Just because our Scripture reading for this week was 1 Kings doesn't mean that it was easy to decide what to preach on. It's so full of illustrations of the use and misuse of power that I could probably spend the whole month before moving on to 2 Kings, which is just as rich with examples of folly and cruelty and greed. Well, call it by its proper name, sin. One particularly famous story is the one about Solomon’s judgment, when he decided between the claims of two prostitutes to be the true mother of a baby boy. Another fruitful field for exploration is about King Solomon and his women. He had wives and concubines from every place you could think of and a few more besides, and when was old, his wives turned away his heart after other gods. [1 Kings 11:4-6] Then of course there’s the unsuccessful rebellion against Solomon’s rule... But we know all about powerful, popular, womanizing leaders, and the divisive, demoralizing effect of unsuccessful rebellions, don’t we. There's nothing new under the sun.
But even with such a wealth of subject matter to pick from I decided to focus on the transfer of power. Why? We're so good at the peaceful transfer of power here in America, aren't we, that it couldn't possibly tell us anything about ourselves, could it? So what did happen when Solomon’s long reign came to an end?
Rehoboam was Solomon’s son. Scripture doesn’t tell us whether or not there were any other sons. It would be surprising, wouldn’t it, if there hadn’t been, given all the wives and concubines? David had far fewer, and yet his reign was filled with his children’s shenanigans, rape and murder and treason, among others. But there doesn’t seem to have been any alternative to Rehoboam. Even after he blows the succession, and the kingdom falls apart, no ambitious half-brother rises up to take his place.
But what we do know is that Rehoboam is in his 40’s, desperate to prove himself, to be independent of his father, to prove himself to be a true “alpha male’ as well, to come at last out of Solomon’s shadow and make the kingdom his own. And Solomon dies, and Rehoboam goes to Shechem to be crowned.
Why Shechem? I’m sure you’re all dying to know. But seriously, that is an important question. Because now the center of the country is unquestionably Jerusalem. That’s where the king lives, that’s where the ark of the covenant is, that’s where the temple is. Why Shechem?
Shechem was full of history. It is where Joseph’s bones were buried. It was the place of the covenant. After Joshua had brought the people into the promised land, that is where they gathered to renew their covenant promises.
And Joshua said to all the people, “Now therefore revere YHWH... put away the foreign gods that are among you, and incline your hearts to YHWH, the God of Israel.” The people said to Joshua, “YHWH our God we will serve, and him we will obey.” So Joshua made a covenant with the people that day... Joshua wrote these words in the book of the law of God; and he took a large stone, and set it up there under the oak in the sanctuary of YHWH. Joshua said to all the people, “See, this stone shall be a witness against us; for it has heard all the words of YHWH that he spoke to us; therefore it shall be a witness against you, if you deal falsely with your God.” [Joshua 24:2, 24-27]
Shechem is also the place where Gideon’s son Abimilech tried unsuccessfully to make himself king back in the days of the Judges.
I think it is unlikely that Rehoboam chose this place for his coronation. I think he was summoned by the tribes to give an accounting of his plans for the kingdom, and to reassure the people that he would rule them in accordance with the covenant.
King Solomon had a terrific record. His country was prosperous and at peace. His reputation abroad was second to none; you may remember the story of how the Queen of Sheba came to visit him, to “test him with hard questions” [1 Ki 10:1] and the impression she took back with her was that “not even half was told; in wisdom and wealth you have far exceeded the report I heard.” [1 Ki 10:7] His reputation rested not only on his wisdom and his wealth, but on his relationship with God. And yet by the time he died, the people were not happy. They wanted a different kind of leadership from Rehoboam. And so they called him to Shechem.
The rebel Jeroboam, an Ephraimite who had been the son of one of Solomon’s officials, was called back from exile in Egypt by the other 10 tribes - the ones not related to David and David’s line - when Solomon died, to be their spokesman.
[He] and all the assembly of Israel came and said to Rehoboam, “Your father made our yoke heavy. Now therefore lighten the hard service of your father and his heavy yoke that he placed on us, and we will serve you.” [1 Ki 12:3-4]
Well, Rehoboam doesn’t know what to say to this. So he seeks advice. He goes first to the old ones, the ones who had served his father; they tell him that the way to get what he wants is to be diplomatic, to tell the people what they want to hear. He didn’t like that. I mean, after all, how would Solomon have reacted if they had dared to speak to him like that? Surely he wouldn’t have let them get away with such rank insubordination! And besides, he’s already had enough kowtowing and toeing the line to last him a lifetime. So Rehoboam goes to his cronies, the young men who’ve been hanging around with him all these years waiting for their turn in the sun as well, and they tell him what he wants to hear.
