The Logic of a Fool: When God's Discipline Hardens
Introduction: The Great Revealer
There is a common sentiment in our therapeutic age, a soft and sentimental lie, which says that suffering ennobles. We are told that hardship builds character, that trials make us better people. And while it is true that God uses affliction to sanctify His saints, it is a damnable falsehood to assume this is the default setting of the human heart. The truth is that suffering does not build character. Suffering reveals it.
The same fire that refines the gold consumes the dross. The same pressure that creates a diamond pulverizes a lump of charcoal. And the same divine discipline that brings a son to repentance will drive a rebel into deeper apostasy. Affliction is a fork in the road. It forces a decision. When God turns up the heat, you will either run to Him for refuge or you will curse Him and run to the nearest idol. There is no third way. You will either be softened or you will be hardened.
We see this principle illustrated with terrifying clarity in the life of King Ahaz. Here is a man who receives the heavy hand of God's fatherly, covenantal discipline. He is hemmed in by his enemies. His kingdom is collapsing. His armies are being slaughtered. God is sending him a telegram, written in the blood of his own people, with one word on it: REPENT. But Ahaz is a man with a corrupt operating system. He reads the message, and his darkened mind interprets it as an encouragement to sin all the more. He is a case study in the insanity of unbelief, a perfect portrait of how a reprobate mind works. His story is a warning to us, because the logic of Ahaz is the native logic of every fallen human heart.
The Text
Now in the time of his distress this same King Ahaz became yet more unfaithful to Yahweh. Indeed, he sacrificed to the gods of Damascus which had struck him, and said, "Because the gods of the kings of Aram helped them, I will sacrifice to them that they may help me." But they became the stumbling of him and all Israel. Ahaz gathered together the utensils of the house of God. Then he cut the utensils of the house of God in pieces; and he closed the doors of the house of Yahweh and made altars for himself in every corner of Jerusalem. Now in each and every city of Judah he made high places to offer offerings in smoke to other gods, and provoked Yahweh, the God of his fathers, to anger. Now the rest of his acts and all his ways, from first to last, behold, they are written in the Book of the Kings of Judah and Israel. So Ahaz slept with his fathers, and they buried him in the city, in Jerusalem, for they did not bring him into the tombs of the kings of Israel; and Hezekiah his son became king in his place.
(2 Chronicles 28:22-27 LSB)
The Downward Spiral (v. 22-23)
We begin with the central principle of Ahaz's rebellion.
"Now in the time of his distress this same King Ahaz became yet more unfaithful to Yahweh. Indeed, he sacrificed to the gods of Damascus which had struck him, and said, 'Because the gods of the kings of Aram helped them, I will sacrifice to them that they may help me.' But they became the stumbling of him and all Israel." (2 Chronicles 28:22-23)
The Chronicler wants us to see the direct connection between the "distress" and the increased "unfaithfulness." God sent the trouble to cure the sin, but for Ahaz, the trouble only inflamed the sin. This is the spiritual equivalent of pouring gasoline on a fire to put it out. The phrase "this same King Ahaz" is dripping with condemnation. It tells us that this behavior was not an aberration. This was his character being revealed. Distress did not make Ahaz a rebel; it simply showed everyone that he had been a rebel all along.
But look at the logic he employs. It is the pristine, unadulterated logic of Hell. He says, "The gods of Damascus defeated me. Therefore, I will worship the gods of Damascus." This is not just bad theology; it is sheer madness. This is like a man who gets food poisoning from a restaurant and decides to solve the problem by eating there every day. It is a spiritual Stockholm Syndrome, where the captive falls in love with his captors. He looks at the gods who are instruments of God's judgment upon him and concludes they must be more powerful than Yahweh.
This is the logic of pragmatism divorced from truth. It is the temptation that confronts every Christian. We look at the world, and we see the ungodly prospering. We see their businesses thriving, their political movements advancing, their cultural influence expanding. And the serpent whispers in our ear, "See? Their gods deliver the goods. Their methods work. Why are you clinging to this ancient faith that seems to bring you nothing but trouble?" Ahaz listened to that whisper. He decided to trade the God of Abraham for the gods that were currently winning. He wanted to be on the "right side of history," as our modern pagans like to say.
The result is stated plainly: "But they became the stumbling of him and all Israel." The thing he thought would be his salvation was his ruin. And because he was the king, his personal apostasy became a national catastrophe. A leader's sin is never a private matter. It leaks and seeps and floods, and it always flows downhill, drowning his people in his own folly.
