1 Kings 20:31 - Meaning and Application

This is the account of what happened after Israel’s victory over the Syrians. Ben-hadad showed a weak and shameful submission. Even in his inner room, he was afraid and would have fled farther if he could, though no one was chasing him. His servants saw that both he and they were now in desperate danger, so they advised him to surrender and throw himself on Ahab’s mercy for their lives (1 Kings 20:31).

The servants were willing to risk their own lives first, and their master would follow if that worked. They chose this course because kings of Israel had a reputation for kindness above other rulers. They had heard that Israel’s kings were merciful and not harsh to those under their power, and so they reasoned that such kings would also spare enemies who had fallen into their hands. Perhaps they had heard that the God of Israel had declared himself gracious and merciful, and they assumed Israel’s kings would copy him.

That was a honor for the kings of Israel, because every Israelite should be clothed with compassion. They said, in effect, “These are merciful kings, so perhaps we will find mercy if we humble ourselves.” Poor sinners have the same reason to repent and humble themselves before God. “Have we not heard that the God of Israel is merciful? Have we not found him to be so? Then let us tear our hearts and return to him” (Joel 2:13). True repentance grows from seeing God’s mercy in Christ, because forgiveness is found with him.

Ben-hadad’s servants planned to present two things to Ahab. First, they would present their master as a penitent man. They dressed him in sackcloth, the rough clothing worn by mourners, and put ropes on their heads like condemned prisoners going to execution. They acted as if he were truly sorry for invading the land and disturbing the peace, and as if he admitted he deserved death for it. Many people pretend to repent only when their evil plan fails. If they had succeeded, they would have defended it and boasted about it.

Second, they would present their master as a beggar, begging for his life. “Your servant Ben-hadad says, ‘Please let me live’” (1 Kings 20:32). Even if he must live as an exile from his own land and a captive in another, he begs for life on any terms. What a change this was. He had fallen from power and comfort into shame, trouble, poverty, and slavery. Human affairs are uncertain, and the one who is on top now may soon be at the bottom.

His temper had also changed. At the start of the chapter, he was harsh, proud, and threatening, asking for everything. Here he is crouching and pleading, asking for his life from the man he had once trampled. Proud people are often most broken in hardship. A steady spirit, by contrast, stays much the same in both good times and bad. God shows his greatness when he humbles the proud and brings them low (Job 40:11-13).

Ahab foolishly accepted Ben-hadad’s submission and quickly made peace with him. He was proud to be treated this way by the man he had feared, and he even asked about him with tenderness, “Is he still alive? He is my brother” (1 Kings 20:32). Ahab cared more about Ben-hadad’s rank than about true religion. He valued royalty more than faith, and others treated him that way too.

But Ben-hadad had not acted like a brother before. He had sent that cruel message to Ahab (1 Kings 20:5-6). Would he have called Ahab brother if he had won? Would he have called himself Ahab’s servant if he had not been in such a helpless position? Ahab should not have let himself be fooled by forced and fake humility. Still, the word “brother” was enough to persuade him, and his servants went and brought Ben-hadad to the king (1 Kings 20:33). Since Ahab called him brother, he let him live.

Poor repentant sinners should do the same with God’s word. When God calls them children (Jeremiah 31:20), they should seize on that promise and respond to it, calling him Father. Ben-hadad was not only brought in honor to Ahab, with Ahab taking him up into the chariot, but was also treated like an ally (1 Kings 20:34). Ahab made a covenant with him without asking God’s prophets, the elders of the land, or even himself what should be demanded.

He could have asked for some of Ben-hadad’s cities, since the Syrian army was at his mercy. He might also have demanded the supplies, treasures, and storehouses of Damascus to strengthen his own kingdom. Instead, he settled for a small concession, the right to build streets in Damascus at his own cost. This was only a matter of honor and brought him no real gain. It was no more than what the kings of Syria had been allowed in Samaria, though they had never had the power to demand so much from him.