“Thus you should say to this people who spoke to you, ‘Your father made our yoke heavy, but you must lighten it for us’; thus you should say to them, ‘My little finger is thicker than my father’s loins. Now, whereas my father laid on you a heavy yoke, I will add to your yoke. My father disciplined you with whips, but I will discipline you with scorpions.’” [1 Ki 12:10-11]
Rehoboam likes the sound of this; that’s what a king should talk like, I can almost hear him thinking. So he follows his friends’ advice, the people reject him, and they pack up their tents and go home. Rehoboam made an abortive attempt to bring the rebels into line, but it didn’t work. From that day on, the kingdom was divided. The tribe of Judah had Jerusalem and the hill country around it; the other tribes had everything else to the north.
Well, this is all very interesting - or then again, maybe not. Maybe it’s all just incredibly boring and far away. Solomon may have one or two things in common with our current leadership, but the parallels aren’t exact; Joe Biden and Donald Trump aren’t Rehoboam and Jeroboam, either. And no politician would dare speak to the people the way Rehoboam did. If there’s anything our politicians know how to do, it’s how to tell the people what they want to hear.
The northern tribes did wind up choosing their own leader, but it was hardly anything we would recognize as democracy.
So what can we learn?
There are two crucial lessons here. One is very brief, but absolutely crucial.
And that is, YHWH was in charge of the whole process. He told Solomon that the united kingdom would not survive his death, and it didn’t. Now, I think that Rehoboam could have reversed that, by seeking God’s wisdom and recommitting himself to the covenant. History shows us that God is very responsive to genuine repentance. But he didn’t. Rehoboam didn’t acknowledge God’s place in this at all, at least as far as we can tell from the text.
And the second lesson is, that the only rights it is ever wise to insist upon are the ones given to us by God. What made Solomon a great king (until he got old and his wives let him astray) was his recognition that his job was to serve the people on behalf of God. He didn’t have a right to any of it; he had learned that - not least from watching his various brothers try to get the throne away from David. And he hadn’t intrigued for it; David and Nathan and Bathsheba put the deal together. Solomon just barely made it, getting anointed while his half-brother Adonijah was holding a victory feast.
Rehoboam, on the other hand, thought he was entitled to obedience, simply by virtue of his birth. (Ah, the trials of being born a rich kid!) And, of course, according to the standards of the kingdoms around him, he was. He had the right to give orders, and have them obeyed. He had the right to levy and collect taxes, at whatever rate he wanted to set. He had the right to make laws and enforce them, to draft people to forced labor to build roads and palaces. He had become Pharaoh. And the people were near enough to their covenant memories to resent it, and reclaim their rights as freed people in a sort of new Exodus, with Jeroboam as a sort of Moses figure. What they did with their freedom is another matter; Jeroboam winds up acting more like Aaron, but that story is for another day. The point is, that there is no room for the language of rights in the covenant community. The language of the covenant community is about mutual obligation.
The problem with all of those rights that Rehoboam wanted to claim is that each one of them is about power over other people; that is, they can only be exercised by taking something away from someone else: freedom or time or money or respect. And that is, I think, something that is true of every so-called right that is not given by God.
What rights do we think we have? Every time you think to yourself, “I have a right,” ask yourself two questions. First, “Is it a right given to you by God?” that is, something on the order of life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and the right to be called the children of God (the most important one) or is it a right that involves making a claim on another person? Remember, that if it is a right given by God, it is a right that everyone has, not just you. God does not play zero-sum games, where one person gains only at the expense of someone else.
The second thing to ask yourself is, “If I give this right up temporarily, will it advance the cause of the job God has given me to do?” The example of Jesus Christ is one of voluntary relinquishment of rights... remember how much he gave up to be with us? [Phil 2:5-8] Not just the awful death at the end, but the whole life of poverty and service, when he could have been basking in the homage of angels. The language of the new covenant is not about rights, but about service.
There’s a poem I learned in high school, that has stuck with me through all these years... actually, poem is to dignified a name for it, it’s a jingle. “This is the grave of Mike O’Day, who died maintaining his right of way. His right was clear, and his will was strong, but he’s just as dead as if he’d been wrong.”
Clinging to that particular right wasn’t immoral, just dumb. But rights come in all flavors. Some are won by might, some are established by law, and others are freely given by God. But a very good way to judge a person is how they handle their rights - and how they handle the rights of others.
I'm not going to judge between the claims of any political figure. But if you hear anyone talking about rights, make sure that they're defending the rights given by God, and not making claims against other human beings whose rights are equally dear to God. God has given me the right to my life, my liberty, my property, my pursuit of happiness. He has not given me the right to yours.
