Kingdom Divided: Good Kings, Bad Kings, and the Road to Exile


When we last left the story of God’s kingdom people, David had passed the crown to his son Solomon. David’s reign was far from perfect, but he was remembered as “a man after God’s own heart.” Solomon, with his legendary wisdom and his building of the temple, seemed poised to continue that legacy. Yet the seeds of division were already being sown.

Solomon loved the Lord (1 Kings 3:3), but he also loved foreign wives and their gods (1 Kings 11). His compromises fractured the nation spiritually, and after his death, the kingdom literally split in two: Israel in the north and Judah in the south (1 Kings 12). From this point forward, the biblical story of the monarchy becomes a tale of two nations, each with its own kings, prophets, triumphs, and failures.


Two Thrones, Two Paths

The northern kingdom of Israel had nineteen kings in total, beginning with Jeroboam I. Not a single one is described in Scripture as faithful to the Lord. Jeroboam set up golden calves so the people wouldn’t go to Jerusalem to worship (1 Kings 12:28–30), and every king after him walked in his idolatrous footsteps. Though some were politically successful or militarily strong, spiritually the nation was on a steady downward slope.

Judah, on the other hand, had twenty kings. Most were unfaithful, but a handful are remembered as “good” – not because they were flawless, but because they sought the Lord and led reforms. Kings like Asa (2 Chronicles 14), Jehoshaphat (2 Chronicles 17), Hezekiah (2 Kings 18), and Josiah (2 Kings 23) stand out as bright lights in a darkening landscape. They tore down idols, reinstituted temple worship, and called the people back to covenant faithfulness.

Still, even the “good” kings were inconsistent. Joash started well under the guidance of the priest Jehoiada, but later abandoned the Lord (2 Chronicles 24). Amaziah “did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, but not wholeheartedly” (2 Chronicles 25). Uzziah was faithful for most of his reign but became proud and overstepped his authority in the temple (2 Chronicles 26). The chronicler doesn’t whitewash the record; he shows us leaders who were mixed bags – a bit like us?


“Some listened. Most did not.”

The Prophetic Warnings

Throughout these centuries, God did not leave His people without a voice. Prophets like Elijah and Elisha, Amos, Hosea, Isaiah, Micah, and Jeremiah spoke truth to kings and nations. They confronted idolatry, called out injustice, and reminded the people that covenant blessings were tied to covenant faithfulness (Deuteronomy 28).

But most of the time, the prophets were ignored – or worse, persecuted. Think of Elijah standing alone on Mount Carmel, calling Israel to choose between the Lord and Baal (1 Kings 18). Think of Jeremiah weeping as his warnings fell on deaf ears (Jeremiah 9). Again and again, the prophets said: Return to the Lord, or exile is coming.


Patterns of Faithfulness and Rebellion

Reading through 1 and 2 Kings or 2 Chronicles, we see a pattern emerge. A king rises to power. If he does evil, the nation slides further into idolatry. If he does good, there’s often a brief reprieve, a season of reform, but it rarely lasts. With the next generation, the pendulum swings back toward rebellion.

The northern kingdom never once turned the tide. Every king “did evil in the sight of the Lord.” After centuries of warning, God allowed Assyria to conquer Israel in 722 BC (2 Kings 17). The ten northern tribes were scattered, never to return in the same form.

Judah limped along for another 135 years. Good kings gave the nation moments of hope, but the general trend was downward. Finally, under the weight of idolatry, injustice, and stubborn rebellion, God allowed Babylon to destroy Jerusalem in 586 BC (2 Kings 25). The temple was burned, the walls torn down, and the people carried into exile.


Why This Matters

It’s tempting to read this history as ancient political drama, but I think Scripture invites us to see something deeper. The story of Israel and Judah is the story of human hearts. Left to ourselves, we tend to drift toward idolatry. We start well and falter. We follow God for a season but slip back into self-reliance, pride, or compromise.

The kings of Israel and Judah remind us that leadership matters, but more importantly, they remind us of our need for the greater King. David pointed toward Him (2 Samuel 7:12–16). Solomon’s wisdom hinted at Him (Matthew 12:42). The prophets longed for Him (Isaiah 9:6–7). And though the line of kings failed (which, remember, the people asked for), God promised a Son of David who would reign forever in justice and righteousness (Jeremiah 23:5–6). That King is Jesus.


Living in the Tension

So what do we do with this mixed record of good and bad kings? Perhaps we’re meant to sit in the tension. To acknowledge both the warnings and the hope. The warnings show us the cost of disobedience: exile, loss, brokenness. The hope points us to the faithfulness of God, who never abandons His people even in their rebellion (Lamentations 3:22–23).

The exile was not the end of the story. God brought His people back (see Ezra and Nehemiah), rebuilt Jerusalem, and in the fullness of time, sent His Son (Galatians 4:4-5). The line of David was never truly broken; it was fulfilled in Christ.

