Bird's-eye view
This passage records one of the most brazen acts of defiance against God in the entire Old Testament. Having heard the words of God's judgment from the scroll written by Baruch at Jeremiah's dictation, King Jehoiakim of Judah does not repent like his father Josiah had. Instead, in a calculated act of supreme contempt, he systematically destroys the physical scroll, cutting it apart and burning it piece by piece. This is not a fit of pique; it is a formal, royal rejection of the authority of Yahweh. The king, sitting in his comfortable winter palace, believes he can nullify God's prophetic word by destroying the paper it is written on. The scene is a stark illustration of a hardened heart. The king and his courtiers show no fear, no remorse. The narrative climaxes with the king attempting to arrest the prophet and his scribe, but the final word belongs to God, who sovereignly protects His messengers. This event seals the fate of Judah, demonstrating that its leadership is beyond repentance and ripe for the judgment the scroll announced.
The core of the passage is the dramatic confrontation between the word of man and the Word of God. A petty earthly king, with his knife and his fire pot, pits himself against the Creator of heaven and earth. The outcome is never in doubt. The king's actions do not avert the judgment; they confirm it and make it more severe. God's Word cannot be disposed of so easily. It is indestructible, and as the subsequent verses show, God simply has Jeremiah dictate it all again, with additions. This is a permanent lesson on the futility of fighting against God and the enduring power of His revealed Word.
Outline
- 1. The King's Contempt for God's Word (Jer 36:20-26)
- a. The Cautious Report to the King (Jer 36:20)
- b. The Scroll Summoned and Read (Jer 36:21-22)
- c. The Royal Act of Destruction (Jer 36:23)
- d. The Calloused Reaction of the Court (Jer 36:24)
- e. The Futile Intercession (Jer 36:25)
- f. The Attempted Persecution and Divine Protection (Jer 36:26)
Context In Jeremiah
This chapter, Jeremiah 36, takes place in the fourth and fifth years of King Jehoiakim's reign (around 605-604 B.C.). This is a critical time. The Babylonian empire under Nebuchadnezzar has recently defeated the Egyptians at Carchemish and is now the undisputed superpower in the region. Jeremiah has been prophesying for over two decades, consistently warning Judah to repent and submit to the yoke of Babylon, which he identifies as God's instrument of judgment. Because Jeremiah was "restricted" from entering the temple, he dictated God's prophecies to his scribe, Baruch, who then wrote them on a scroll and read them publicly. The earlier part of the chapter details this process and the fearful reaction of the officials who first heard the message. They recognized the gravity of the words and decided the king must be informed. This sets the stage for the direct confrontation in our passage. The incident stands in stark contrast to the story of Jehoiakim's own father, King Josiah, who, upon hearing the words of the Law, tore his clothes and led the nation in repentance (2 Kings 22). Jehoiakim is the anti-Josiah, and his response demonstrates the final apostasy of the Davidic throne before the exile.
Key Issues
- The Inviolability of Scripture
- The Nature of a Hardened Heart
- The Difference Between Godly and Ungodly Fear
- The Sovereignty of God in Protecting His Messengers
- The Futility of Rebelling Against God's Decrees
- The Responsibility of Rulers Before God
The Fire and the Fury
There are two kinds of fear in this story. First, there are the officials, who heard the scroll and were afraid (v. 16). Theirs was a political fear, a fear of consequences. They knew the king's temperament, and they knew these words would cause a political firestorm. So they took precautions, hiding the scroll and carefully managing how the news was delivered. This is the fear of man, which brings a snare. Then there is the fear that was absent. When the king and his servants heard the words, they were not afraid. They did not have the fear of God, which is the beginning of wisdom. They should have been terrified. They should have torn their garments, covered themselves in sackcloth and ashes, and begged God for mercy. Their lack of fear was not a sign of courage, but of spiritual death. Their consciences were cauterized. When a man can hear the direct warnings of Almighty God and feel nothing but irritation, he is standing on the very brink of damnation. Jehoiakim's fury was directed at the scroll, but his rebellion was directed at the God who authored it. The fire in the brazier was a pale imitation of the divine fire of judgment that his actions were kindling against himself and his kingdom.
Verse by Verse Commentary
20 So they went to the king in the court, but they had deposited the scroll in the chamber of Elishama the scribe, and they declared all the words in the hearing of the king.
The officials are walking on eggshells. They understand the gravity of the message and the volatility of the king. Their decision to deposit the scroll elsewhere before approaching the king is a calculated political move. They are trying to control the fallout. They give the king a verbal summary, a second-hand report. Perhaps they hoped that by softening the delivery, they could mitigate the king's reaction. But you cannot manage the Word of God. It is not a political memo to be massaged and spun. It is a lion, and the only question is whether you will bow before it or be devoured by it.
21 Then the king sent Jehudi to get the scroll, and he took it out of the chamber of Elishama the scribe. And Jehudi read it in the hearing of the king as well as in the hearing of all the officials who stood beside the king.
