Bird's-eye view
This brief but potent proverb lays down a foundational principle for social and political stability: a right relationship with God is inextricably linked to a right relationship with the civil order He has established. Solomon, writing under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, commands a dual fear or reverence, first toward Yahweh, the covenant God of Israel, and second toward the king, God's ordained minister of justice. This is not a command to equate the two, but to recognize that they operate in distinct but overlapping spheres under the ultimate authority of God. The proverb then issues a stern warning against associating with revolutionaries and malcontents, those given to "change" or upheaval. The reason is stark and practical: such movements inevitably bring swift and unpredictable destruction, a calamity that comes from both the offended king on earth and the offended King in Heaven.
In essence, this is a call to be a conservative in the truest sense of the word, not as a modern political label, but as one who seeks to conserve the good order that God has instituted in the world. It is a rejection of the restless, revolutionary spirit that believes it can build a better world by tearing down the existing one. The wisdom here is that true and lasting reform comes from the top down, beginning with the fear of God, which then works its way out into a stable and well-ordered society. To abandon this dual respect is to invite chaos, and chaos, as the proverb warns, is a two-front war you cannot win.
Outline
- 1. The Foundation of Social Order (Prov 24:21-22)
- a. The Dual Commandment: Fear God, Fear the King (Prov 24:21a)
- b. The Prohibition: Avoid Revolutionaries (Prov 24:21b)
- c. The Twofold Warning: Sudden Disaster from Heaven and Earth (Prov 24:22)
Context In Proverbs
This passage is situated within a collection of "sayings of the wise" (Proverbs 22:17-24:34), which often deal with practical righteousness in various spheres of life, legal, commercial, and social. Chapter 24, in particular, contains numerous admonitions regarding justice, neighborly relations, and the proper response to wickedness. These verses (21-22) serve as a capstone to this section, elevating the discussion from individual ethics to the foundational principles of public order. Having addressed how to deal with evil men and false witnesses, the text now addresses the ultimate source of social stability: proper submission to divine and divinely-delegated authority. It forms a crucial link between personal piety (the fear of Yahweh) and public duty (honoring the king), showing them to be two sides of the same coin of godly wisdom.
Key Issues
- The Nature of the "Fear" of God and King
- The Relationship Between Divine and Civil Authority
- The Definition of "Those Who Change"
- The Biblical Case Against Revolution
- The Source of Political Calamity
Two Fears, One Foundation
The modern mind, particularly the modern democratic mind, bristles at the thought of fearing a king. We are taught to be suspicious of authority, not to hold it in reverence. But Scripture operates from a different set of first principles. The world belongs to God, and He has established various authorities within it to maintain order and execute justice. The civil magistrate, represented here by the "king," is one such authority. As Paul tells us in Romans 13, he is "God's minister," a "revenger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil."
Therefore, the fear spoken of here is not the cowering dread of a slave before a tyrant, but rather a profound respect and reverence for the office and the God who established it. The command places the two fears in a specific order: first Yahweh, then the king. This is crucial. Our fear of the king is derivative of our fear of God. We honor the king because we fear God, who set him in his place. When the king commands what God forbids, our duty is clear: we obey God rather than men (Acts 5:29). But this passage addresses the default posture of the righteous man in a functioning society. That posture is one of submission and respect, recognizing that to defy the king's lawful authority is ultimately to defy God. The fear of God is the foundation, and the fear of the king is the first floor built upon it. You cannot have the latter without the former, and if you claim to have the former, it ought to show up in the latter.
Verse by Verse Commentary
21 My son, fear Yahweh and the king; Do not associate with those who change,
The address My son establishes the tone. This is not a dry legal statute but intimate wisdom passed from a father to his heir. The first command is the bedrock of all wisdom: fear Yahweh. This is reverential awe, a holy terror of offending the Creator and Redeemer, which results in obedience and worship. Immediately tethered to this is the second command: fear the king. This is to recognize the king's authority as delegated from God. He wields the sword on God's behalf (Rom. 13:4). To despise his office is to despise the God who ordained it. This is not a call for blind, slavish obedience to tyranny, but a call to respect the institution of civil government as a gift from God for the restraint of evil. The two fears are linked because a man who truly fears God will be a good and peaceable citizen. And a king who truly fears God will rule justly.
