The Penknife and the Unblinking Eye Text: Jeremiah 36:20-26
Introduction: Two Kinds of Kings
There are two ways to respond to the Word of God. We see them contrasted perfectly in the history of Judah's last kings. Just a generation before our text, King Josiah, a righteous king, had the book of the Law discovered and read to him. His response was to tear his garments in repentance, humble himself before Yahweh, and lead the entire nation in covenant renewal. He heard the words of judgment and trembled. He submitted to the authority of the text.
In our passage today, we have his son, Jehoiakim. He also has the Word of God read to him, a scroll containing all the warnings and judgments Jeremiah had prophesied for over two decades. But his response is the polar opposite of his father's. He does not tear his garments; he tears the Word of God. He does not tremble; he sits there, warming himself by the fire, casually, contemptuously destroying the very words that could have saved him and his kingdom. This is not just a historical anecdote. It is a living parable of every human heart's reaction to the claims of God. You will either tear your robes in submission to the Word, or you will take a knife to the Word in your rebellion.
This scene is a stark illustration of what happens when a man, particularly a man in authority, believes he is the ultimate standard. Jehoiakim thought he could edit reality by destroying the evidence. He believed that by burning the scroll, he could nullify the judgment written on it. This is the perennial folly of godless rulers. They think that if they can silence the prophet, they can escape the prophecy. They imagine that by outlawing the truth, they can make it untrue. But as we will see, God's Word is not so easily disposed of. You can burn the paper, but you cannot burn the fire. You can kill the messenger, but you cannot stop the message. Jehoiakim's penknife is a pathetic little toy waved in the face of the Almighty, and his act of defiance only serves to seal his own doom and demonstrate the utter indestructibility of the Word he so despised.
The Text
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. 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. Now the king was sitting in the winter house in the ninth month, with a fire burning in the brazier before him. 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. Yet the king and all his servants who heard all these words were not in dread, nor did they tear their garments. Even though Elnathan and Delaiah and Gemariah interceded with the king not to burn the scroll, he would not listen to them. 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.
(Jeremiah 36:20-26 LSB)
The Confrontation in the Court (v. 20-22)
We begin with the scroll being brought before the king.
"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. 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. Now the king was sitting in the winter house in the ninth month, with a fire burning in the brazier before him." (Jeremiah 36:20-22)
The officials who first heard the scroll read by Baruch were afraid. They recognized the gravity of the message. Their first instinct was to protect the messengers, telling Baruch and Jeremiah to hide, and then to report the matter to the king. They even tried to soften the blow by first giving the king a verbal summary. But the king is not satisfied with a second-hand report. He wants to see the document for himself. He sends Jehudi to fetch it.
The scene is set with deliberate, almost mundane detail. It is the ninth month, which would be late autumn, and it is cold. The king is in his winter house, a cozy setting, with a firepot, a brazier, burning before him to provide warmth. This is a picture of creature comfort and royal privilege. The king is insulated from the harsh realities outside. He is comfortable. And it is into this bubble of self-satisfied comfort that the raw, unaccommodating Word of God is about to intrude.
This is precisely how the Word of God always comes to us. It comes into our "winter houses," into the comfortable arrangements and justifications we have built for ourselves. It comes to disrupt our peace, to challenge our authority, and to call our cozy little kingdoms into question. The fire in the brazier is a symbol of the king's self-sufficiency, his ability to control his environment. But it is about to meet a different kind of fire, the fire of the Word of God itself. "Is not my word like fire," declares the Lord, "and like a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces?" (Jeremiah 23:29).
The King's Contempt (v. 23-25)
Next, we witness the king's blasphemous response.
"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. Yet the king and all his servants who heard all these words were not in dread, nor did they tear their garments. Even though Elnathan and Delaiah and Gemariah interceded with the king not to burn the scroll, he would not listen to them." (Jeremiah 36:23-25 LSB)
The king doesn't even let Jehudi finish. After just a few columns, he has heard enough. The words of judgment, the warnings of Babylonian invasion, the calls for repentance, all of it is an intolerable offense to his royal dignity. So he takes a scribe's knife, a small blade used for sharpening reed pens or making corrections, and he begins to methodically slice up the scroll. This is an act of calculated contempt. He doesn't just toss the whole thing in the fire. He dismembers it, piece by piece, column by column, and feeds it to the flames.