The king is not content with a summary. He wants the primary source document. He summons Jehudi, a court attendant, to fetch the scroll and read it aloud. The stage is now set for a formal confrontation. This is not a private matter. The Word of God is read in the hearing of the king and all his ranking officials. The entire leadership of Judah is now officially put on notice. They are all witnesses to what is about to happen, and they will all be held accountable for their response.
22 Now the king was sitting in the winter house in the ninth month, with a fire burning in the brazier before him.
The details here are telling. It is the ninth month, which would be late autumn or early winter. It is cold, and the king is in his "winter house," a residence designed for comfort during the cold season. He is sitting before a brazier, a portable heater filled with burning coals. The scene is one of royal comfort, ease, and worldly security. It is from this posture of self-satisfied comfort that he will launch his rebellion against Heaven. The fire, a symbol of warmth and domesticity, is about to become an instrument of sacrilege.
23 And it happened that when Jehudi had read three or four columns, the king cut it with a scribe’s knife and threw it into the fire that was in the brazier, until all the scroll was consumed in the fire that was in the brazier.
This is the heart of the narrative. The king cannot even bear to hear the whole thing. After just a few columns of text, he has heard enough. He takes a "scribe's knife," a small penknife used for sharpening reed pens or making corrections on parchment. The irony is potent: he uses a tool designed for the service of the Word to destroy the Word. This is not a single, impulsive act. He cuts off a section, throws it in the fire, listens to a bit more, and repeats the process. It is a methodical, deliberate, and deeply contemptuous act. He is treating the holy words of God like trash to be disposed of. He believes that by burning the scroll, he can cancel the prophecies written on it. This is the ultimate folly of the ungodly ruler. He thinks his knife and his fire are more powerful than the decree of God.
24 Yet the king and all his servants who heard all these words were not in dread, nor did they tear their garments.
The spiritual condition of the court is laid bare. Not just the king, but all his servants, his yes-men, his cronies. They watch this horrifying act of blasphemy unfold, and they feel nothing. No dread, no fear, no shock. They do not perform the traditional act of tearing their garments, which signified profound grief or righteous horror. Compare this to Josiah, who tore his robes upon hearing the Law. The contrast could not be more stark. Jehoiakim's court is spiritually dead. They are complicit in his rebellion through their cold indifference.
25 Even though Elnathan and Delaiah and Gemariah interceded with the king not to burn the scroll, he would not listen to them.
God always has his remnant, even in the most corrupt of places. Three officials, whose names are recorded for our benefit, had the courage to speak up. They pleaded with the king to stop. Their presence makes the king's sin all the more inexcusable. He was not without a righteous voice of counsel. He was not acting in ignorance. He was explicitly warned by his own men, and he willfully rejected their plea. His will was set against God's, and he would brook no opposition.
26 And the king commanded Jerahmeel the king’s son, Seraiah the son of Azriel, and Shelemiah the son of Abdeel to take Baruch the scribe and Jeremiah the prophet, but Yahweh hid them.
The rebellion escalates. Having destroyed the message, the king now seeks to destroy the messengers. This is the classic pattern of tyrants. When you cannot refute the Word, you persecute the one who speaks it. He issues a royal command for the arrest of Baruch and Jeremiah. But the king's command runs up against a higher authority. The verse ends with one of the greatest "buts" in Scripture: but Yahweh hid them. The king's power, which seems so absolute in his winter palace, has a very short leash. He can burn a scroll, but he cannot touch God's prophets without God's permission. The Lord's sovereign providence is the final reality. The king's plan is thwarted by the simple, omnipotent will of God.
Application
We may not have a winter palace or a brazier full of coals, but the temptation to be like Jehoiakim is with us every day. Every time we encounter a portion of Scripture that offends our modern sensibilities, that challenges our cherished sins, or that calls us to a costly obedience, we are holding a scribe's knife. The temptation is to cut that portion out. We may not do it physically, but we do it in our hearts. We explain it away, we ignore it, we decide it "doesn't apply" to us. The liberal scholar who cuts out the miracles is wielding Jehoiakim's knife. The woke pastor who cuts out the Bible's teaching on sexuality is wielding Jehoiakim's knife. The believer who reads the commands to evangelize or care for the poor and then does nothing is wielding Jehoiakim's knife.
The proper response to the Word of God is not to edit it, but to let it edit us. The Word of God is a sword, and it is meant to cut. It is meant to pierce our hearts, to divide our soul and spirit, and to expose our innermost thoughts and intentions. We must not be like Jehoiakim, who refused to be judged by the Word and was therefore judged for his refusal. We must be like Josiah, who trembled at the Word, tore his garments, and humbled himself before the Lord. The choice is between the king's fire, which consumes the scroll but seals his doom, and the refiner's fire of the Word, which burns away our sin and makes us holy.