The Wages of a Treacherous King Text: 2 Chronicles 24:25-27
Introduction: The Government of God
In our modern democratic age, we have a peculiar and dangerous allergy to the concept of divine retribution in the political realm. We are comfortable with a God who is a celestial therapist, a cosmic affirmation coach, or a private spiritual advisor. But a God who pulls the strings of history, who raises up kings and brings them down, who judges nations for their public sins and who ensures that high-handed rebellion receives its due payment in the public square, this is a God who makes modern man nervous. We want our politics sanitized, secularized, and safe from the intrusion of the Almighty. But the Bible knows nothing of such a God and such a world.
The history of Israel, and particularly the history of its kings, is a case study in the unwavering government of God. God is not a distant, deistic clockmaker. He is an active, covenant-keeping, and justice-dispensing King. His law is not a series of helpful suggestions; it is the fabric of reality. When a man, or a nation, or a king saws away at the branch he is sitting on, the law of gravity does not negotiate. It simply works. So it is with God's moral law. You cannot murder God's prophets, abandon His worship, and lead His people into idolatry without the ground giving way beneath your feet.
The story of King Joash is a tragedy in three acts. The first act is a glorious beginning, a boy-king rescued from a murderous grandmother, raised in the temple by the godly priest Jehoiada, and who leads a national reformation. The second act is a sickening turn. After his mentor dies, Joash listens to the flattering whispers of faithless princes, forsakes the God who saved him, and plunges the nation back into idolatry. The pinnacle of this apostasy is the state-sanctioned murder of Zechariah, the son of the very man who had saved his life. Our text today is the third and final act. It is the curtain call of consequence. It is the arrival of the bill for services rendered to the devil. And it is a stark reminder that God is not mocked.
What we see here is not just an ancient palace intrigue. It is a lesson in covenantal cause and effect. It is a demonstration that when the throne of a nation is built on ingratitude, apostasy, and the blood of the righteous, that throne will not stand. God will see to it personally.
The Text
When they had gone from him (for they left him very sick), his servants conspired against him because of the blood of the son of Jehoiada the priest, and killed him on his bed. So he died, and they buried him in the city of David, but they did not bury him in the tombs of the kings. Now these are those who conspired against him: Zabad the son of Shimeath the Ammonitess, and Jehozabad the son of Shimrith the Moabitess. Now as to his sons and the many oracles against him and the rebuilding of the house of God, behold, they are written in the treatise of the Book of the Kings. Then Amaziah his son became king in his place.
(2 Chronicles 24:25-27 LSB)
The Divine Equation of Retribution (v. 25)
We begin with the grim conclusion to a promising life:
"When they had gone from him (for they left him very sick), his servants conspired against him because of the blood of the son of Jehoiada the priest, and killed him on his bed. So he died, and they buried him in the city of David, but they did not bury him in the tombs of the kings." (2 Chronicles 24:25)
The first thing to notice is the context. The "they" who had gone from him were the Arameans. God had already brought the first wave of His judgment. A small Aramean army had routed a much larger Judean force, because, as the previous verse says, "they had forsaken the LORD, the God of their fathers." So judgment was executed on Joash. God used a foreign pagan power to chasten His covenant-breaking people and their king. But that was only the external judgment. Now comes the internal collapse.
Joash is left "very sick," or as some translations render it, with many wounds. He is a defeated, broken king. And it is in this moment of weakness that the final stroke falls. His own servants, the men of his inner circle, conspire against him. This is the classic pattern of tyranny. A ruler who abandons God's law must rule by fear and force, and he inevitably creates an environment of suspicion, betrayal, and conspiracy. He who lives by the sword of treachery will die by it.
But the text gives us the specific, theological reason for the conspiracy. It was "because of the blood of the son of Jehoiada the priest." This is not just a political assassination; it is a divine reckoning. Zechariah's last words as the stones were crushing him were, "May the LORD see and avenge!" (v. 22). And here we see the fulfillment of that cry. God saw, and God was now avenging. He used the Arameans, and now He used treacherous servants. God is sovereign over the means of His judgment. He can use the righteous wrath of a foreign army or the sinful wrath of palace conspirators to accomplish His perfect will. The sin of the assassins is not excused, but their actions are nonetheless woven into the tapestry of God's righteous judgment.
Joash had murdered his cousin, the son of his savior, in the very courts of the Lord's house. It was a sin of monstrous ingratitude and sacrilege. And now, he is killed ignominiously in his own bed, a place of rest and vulnerability. There is a terrible poetic justice here. He who defiled God's house with blood finds no safety in his own house. The final indignity is his burial. He is buried in the city of David, but not in the tombs of the kings. This is a public, posthumous statement. He was a legitimate heir of David, but he died a traitor to the covenant. He is denied the honor given even to Jehoiada the priest, who was buried among the kings because he had done good in Israel. Joash, the king, is deemed less honorable than his faithful subject. God's economy of honor is not based on title, but on faithfulness.
