One of the Saddest Texts in the Old Testament

Three Old Testament sections devote considerable space to the life and times of King Hezekiah and disclose what a good and faithful man he could be (2 Kings 18–20; 2 Chron. 29–32; Isa. 36–39). We gladly remember his far-reaching efforts to lead the nation into reformation in line with Torah, and we’re moved by Hezekiah’s stunning courage and faithful trust when he’s forced to confront Sennacherib, the king of Assyria.

None of these three Old Testament documents glosses over Hezekiah’s moral failures. But two of the three (2 Kings and Isaiah) treat one of his failures in a distinctive way that generates a narrative of surpassing sadness. For the sake of simplicity, I’ll focus on Isaiah 39:1–8 and draw attention to three details.

Moral Contrast

Like many biblical narratives, this chapter provides the capstone to stunning moral contrast.

After witnessing Hezekiah’s faith and courage in Isaiah 36–37, and after meditating on his extraordinary prayer in 37:14–20, we cannot help but feel let down when we learn about his whining self-pity in chapter 38 and his foolish boasting to the Babylonian emissaries in 39:1–2, which leads to the staggering divine rebuke of 39:5–7. How can the same man be so good and so bad, so wise and so foolish, so God-centered and so self-focused? We like our heroes and models to be a little more consistent. The moral contrast is not only startling—it’s discouraging.

How can the same man be so good and so bad, so wise and so foolish, so God-centered and so self-focused?

Yet this isn’t what makes Isaiah 39 one of the saddest texts in the Old Testament. There’s no warrant to extract a superlative out of this narrative: so far, it’s sad enough but certainly not the saddest. Abraham, that great man of faith and father of the faithful, lies so shamefully that he endangers his wife; Moses, that most humble of men, vents his frustration in self-righteous anger when he strikes the rock; David, a man after God’s own heart, is not only a blameworthy father but an adulterer and a murderer.

And if we look for New Testament examples, we soon think of Peter, the apostle who is shown by the Father who Jesus is and yet three times denies him. True, there are a handful of characters in the Bible about whom nothing negative is recorded (e.g., Joseph, Daniel, Esther), but their number is vastly exceeded by those whose lives betray discouraging contradictions and deep contrasts. Hezekiah is among these.

Perversion of Providence

While holding to some form of the doctrine of providence, Hezekiah twists it to no good purpose. He tips his hat to honor God’s sovereignty but applies it to his life with a perverse willfulness: he commits himself to wholehearted submission to God’s will in order to secure his own selfish desires. When envoys from Babylon come to Israel, Hezekiah endangers the kingdom by bragging about their wealth. God rebukes Hezekiah through the prophet Isaiah, warning of the disastrous judgment ahead: the wealth of the kingdom will be “carried to Babylon. Nothing shall be left” (Isa. 39:6). Moreover, the impending disaster will have a personal dimension: “Some of your own sons, who will come from you, whom you will father, shall be taken away, and they shall be eunuchs in the palace of the king of Babylon” (39:7).

Hezekiah’s response? “The word of the LORD that you have spoken is good” (39:8). At first glance, you might think Hezekiah wants nothing more than the will of God, even if that will spells judgment. But the last line of verse 8 betrays his selfish heart. Hezekiah can sound so sanguine about the terrible justice hanging over him and his dynasty because he thinks, “There will be peace and security in my days” (39:8).

Contrast David’s response to the threat of judgment.

In the wake of the adultery and murder he committed, David is told judgment will befall the nation and his son born to Bathsheba will die. David repents of his sin, and Nathan the prophet declares, “The LORD also has put away your sin; you shall not die. Nevertheless, because by this deed you have utterly scorned the LORD, the child who is born to you shall die” (2 Sam. 12:13–14). For the next week, as the child fights for his life, David clothes himself in dust and ashes and refuses to eat.

The infant eventually dies, and David’s attendants are hesitant to tell their master. But when the tragic news is revealed, David washes, puts on clean clothes and lotions, worships the Lord, and then sits down to a good meal. In his response to his attendants’ confusion, David shows himself to be so different from Hezekiah:

He said, “While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept, for I said, ‘Who knows whether the LORD will be gracious to me, that the child may live?’ But now he is dead. Why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.” (2 Sam. 12:22–23)

David hears the pronouncement of God’s judgment and knows it’s deserved, but he also recognizes God is more than raw will. God interacts with his people, and he is merciful: despite the divine decree, perhaps the child will be spared.

Hezekiah too recognizes the will of God, and he too knows the pronounced judgment is deserved, but his affirmations of God’s will are blindingly selfish. He offers no intercession for the people over whom he rules. Even when he’s told some of his own descendants will be castrated in the wretchedness of war, he remains unmoved. This king who could face down Sennacherib now cares for no one, not even his children and grandchildren, more than he cares for himself. It was once said of this king,

He trusted in the LORD, the God of Israel, so that there was none like him among all the kings of Judah after him, nor among those who were before him. For he held fast to the LORD. He did not depart from following him, but kept the commandments that the LORD commanded Moses. And the LORD was with him; wherever he went out, he prospered. (2 Kings 18:5–7)

But Hezekiah ends up with no horizon larger than his own comforts. There’s a sad poignancy in this narrative.

Judgment and Hope

Hezekiah serves as a tangible demonstration of one of the great themes of Isaiah 40–66. In some ways, this sad chapter, Isaiah 39, announces one of the drumbeats that resounds through the rest of the prophecy. The prophet’s focus keeps flipping back and forth between spiritual vitality and catastrophic condemnation. God is immeasurably merciful; Israel is immeasurably unfaithful (Isa. 43:14–28). Israel is chosen by God; Israel cherishes worthless idols (Isa. 44) and pursues iniquity and injustice (Isa. 59). Jerusalem will be restored (Isa. 44:24–28; 51:1–16; 54) and Israel will be freed (Isa. 48:12–15; 49:8–21), but with salvation comes judgment (Isa. 65).

Isaiah’s focus keeps flipping back and forth between spiritual vitality and catastrophic condemnation.

Even in the closing two chapters, there is both judgment and hope: new heavens and a new earth, along with ghastly failure and death.

Whether in the profile of one individual leader or the whole covenant people of God, we’re called to press on—to emulate the examples of courageous faith and to grieve bitterly over the examples of blistering selfishness. The voice of the exalted Master still says, “Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life” (Rev. 2:10).