The prohibition flows directly from this principle: Do not associate with those who change. The Hebrew word for "change" here carries the sense of repeated action, of being "given to change." This is not talking about those who want to prudently reform a corrupt law. It is describing those with a revolutionary spirit, the perpetually discontented, the agitators, the radicals who believe that the entire system is rotten and must be overthrown. They are the sort who are always looking to "burn it all down." Solomon's wisdom is to give such men a wide berth. Do not get tangled up in their schemes, do not listen to their seditious talk, do not join their movements. Their animating spirit is not the fear of God, but rather a proud and restless discontent that refuses to submit to any authority, human or divine.
22 For suddenly their disaster will rise, And who knows the upheaval that comes from both of them?
Here is the pragmatic reason for avoiding revolutionaries. Their end is disaster, and it comes suddenly. Revolution is a high-stakes gamble that almost always ends in ruin for those who play. The established order, for all its faults, has means of defending itself. But the warning is deeper than that. The disaster is twofold. The text asks, who knows the upheaval that comes from both of them? The "both of them" refers back to Yahweh and the king in the previous verse. When you join a revolution, you make enemies on two fronts. You earn the wrath of the king, who will bring his police power and his army to crush your rebellion. That is the earthly upheaval. But far more terrifying, you earn the wrath of Yahweh, whose good order you have sought to overthrow. That is the heavenly upheaval. The revolutionary imagines he is fighting against an unjust ruler, but in reality, he is picking a fight with God Almighty. And as the proverb implies, no one can calculate the sheer destructive force of that combined wrath. It is a calamity beyond measure, a ruin that comes from heaven and earth simultaneously. Wisdom, therefore, is to live a quiet and peaceable life, fearing God and honoring the king.
Application
In an age that glorifies rebellion and sees revolution as the highest form of political action, this proverb is a bucket of cold water. We are catechized from birth to cheer for the underdog, the revolutionary, the one who "speaks truth to power" by trying to tear it down. But biblical wisdom is profoundly counter-cultural here. It teaches that stability is a gift from God and that our default posture should be one of grateful submission to the authorities He has placed over us.
This does not mean we become passive in the face of injustice. There is a vast difference between principled, lawful resistance and godless revolution. The American War for Independence, for instance, was argued by its proponents not as a revolution to overthrow government, but as a conservative action by lesser magistrates to resist the tyranny of a king who had broken his own laws. But the spirit of our age is more in line with the French Revolution, an atheistic, arrogant desire to tear down every institution and remake the world in man's own image. This is the spirit of "those who change," and we are to have nothing to do with it.
The application for us is to cultivate a deep and abiding fear of God that translates into a respectful and law-abiding posture in our communities. We should pray for our leaders, even the ones we disagree with (1 Tim. 2:1-2). We should pay our taxes. We should be the best citizens, the best neighbors, the most reliable employees. Our saltiness should be seen in our stability, our peaceableness, and our refusal to get caught up in the angry, seditious spirit of the age. And when we must resist, we do so lawfully, respectfully, and with a clear conscience before God, appealing to higher laws and higher authorities, not to the raw power of the mob.
Ultimately, our hope is not in political upheaval. Our hope is in the King of kings, Jesus Christ. He is the one who brings true change, not by burning down the world, but by dying for it and rising again. The greatest revolution in history was not a mob storming a palace, but an empty tomb in a garden. It is through the preaching of His gospel that hearts are changed, and through changed hearts that cultures are transformed from the inside out. That is the only change worth joining, and the only disaster it brings is to the kingdom of darkness.