The Unlikely Instruments (v. 26)
Next, the Chronicler names the conspirators, and the details are significant.
"Now these are those who conspired against him: Zabad the son of Shimeath the Ammonitess, and Jehozabad the son of Shimrith the Moabitess." (2 Chronicles 24:26 LSB)
At first glance, this might seem like a minor historical footnote. But in Scripture, the details matter. The assassins are identified by their mothers. And their mothers were not daughters of Israel. One was an Ammonitess, the other a Moabitess. These were nations born out of the incestuous sin of Lot's daughters, and they were perennial enemies of Israel. The law in Deuteronomy 23 explicitly forbade an Ammonite or a Moabite from entering the assembly of the Lord, even to the tenth generation.
What does this tell us? Joash, after the death of Jehoiada, had opened the door to pagan influences from the princes of Judah. He had forsaken the pure worship of Yahweh. It is therefore fitting that the instruments of his demise would come from this very world of pagan compromise. When a nation's leadership begins to blur the lines of covenantal distinction, when it makes unholy alliances and welcomes foreign influences into its heart, it should not be surprised when the vipers it has warmed by the fire turn and strike.
Joash turned from the God of Israel, and he was brought down by men whose very lineage represented a historic enmity to the God of Israel. You become what you worship. Joash turned to the ways of the nations, and he was ultimately consumed by the nations, even from within his own court. This is a warning against the kind of multiculturalism that is not rooted in the fear of God. A nation that abandons its covenantal center will not become a beautiful mosaic; it will become a cauldron of competing loyalties and internal strife, ripe for collapse.
The Unwritten Record and the Continuing Line (v. 27)
The chapter concludes with a standard scribal formula, but one that contains a final, crucial point.
"Now as to his sons and the many oracles against him and the rebuilding of the house of God, behold, they are written in the treatise of the Book of the Kings. Then Amaziah his son became king in his place." (2 Chronicles 24:27 LSB)
The Chronicler points his readers to another source for more details, the "treatise of the Book of the Kings." This tells us of the "many oracles against him." Joash's sin was not done in a corner. God had sent prophet after prophet, and Zechariah was only the last and most prominent. Joash had been warned repeatedly. His rebellion was not out of ignorance but was a high-handed, stiff-necked defiance of God's revealed will. This multiplies his guilt a thousand times over.
But the most important phrase in this entire passage might just be the last one: "Then Amaziah his son became king in his place." After all this apostasy, murder, judgment, and betrayal, the line of David continues. This is grace. This is the unbreakable covenant of God. Joash was a faithless king, but God remains faithful. God had promised David a son to sit on his throne forever. That promise was not contingent on the perfect obedience of every king in the line. Joash deserved to have his line cut off, just as he had tried to cut off the line of Jehoiada. But God, in His sovereign mercy, preserves the royal seed.
Why? Because this line was not ultimately about Joash, or Amaziah, or any other earthly king. This was the line leading to the King, Jesus Christ. Every time a wicked king like Joash is judged and yet the line continues, it is a testimony to God's patient, determined, covenant-keeping grace. He is steering history toward its appointed end: the throne of the Son of David, whose kingdom shall have no end. The story of Joash is a story of man's treachery, but it is set within the much larger story of God's faithfulness.
Conclusion: Judgment and Grace
The end of Joash is a grim affair. It shows us that there is a moral structure to the universe and that God is its guarantor. Political leaders are not exempt from His law; they are, in fact, held to a higher standard. Forsaking God, murdering His messengers, and leading His people into sin are high crimes against the King of heaven, and they will be answered for, often in this life, and certainly in the next.
This is a truth our own nation has forgotten at its peril. We have legalized the shedding of innocent blood on an industrial scale. We have driven God from our public discourse. We have celebrated what He calls abomination. And we think we can continue indefinitely without consequence. The story of Joash is a thunderous warning from God across the millennia: you cannot.
But this is not the final word. The final word is not the ignominious burial of a faithless king. The final word is "Then Amaziah his son became king." The line continues. God's plan is not thwarted by the wickedness of men.
This points us to the ultimate King, Jesus. He too was conspired against by his own. He too was killed by the instruments of a corrupt state, in collusion with treacherous insiders. But unlike Joash, He was perfectly innocent. He was the ultimate faithful Son. And unlike Zechariah, whose blood cried out for vengeance, the blood of Jesus cries out for forgiveness. He took the curse that Joash deserved, that we all deserve.
And because of His faithfulness, He was not left in the tomb. He was not buried in dishonor. God raised Him from the dead and seated Him on the ultimate throne of David. The story of Joash shows us the wages of sin. The story of Jesus shows us the gift of God. The judgment that fell on Joash is a shadow of the judgment that will fall on all who remain in their rebellion. But the preservation of David's line through Joash is a shadow of the grace offered to all who will abandon their own failed kingdoms and bow the knee to the true King, Jesus Christ.