Among the most interesting (and a bit confusing) stories in First Kings is the account of Jeroboam and the unnamed “man of God” in 1 Kings 13. The narrative occurs shortly after the division of the united monarchy. Jeroboam, fearing that continued worship in Jerusalem would eventually draw the hearts of his people back to the house of David, established alternative sanctuaries at Bethel and Dan and appointed priests outside the divinely sanctioned Levitical order (1 Kgs. 12.26–33).
Into this setting comes a mysterious prophet from Judah. Remember, Jeroboam is in charge in the north, what the text will call the Kingdom of Israel. The person giving us this story never tells us the name of the prophet from the southern kingdom of Judah. While Jeroboam stands at the altar in Bethel offering sacrifice, the prophet cries out against the altar itself, foretelling that a future king named Josiah would one day desecrate it by burning human bones upon it (1 Kgs. 13.2). Now, by having human bones on this altar, the altar itself would essentially become worthless, as it would be desecrated. The specificity of the prophecy is astonishing, for Josiah wouldn’t even be born for around 300 years! For this reason, many commentators have stated that the final version of this story could not have been textualized until around 620 BC.[1]See the commentary on 1 Kings 13 in The Jewish Study Bible. The prophecy is later fulfilled in remarkable detail in 2 Kings 23.15–20, making this one of Scripture’s clearest examples of prophecy and fulfillment.
When Jeroboam attempts to seize the prophet, his hand suddenly withers, and the altar splits apart as a sign of the judgment of God. The king then pleads with the prophet to intercede on his behalf, and his hand is restored (whew!). At this point the narrative appears complete: the prophet has spoken the word of the Lord, performed signs, and demonstrated divine authority. We’re all done right? Not quite.
It’s here that the story then takes an unexpected bit of a twist.
The prophet had been given a direct command from God: he was not to eat bread, drink water, or return by the same route that he took when coming up north to Israel. As he journeys home, an older prophet from Bethel intercepts him and claims that an angel has revealed a new instruction from God (1 Kings 13.18), inviting him to return and dine with him. This prophet is apparently lying to the prophet from Judah (1 Kings 13.18), but the man of God from Judah accepts the older prophet’s claim, and heads to his house for a meal.
Ironically, it is then the older prophet, the prophet in Bethel who lied, who receives a genuine revelation declaring judgment upon the man of God for disobeying the original command (to not eat or drink). On his journey home, the prophet from Judah is killed by a lion that neither devours the body nor attacks his donkey, signaling to the reader that this is no ordinary animal attack but a message from God. Talk about divine judgment taken to the extreme!
This enigmatic episode raises a host of troubling questions. Why does the man of God from Judah become entangled with a prophet from Bethel? Why does the older prophet deceive him, thereby setting in motion the events that lead to his death? Is the deception intended as a divine test, a calculated ruse, or evidence of a deeper conflict between the two prophets? Are both men genuine prophets of God? What exactly is the offense for which the man of God suffers such a severe judgment? I mean, really? A meal gets you killed by a lion!? Why is the man of God punished for his disobedience while the prophet who lied to him gets off totally free? Every person with whom I have ever discussed this story has raised this very question. Finally, does the narrative portray God as acting arbitrarily, or is there a deeper theological purpose behind these disturbing events? I often explain that this story was written in another time and place. Entering the world of the biblical authors can feel like traveling to a foreign land; their assumptions, values, and ways of thinking are often so different from our own that they seem almost alien.
The narrative’s theological point, seems to stress that divine revelation carries with it an obligation of unwavering fidelity. The Old Testament often drives this point home to the extreme. The man of God had already received a direct command from the Lord. However persuasive another prophetic claim may have appeared, it could not nullify the revelation he had already received, at least in the mind of the author of this bit in First Kings.
The story therefore becomes a lesson on revelation and discernment, at least from one perspective. A person may hear many voices claiming divine authority, but previous revelation cannot be casually abandoned merely because someone else comes along with a different message from God. The man of God’s mistake lies not in following a false prophet per se, but in setting aside a command that he knew had come directly from the Lord.
The narrative also serves a broader theological purpose within the books of Kings. It functions as a condemnation of Jeroboam’s religious innovations and as a vindication of the reforms of King Josiah centuries later (see 2 Kings 23). The Deuteronomistic Historian who put together the record of 1-2 Samuel and 1-2 Kings really loves Josiah. He is better than sliced bread. So to him, Josiah’s reforms are important for understanding why the temple was destroyed and also to better understand how awful the Kingdom of Israel was, at least from his perspective. Bethel’s altar is doomed from the moment the prophet speaks against it, and the story anticipates the eventual destruction of the northern kingdom’s unauthorized worship.
At a deeper level, however, the account teaches an enduring principle: revelation requires both discernment and a serious commitment to being obedient. This is a big lesson in 1-2 Kings. If you are not obedient, bad things are coming. Those who receive divine instruction are accountable for what they have been given, and even sincere religious claims must be measured against the word that God has already spoken. In fact, to some, this story isn’t even about true or false prophecy at all. It is about obedience. One commentator put it this way:
The nabi’s (prophet’s) lie is of interest … only with respect to its effect, not to its motivation How is it that the nabi (the prophet) could only make up a word from YHWH by lying? The text does not ask the question. Nor does the problem of possible punishment of the nabi arise. The lie is only of interest because and to the degree that it is suited to move the plot forward. 1 Kings 13 is not about false prophecy. It is about obedience and disobedience.[2]Walter Gross. 1979. “Lying Prophet and Disobedient Man of God in 1 Kings 13: Role Analysis as an Instrument of Theological Interpretation of an OT Narrative Text.” Semeia 15: 123.
References
| ↑1 | See the commentary on 1 Kings 13 in The Jewish Study Bible. |
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| ↑2 | Walter Gross. 1979. “Lying Prophet and Disobedient Man of God in 1 Kings 13: Role Analysis as an Instrument of Theological Interpretation of an OT Narrative Text.” Semeia 15: 123. |