with a flourish, a sudden burst of vitality from this unlikely branch of Benjamin.
"The sons of Eshek his brother were Ulam his firstborn, Jeush the second, and Eliphelet the third. The sons of Ulam were mighty men of valor, archers, and had many sons and grandsons, 150 of them. All these were of the sons of Benjamin." (1 Chronicles 8:39-40)
After all the tragedy and judgment associated with the house of Saul, the genealogy ends on a note of strength and fruitfulness. Here, from a side branch of this same family, come "mighty men of valor." The Hebrew is gibborim, the same word used for David's mighty men. They are archers, a skill for which the tribe of Benjamin was famous. And they are exceedingly fruitful, with 150 sons and grandsons.
What is this telling us? It is telling us that God's curse on the house of Saul for the throne did not mean a curse on the whole tribe of Benjamin. It is telling us that life and strength can spring up in the most unexpected places. It is a picture of God's grace, which is not constrained by our failures. Even in the tribe that produced the failed king, God is able to raise up warriors and build up families. He is not finished with Benjamin. He is not finished with Israel. His purposes cannot be thwarted by one man's rebellion.
This is a lesson for the returning exiles, and it is a lesson for us. Our past failures, even our catastrophic failures, do not have the final word. God's grace has the final word. He can take a family line marked by judgment and still produce from it mighty men of valor. He can take a people decimated by exile and make them fruitful again. He can take a sinner dead in his trespasses and make him a warrior for the kingdom.
Conclusion: The True Benjaminite
So we see this genealogy is not a dry list at all. It is a story of a rejected king, a picture of gospel grace in his crippled grandson, and a promise of God's power to bring life and strength out of a history of failure.
But there is one more Benjaminite we must consider. Many centuries after Ulam and his 150 sons, another man from the tribe of Benjamin appears on the scene. He is a man of tremendous zeal, a mighty warrior for what he believed to be the truth. He describes himself this way: "circumcised the eighth day, of the stock of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of the Hebrews; concerning the law, a Pharisee" (Philippians 3:5).
His name was also Saul. Saul of Tarsus.
Like his ancient namesake, this Saul was a persecutor of God's anointed one. The first Saul hunted David, the Lord's anointed. This second Saul hunted the church of Jesus Christ, the Son of David. But on the road to Damascus, this Saul, this mighty man of Benjamin, was struck down by a light from heaven. He was confronted by the true King, Jesus. And just as David showed grace to Mephibosheth from the house of the first Saul, King Jesus showed grace to this second Saul. He did not destroy him in judgment; He remade him by grace. He gave him a new name, Paul, and made this mighty warrior from the tribe of the failed king into the greatest apostle and missionary the world has ever known.
The story of Saul the king is a tragedy. But it is a tragedy that God redeems. The failures of the first Saul serve as a dark backdrop against which the glory of King Jesus and the grace shown to the second Saul shine all the more brightly. This genealogy in 1 Chronicles reminds us that our God is a God who keeps records. He remembers sin and judges it. But He also remembers His covenant, and He shows mercy. He is a God who can bring mighty men from a broken line, and who can transform a persecutor from the tribe of Benjamin into the apostle to the Gentiles, all for the glory of the true King, the Son of David, Jesus Christ.