So Ahab sent Ben-hadad away, and did not even rebuke him for his blasphemous words against the God of Israel, because Ahab had no concern for God’s honor. There are people on whom success is wasted. They do not know how to use prosperity for God, for others, or even for their own good. Let favor be shown to the wicked, yet he will not learn righteousness.

Then a prophet came to reprove Ahab for sparing Ben-hadad and making a covenant with him. He did this in the name of the Lord. The Jews say this prophet was Micaiah, and that is likely, since Ahab later complained that Micaiah often prophesied bad things about him (1 Kings 22:8). The prophet intended to rebuke Ahab through a parable, so that Ahab would condemn himself, as Nathan did with David and the woman of Tekoa did with David.

To make the parable convincing, the prophet had to appear as a wounded soldier. He first had some trouble getting himself wounded, because he did not want to wound himself. He asked one of his fellow prophets, his neighbor or companion, to strike him in the name of the Lord (1 Kings 20:35). But the man refused. He seemed to think that others were ready enough to strike prophets, so there was no need for prophets to strike one another. We cannot help thinking his refusal came from a good heart. If it had to be done, he preferred that someone else do it, not him. He could not bring himself to strike his friend.

Good people often find it easier to receive an unfair blow than to give one. Yet because this man disobeyed a clear command from God, and especially if he himself was a prophet, he was quickly killed by a lion, just as another disobedient prophet had been before (1 Kings 13:24; 1 Kings 20:36).

This was meant, not only to show in general how offensive disobedience is (Colossians 3:6), but also to hint to Ahab, who had no doubt heard the story, that if a good prophet was punished for sparing his friend and God’s enemy when God said, “Strike him,” then a wicked king deserved even worse punishment for sparing his own enemy and God’s enemy when God said, “Strike him.” Can a mortal man claim to be more just than God, more pure, or more compassionate than his Maker? We must be merciful as God is merciful, and in no other way.

The next man he met had no problem striking him, and he did it so that he wounded him (1 Kings 20:37). The Latin phrase means, “One who asks for harm is not injured by it.” The blow drew blood, probably from his face.

Wounded as he was, and with ashes on him so he would not be recognized as a prophet, he brought his case to the king in a story. In that story he blamed himself for the same kind of wrong the king had just committed in sparing Ben-hadad. He then waited for the king’s judgment. The case was this: a prisoner taken in battle was put in someone’s care by a man, likely a superior officer, with this command, “If he is missing, your life will be for his life” (1 Kings 20:39). But the prisoner escaped because of his carelessness. Could the king’s court protect him from his captain, who now demanded his life in place of the prisoner’s? “By no means,” said the king. “You should either never have taken on the trust, or you should have been more careful and faithful. There is no remedy. The law must take its course. You have broken your promise, and judgment must be carried out. That is your own sentence.”

Then the prophet got what he wanted. He took off his disguise, and Ahab recognized him as a prophet (1 Kings 20:41). He then said plainly, “You are the man. Is this my sentence? No, it is yours. You have judged yourself by your own words. God, your superior and commander in chief, handed over to you a man clearly marked for destruction, both by his own pride and by God’s providence. Yet you did not lose him by accident, but released him on purpose. In that way, you failed in your trust and lost the purpose of your victory. So expect nothing else than that your life will go for his life, which you spared” (and so it did, 1 Kings 22:35), “and your people for his people, whom you also spared” (and so they did later, 2 Kings 10:32-33). When their other sins brought them down, this sin was counted against them too. There is a time when refusing to shed blood is really doing the Lord’s work carelessly and falsely (Jeremiah 48:10). Foolish mercy ruins a city.

We are also told how Ahab took this rebuke. He went to his house sad and angry (1 Kings 20:43). He was not truly sorry, or trying to undo what he had done wrong. Instead, he was angry at the prophet, bitter toward God, as if God had been too harsh in the sentence against him. At the same time, he was upset with himself, so he was displeased in every way, even after his victory. God had used his providence to humble one king’s pride, and now his word cast a shadow over another king’s triumph. So be wise, O kings, and learn to serve the Lord with fear and to rejoice with trembling (Psalm 2:10-11).