The War on True Worship (v. 24)
Ahaz's rebellion does not stop with importing foreign gods. It necessarily moves to suppressing the worship of the true God.
"Ahaz gathered together the utensils of the house of God. Then he cut the utensils of the house of God in pieces; and he closed the doors of the house of Yahweh and made altars for himself in every corner of Jerusalem." (2 Chronicles 28:24)
This is a crucial progression. Apostasy always begins with syncretism, the attempt to blend true worship with false. But it never stays there. The false gods are jealous gods, and they will not tolerate a rival. Eventually, the God of the Bible must be evicted. Ahaz does not just neglect the Temple; he actively desecrates and dismantles it. Cutting the holy utensils in pieces is an act of profound contempt. It is spitting in the face of Yahweh. It is a declaration that the implements of God's prescribed worship are worthless junk.
Then he locks the doors. He institutes a national shutdown of true worship. He makes it illegal to approach God on God's terms. This is the final goal of every secular and pagan movement. They are not content to have their own altars. They must shut down ours. They cannot stand the silent testimony of a locked church door, let alone an open one. The very existence of God's house is a judgment on their rebellion, so it must be boarded up.
And in place of the one, central Temple of God, he erects "altars for himself in every corner of Jerusalem." He decentralizes and privatizes worship. He replaces God's one way with man's many ways. This is the essence of idolatry. Instead of coming to God's designated place, in God's designated way, Ahaz says, "We will all worship in our own way, on our own terms." He filled the holy city with bootleg altars, making it convenient for everyone to be a pagan.
Nationalizing Apostasy (v. 25-27)
What began in the king's heart and continued in the capital city now metastasizes throughout the entire nation.
"Now in each and every city of Judah he made high places to offer offerings in smoke to other gods, and provoked Yahweh, the God of his fathers, to anger... So Ahaz slept with his fathers, and they buried him in the city, in Jerusalem, for they did not bring him into the tombs of the kings of Israel..." (2 Chronicles 28:25, 27)
Ahaz was an evangelist for a false gospel. He went on a mission to ensure that every town in Judah had access to idolatry. He used the power of the state to promote rebellion against the God of that state. He made it easy to sin and hard to be righteous. And the result was that he "provoked Yahweh... to anger." This was not an accidental byproduct of his policy; it was the inevitable result. To worship other gods is to declare war on the true God.
The record concludes with his death and burial. He is recorded in the official histories, but his end is a disgrace. He is buried in Jerusalem, but pointedly "not... into the tombs of the kings of Israel." He held the office of king, but he did not have the honor of a king. The people themselves, in their final act, rendered a verdict. They recognized that this man, for all his royal trappings, was a traitor to the covenant and a disgrace to the throne of David. He was cast out, a final testimony to his unfaithfulness.
The Logic of the Cross
The story of Ahaz is a dark and cautionary tale, but it is one that shines a bright light on the gospel. Ahaz is a kind of anti-Christ. He is the faithless king who leads his people to ruin. He is a perfect picture of Adam, and of us in Adam. When we are in distress because of our sin, our natural, fallen, Adamic logic is the logic of Ahaz. Our instinct is to double down on the rebellion. We run from the God who disciplines us and seek refuge in the very idols that have enslaved us.
But Jesus is the true King, the second Adam, the faithful Son. In His moment of ultimate distress, hanging on the cross, He was struck not by the gods of Damascus, but by the righteous wrath of Yahweh Himself. And what was His response? Did He curse God and turn to the gods of Rome who were crucifying Him? No, in His darkest hour, He cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" He ran to the very God who was crushing Him. He trusted the Father's plan even through the god-forsakenness of the cross.
This is the logic of the gospel, and it is the complete inversion of the logic of Ahaz. Where Ahaz dismantled the temple, Christ became the Temple. Where Ahaz shut the doors to God, Christ opened a new and living way through His flesh. Where Ahaz cut the holy things to pieces, Christ offered His own holy body as a once-for-all sacrifice. Where Ahaz provoked God to anger, Christ absorbed that anger on our behalf.
Therefore, when you find yourself in distress, you have a choice. You can follow the logic of Ahaz, which is your natural inclination. You can blame God, run to worldly solutions, and harden your heart in rebellion. Or, by grace, you can follow the logic of Christ. You can run to the very God who afflicts you, trusting that He is a good Father who disciplines those He loves. You can confess your sin, abandon your idols, and cling to the cross. The doors of the false temples of this world lead to ruin. But the door of the true Temple, Jesus Christ, is always open to the repentant sinner. He is the faithful King who was cast out so that we, the unfaithful, might be brought in.