The Terrible Kindness of a Prophetic Rebuke Text: 2 Chronicles 19:1-4
Introduction: The Folly of Friendly Fire
We live in an age that has confused niceness with love. We have traded the sharp, healing scalpel of biblical truth for the dull, sentimental butterknife of secular affirmation. The modern church, in many quarters, has decided that the most loving thing you can do is to never, ever tell someone they are wrong, especially if that someone is an ally you think you need. Pragmatism has become our eleventh commandment, and the fear of man our guiding principle. We want peace, but we want it on our own terms, often by making illicit treaties with those who are at war with God.
This is the precise situation in which we find Jehoshaphat, the good king of Judah. He is a genuine reformer, a man who, as we will see, set his heart to seek God. But good men can make disastrously foolish decisions. In the previous chapter, he made a political and military alliance with Ahab, the wicked king of Israel, a man who was a sworn enemy of Yahweh. He married his son to Ahab's daughter, the notorious Athaliah. He went to battle alongside Ahab, and nearly lost his life for it. He was playing footsie with the apostates, and God was having none of it.
Jehoshaphat returns home, having escaped death by the skin of his teeth, and he likely thinks the worst is over. He got away with it. He can now enjoy the "peace" of his compromise. But the most dangerous part of his journey is not the Syrian archers on the battlefield; it is the lone prophet waiting for him at the gates of Jerusalem. God, in His great mercy, loves His people too much to let them prosper in their disobedience. He will not allow them to enjoy a false peace built on a foundation of compromise. And so He sends a man to deliver a rebuke that is both terrifying and kind, a divine confrontation designed not to crush, but to correct. This is not just an ancient story; it is a timeless lesson on the danger of unholy alliances, the necessity of prophetic courage, and the beautiful, active nature of true repentance.
The Text
Then Jehoshaphat the king of Judah returned in peace to his house in Jerusalem. And Jehu the son of Hanani the seer went out to meet him to his face and said to King Jehoshaphat, “Should you help the wicked and love those who hate Yahweh and so bring wrath on yourself from Yahweh? But some good has been found in you, for you have purged the Asheroth from the land and you have set your heart to seek God.” So Jehoshaphat lived in Jerusalem. Indeed, he returned and went out among the people from Beersheba to the hill country of Ephraim and caused them to return back to Yahweh, the God of their fathers.
(2 Chronicles 19:1-4)
A False Peace and a Faithful Prophet (v. 1-2)
The scene opens with a deceptive calm:
"Then Jehoshaphat the king of Judah returned in peace to his house in Jerusalem." (2 Chronicles 19:1)
He returned in "peace," or shalom. But this was a cheap peace. He had survived a battle he should never have been in, a battle where his ally was struck down by God's decree while he was spared by God's mercy. He comes home, but he does not come home to God's blessing. He comes home to God's controversy. You cannot yoke yourself to the enemies of God and expect to bring God's shalom back with you. You bring back trouble. You bring back spiritual contamination. This is the quiet before the storm, the calm that precedes a necessary and gracious confrontation.
And that confrontation comes swiftly.
"And Jehu the son of Hanani the seer went out to meet him to his face and said to King Jehoshaphat, 'Should you help the wicked and love those who hate Yahweh and so bring wrath on yourself from Yahweh?'" (2 Chronicles 19:2)
Notice the courage of this prophet. Jehu doesn't send an anonymous letter or start a whispering campaign. He goes out to meet the king "to his face." This is the prophetic task. It is a public, direct, and personal confrontation of sin, especially the sin of those in authority. Jehu's father, Hanani, had done the same thing to Jehoshaphat's father, Asa, and was thrown in prison for it. Jehu knew the risks, but the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom, and it casts out the fear of kings.
The prophet's question is a rhetorical spear thrown at the king's conscience. It has two sharp points. First, "Should you help the wicked?" This is about action. Jehoshaphat had lent his armies, his resources, and his credibility to the cause of Ahab, a man thoroughly devoted to wickedness. This is a direct violation of the principle of separation that runs throughout Scripture. We are not to be unequally yoked. We are not to give aid and comfort to those who are actively making war on our King.
The second point is even deeper: "and love those who hate Yahweh?" This is about affection and allegiance. This is not about the command to love our personal enemies in the sense of praying for them and doing good to them. This is about a covenantal love, a love of friendship, alliance, and shared purpose. To love, in this sense, those whom God hates, that is, those who have set themselves up as His implacable enemies, is to commit spiritual treason. It is to declare that your loyalties are divided. As James would later say, "friendship with the world is enmity with God" (James 4:4). You cannot hold hands with Ahab and with Yahweh. You must choose. Jehoshaphat tried to do both, and the result was not blessing, but the threat of "wrath from Yahweh." This wrath is God's holy, covenantal displeasure, His fatherly discipline that He brings upon His children when they wander into the enemy's camp.