He is demonstrating his authority over the Word. He is saying, "I am the editor here. I will decide what is true. I will determine what reality is." This is the primordial sin of Adam, re-enacted in a king's winter palace. It is the creature declaring his autonomy from the Creator. By destroying the scroll, Jehoiakim believes he is destroying the threat. He is like a modern secularist who thinks that by deconstructing the Bible, he has disarmed it. He is like the fool who smashes the barometer because he doesn't like the forecast.
And notice the reaction, or lack thereof, from his court. "Yet the king and all his servants who heard all these words were not in dread, nor did they tear their garments." This is a damning indictment. Their consciences have been seared. Their fear of the king has completely eclipsed their fear of God. They are yes-men, courtiers who take their cue from the man on the throne rather than the God who put him there. A few of them, to their credit, try to intervene. Elnathan, Delaiah, and Gemariah plead with the king not to burn the scroll. They have some vestige of the fear of God left. But the king will not listen. When a man's heart is this hard, even the counsel of his friends is useless.
The proper response to the Word of God, especially a word of judgment, is dread and repentance, symbolized by the tearing of garments. Josiah did it. The Ninevites did it. But Jehoiakim and his cronies are unmoved. Their hearts are as cold as the winter weather outside. This is a terrifying spiritual state to be in, to be able to hear the unvarnished truth of God's judgment and feel nothing but annoyance.
The Futility of Rebellion and the Sovereignty of God (v. 26)
The final verse of our passage shows the king's impotent rage and God's sovereign protection.
"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." (Jeremiah 36:26 LSB)
Having destroyed the message, the king now moves to destroy the messengers. This is the logical next step for every tyrant. If you can't refute the Word, you silence the one who speaks it. He dispatches members of the royal family and high officials to arrest Baruch and Jeremiah. He wants to put a permanent end to this prophetic nuisance.
But here we see the beautiful, quiet, and absolute sovereignty of God. The verse ends with a simple, magnificent statement: "but Yahweh hid them." The king has his soldiers, his authority, his royal command. But God has hiding places. The text doesn't tell us how He hid them. It doesn't matter. God's providence is not limited by human schemes. He can make men invisible. He can lead them down an alley the soldiers don't search. He can put a thought into a captain's head to go left instead of right. The machinery of the state, with all its power, is utterly helpless when God decides to protect His own.
This is a profound comfort for the church in every age. The powers of this world may rage. They may issue their decrees, send out their agents, and seek to stamp out the testimony of the faithful. But the Lord knows how to hide His people. He is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. The king's arm is long, but God's arm is longer. The king's eyes are sharp, but they are blind to the secret places of the Most High.
Conclusion: The Unburnable Word
Jehoiakim's little bonfire accomplished nothing. In the very next verses, God commands Jeremiah to get another scroll. "Take another scroll and write on it all the former words that were in the first scroll, which Jehoiakim the king of Judah has burned" (Jer. 36:28). And then God adds a personal note for the king: not only will all the original judgments come to pass, but a specific judgment is added for him. His dead body will be cast out, exposed to the heat of day and the frost of night, and he will have no descendant to sit on the throne of David (Jer. 36:30). The very act of rebellion he thought would save him only added to his condemnation.
This is the central lesson. You cannot destroy the Word of God. You can burn it, ban it, ignore it, or mock it, but it remains. "The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever" (Isaiah 40:8). Every attempt to suppress the truth only proves its resilience. For two thousand years, kings, emperors, dictators, and atheistic regimes have tried to do what Jehoiakim did. They have thrown the Bible into the fire, and all they have managed to do is burn their own hands.
The ultimate expression of this principle is the cross. The rulers of this world took the Word made flesh, Jesus Christ, and they did their worst to Him. They scourged Him, mocked Him, and nailed Him to a cross. They thought they had silenced Him for good. They put the Word in a tomb and rolled a stone in front of it. But on the third day, the unburnable, indestructible Word of God walked out of that tomb, having conquered sin and death. The fire of God's wrath, which should have consumed us, was poured out on Him, and He absorbed it all.
Therefore, we are left with the same choice as the court of Jehoiakim. We have the Word of God read in our hearing. We can sit back in our comfortable winter houses, take out our little penknives of sophistication and autonomy, and try to carve up the parts we don't like. Or we can do as Josiah did. We can hear the Word, tremble, tear the robes of our self-righteousness, and fall down in repentance before the King whose Word can never be broken. One path leads to the fire of judgment; the other leads to the life everlasting, hidden safely with Christ in God.