As we reflect on the divided kingdom, maybe a takeaway is this: our faithfulness wavers, but God’s faithfulness never does…

If we are faithless, he always remains faithful. He cannot deny his own nature. (2 Timothy 2:13, Phillips).

We don’t need another human king to save us. We already have One who has conquered sin and death, who reigns forever, and who invites us to live as citizens of His unshakable kingdom (Hebrews 12:28).


Israel

My wife, Barb, and I recently returned from a 10-day pilgrimage to Israel. The opportunity to join a group from our community on a pilgrimage surfaced about a year ago. Though not sure of the financial ability to make the trek, Barb and I agreed together that we should move toward this experience.  It seemed right to the Holy Spirit and us (cf Acts 15:28).

When I started this blog three years ago, I had two things in mind.  I discovered over the years that I am able to process my theological learnings and ponderings through writing, especially if I’m writing for others to understand (I credit my doctoral work at Bethel University for solidifying this for me).  So blogging has become a means of processing for me and in this posting, I will start to assess the amazing opportunity we had to visit the land central to our faith.

Secondly, I want to develop a theology that is practical, both for me and those reading these blog posts.  Thus the descriptor of this blog: We each need a theology that is practical for day-to-day living. A simple definition of theology is the attempt to understand God and what he is up to. Practical Theology Today is a blog focused on gaining a better understanding of God so that we can join in his work.

Though we went on this pilgrimage because it seemed right to the Holy Spirit and us, I didn’t go simply to “get closer to God” (though that certainly happened). I think I traveled to the Holy Land to solidify my theology (keeping in mind the definition of theology), further my understanding of God, and ultimately enlighten my journey as a Christ-follower.  So please join me as I start processing my trip…

Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives

As I said, this was a pilgrimage.  Our leaders, David and Elizabeth Sparks of Footstep Ministries, regularly referred to our time together as a pilgrimage. I’m beginning to understand the significance of the terminology. By definition, a pilgrimage is a journey of a pilgrim. A pilgrim is one that journeys in foreign lands and travels to a shrine or holy place as a devotee. We certainly got to do that. The second definition of pilgrimage is the course of life on earth. The pilgrimage continues!

Pilgrimage is the course of life on earth.

With Context as one of my top CliftonStrenghts, I suspect visiting the land we call Holy will have a transformative effect on my ongoing pilgrimage. It occurred to me that God is the designer of the concept of pilgrimage (i.e., regular journeys to the temple) as part of the Israelite’s course of life (with their God).

Four times a year they were instructed to trek to the temple in Jerusalem for various festivals, with Passover as the granddaddy of them all. As we immerse ourselves in the Gospels as Christ-followers, we read several times about Jesus and his disciples, his students, going up to Jerusalem to attend a festival (the last one, the Passover, leading to his crucifixion).

Consider that journey, that pilgrimage from the Galilee region to Jerusalem in the first century. It was a 100-mile (160 km) walk, covering most of a week. They would typically travel south along the Jordon River to Jericho, then west the final 20 miles (32 km) up into Jerusalem on the road made famous by Jesus in the Parable of the Good Samaritan. [When the Gospel authors wrote “go up to Jerusalem,” that’s what they literally meant. The elevation of Jericho is roughly -850′ (-260 m) – yes, below sea level. Jerusalem’s elevation is close to 2500′ (760 m) above sea level – a climb of 3350′ (1020 m).]

The road from Jericho to Jerusalem (on the far side of the wadi)

As a Lenten practice this year, I’ve been reading through the Gospels. One does not need to spend a lot of time immersed in the Gospels to realize that Jesus and his disciples did a lot of walking. In addition to their regular Jerusalem treks, they traveled from Capernaum out to the Mediterranean Sea, north to Tyre and Sidon, north to Caesarea Philippi, south to Samaria – to name a few of their journeys. After seeing the very rugged, hilly, and rocky geography and topography of Israel, I’m beginning to realize how much time they spent together “on the road” (or on pilgrimage?) navigating the terrain.

As we immerse ourselves in the Gospels, we begin to realize that much of Jesus’ teaching was directed toward his followers as they journeyed from place to place, as they trekked the hills and valleys of Israel. It’s the nature of following – being with Jesus and learning from him (see Follow the Leader). I picture those first-century followers watching Jesus proclaim the Kingdom of God throughout Galilee with an approach significantly different than they had ever seen or expected, then Jesus taking them on long treks, pilgrimages, where he could help them understand what was going on, help them better understand the God of the Kingdom.

As Christ-followers, we are on a lifelong pilgrimage to seek and understand the God of the Kingdom. May it not be just a course of life on earth but rather the course of our life on the earth. Immersion in the Gospels is primary to our pilgrimage; a trip to Israel is a close second!