A Gracious Distinction (v. 3)
Just as the rebuke reaches its sharpest point, God, through His prophet, extends a remarkable grace. He does not disqualify the king entirely.
"But some good has been found in you, for you have purged the Asheroth from the land and you have set your heart to seek God." (2 Chronicles 19:3)
This is profoundly important. God's rebuke is specific, not total. He is a discerning judge. He can condemn a sinful action without condemning the man's entire state of grace. This is the pattern for all mature Christian correction. We must learn to distinguish between a believer's sin, even a grievous one, and their fundamental identity in Christ. God says, in effect, "What you did with Ahab was wicked and foolish, and it invites My discipline. But. I have not forgotten your record. I see the good in you."
And what is that good? It is twofold, mirroring the two great commandments of reformation. First, the negative work: "you have purged the Asheroth from the land." Jehoshaphat had a history of tearing down idols. He was a destroyer of false worship. True faith is not just about believing the right things; it is about actively hating and removing the wrong things. It has a destructive, iconoclastic edge.
Second, the positive work: "you have set your heart to seek God." This is the internal orientation that drives the external action. Despite this colossal lapse in judgment, Jehoshaphat's basic disposition, the fundamental trajectory of his soul, was toward Yahweh. His heart was "set" or "prepared" to seek the Lord. This is what it means to be a man after God's own heart. It does not mean perfection. David was a man after God's own heart, and his sins were infamous. It means that when you are confronted with your sin, your heart is oriented toward repentance, not rebellion. God's rebuke landed on fertile soil, not on stone.
The Fruit of True Repentance (v. 4)
The final verse shows us the result of this sharp and gracious rebuke. It shows us what genuine repentance looks like in action.
"So Jehoshaphat lived in Jerusalem. Indeed, he returned and went out among the people from Beersheba to the hill country of Ephraim and caused them to return back to Yahweh, the God of their fathers." (2 Chronicles 19:4)
How did Jehoshaphat respond? He did not argue with the prophet. He did not imprison him as his father had done. He did not make excuses or try to justify his pragmatic alliance. He received the rebuke. And his reception was not passive. He repented, and his repentance immediately bore fruit. He "returned," a word that here means more than just going home; it signifies a turning back in his own heart.
But his repentance was not merely personal and private. It was public and national. He "went out among the people." A king who has been rebuked for a foreign policy failure immediately turns his attention to domestic revival. He understands that the strength of the nation is not found in clever alliances with pagans, but in the covenant faithfulness of its people. His repentance overflows into reformation.
And look at the scope of this reformation: "from Beersheba to the hill country of Ephraim." From the southernmost border to the northernmost reach of his kingdom. This was a thorough, comprehensive effort. True repentance is not about tidying up one little corner of your life. It is about giving God access to the whole territory.
Finally, notice the verb: he "caused them to return back to Yahweh." This is the work of a covenant leader. He does not merely suggest or recommend a return to God. He uses his royal authority, his influence, and his personal example to actively lead, persuade, and cause the people to repent alongside him. This is what godly fathers do in their homes, what faithful elders do in their churches, and what righteous magistrates ought to do in the public square. They take responsibility for the spiritual direction of those under their charge and lead them back to "Yahweh, the God of their fathers." He countered his foreign apostasy with a domestic reformation.
Conclusion: Receive the Rebuke
The story of Jehoshaphat is our story. We are all tempted by the allure of the pragmatic compromise. We are tempted to form alliances of action and affection with those who hate the Lord, telling ourselves it is for a greater good. We might do it in business, in politics, in our personal relationships, or even in our churches, watering down the gospel to make it more palatable to the world.
And when we do this, the most merciful thing God can do is send a Jehu to meet us at the gate. He may send a sermon, a passage of Scripture that leaps off the page, a faithful friend, a spouse, or an elder to confront us "to our face." And in that moment, we have a choice. We can be like Asa, who threw the prophet in jail. We can be like Ahab, who hated the prophet Micaiah because he never said anything good about him. Or we can be like Jehoshaphat.
We can have a heart that is "set to seek God," a heart that is soft enough to receive the terrible kindness of a rebuke. We can accept the charge, turn from our sin, and let our repentance bear the fruit of active, widespread reformation in every area of our lives. The Lord's discipline is a mark of his fatherly love. He confronts us because He has found "some good" in us, the good work that He Himself began, and which He has promised to bring to completion on the day of Jesus Christ, our true and perfect King, who never made an illicit alliance and whose blood is the foundation of all our repentance.