Verses sixteen to twenty-nine, inclusive, of the eighth chapter of the
second Book of Kings should be compared with the twenty-first chapter of
the second Book of Chronicles. The name Joram is an obvious contraction
of Jehoram. Joram and Jehoram were practically interchangeable terms.
The king of Israel is called Joram, and the king of Judah Jehoram. In
another place Joram is the name of the king of Judah. In two other places
both kings are called Jehoram.
Jehoram “walked in the way of the kings of Israel, as did the house of
Ahab”--in other words, as the house of Ahab acted. Jehoram, as son-in-law
of Ahab and Jezebel, gave his patronage to the worship of the Tyrian Baal.
Jehoram had examples enough before him of the fate which had befallen
idolatrous worship, and yet, turning his eye backward upon all the ruins
which had been created by divine anger, he pursued his evil way as if
the Lord had approved the house of Ahab and its idolatry rather than
manifested His judgments upon them.
Rational men may well ask themselves how it is that history is lost on
some minds. They look backward and see that from the beginning sin has
always been followed by punishment, and punishment has in many cases been
carried as far as death itself. Yet in view of all the suffering, and in
full sight of the innumerable graves dug by the hand of justice, they
continue the same policy without one particle of alteration.
One would have supposed that, looking at the history of the kings of
Israel, Jehoram would have said:
“I see now exactly what to avoid; and to see what to avoid is to begin
to see what to cultivate and establish. It is perfectly evident that the
worship of Baal is doomed, or that wherever it is set up divine anger
instantly and severely attests the displeasure of God. It must be my
care, therefore, to destroy every trace of idolatry, and build up faith
in the true God.”
This would have been called reflective and philosophical on the part
of the king, and indeed any thing that stood opposed to this course of
reasoning would seem to be marked by incredible fatuity.
The contrary, however, is the exact fact. With all the evidences of
divine displeasure around him Jehoram continued in the worship of Baal,
or in some other form of idolatry which might appeal to the popular
imagination or gratify the desires of his own corrupt fancy.
It is easy for moralists to condemn this neglect of history, and to point
out to those who, having neglected it, come into suffering and loss, that
they ought to have been wise before the event; but the very same thing is
done even by the moralists who criticize the course of Jehoram and his
predecessors.
This is the sin of every age, and it should be looked at clearly and
acknowledged frankly, because until we do bring ourselves into vital
relation to it our reasoning will be founded on false bases and will
hasten itself to false conclusions.
All history is teaching us that the wages of sin is death; that the way
of transgressors is hard; that, though hand join in hand, the wicked
shall not go unpunished; that the face of the Lord is as a flint against
evil doers. Yet, with this plainest of all lessons written on the very
face of history, men are doing today as their predecessors did centuries
ago, and will probably continue to repeat the folly and the wickedness
until the end of time.
Surely, this is as curious a puzzle as any that occurs in all the annals
of human history. It would seem, indeed, to be more than a puzzle; to
be, in fact, indicative of a suicidal disposition on the part of the
actor. It would not be tolerated in any other department of life.
If a man had known that a hundred of his ancestors were killed by
drinking a certain liquid, and he thus knowingly put that liquid to his
lips, the iniquity of his suicide would be aggravated by the knowledge of
what had occurred in the records of his family.
How many murders, then, may he be said to accomplish who murders himself
as to his moral nature and spiritual cultivation? He does not do it in
ignorance. All history is surrounding him with its evidence, and is doing
its utmost to secure his attention, and he himself is not unwilling to
acknowledge that the testimony of history is uniform and absolute. Yet
some immeasurable force within him drives him with infinite fury to the
repetition of every sin and the defiance of every judgment.
What was the reason of all this patronage and support of idolatry?
Jehoram had an excellent father, and if any thing was to be expected from
the operation of the law of hereditary dispositions, it would be that
Jehoram would be of the same quality as Jehoshaphat.
Some curious and energetic influence must have been at work to throw
back all hereditary quality and convert the man into a totally different
nature. What was that influence? An expression in the eighteenth verse
explains its nature and its scope: “For the daughter of Ahab was his
wife.”
Wherever we find the name of Ahab we also find the presence of evil.
Ahab lived again in his daughter, though Jehoshaphat did not repeat
himself in his son. “The evil that men do lives after them.” Jehoram was
under home influence; and is not home influence most potent of all? It is
a daily influence; it begins with the early morning and continues all the
day through. It does not assume aggressive attitudes or excite suspicion
by tumult and defiance of temper. It is noisy or quiet, persistent or
reluctant, energetic or languid, according to the peculiar circumstances
of the family history. At this moment a word too energetically spoken
might defeat its own object; at another moment a languid reference might
be more than a vehement appeal; and on still other occasions anger,
fury and clamor may bring to a point a long process of suggestion and
education.
This is the mystery of home life.
The plotter waits for opportunities, creates them, puts them in the way
of his victim, measures distances, regulates the methods of approaches.
He studies his prey, watches him with an evil eye, remembers all his
words, weighs them, calculates all their unspoken meanings, and at the
right moment interposes his own influence. Wicked men in this respect are
often models to good men.
The enemy of souls never rests.
“Your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom
he may devour.”
Nor is he always a lion. Sometimes he is as a serpent, and sometimes
even as an angel of light. But his evil policy never hesitates. When
he blesses, it is that he may curse; when he leads his victim into the
light, it is that he may have the greater influence over him to persuade
him into the darkness.
Is it of no consequence with whom we live our daily life? Is the married
relation one that expresses mere taste or momentary pleasure? Are not the
companionships of life its true sources of tuition and inspiration?
A man who is in happy fellowship at home may over-get some of the worst
hereditary infirmities and disabilities, and may be encouraged into
attainments of correct self-discipline and virtue which under other
circumstances would be simply impossible.
The conversion of the world, it would seem, must begin at home. We
must have happier married relations, fuller domestic confidence, riper
household trust and sympathy.
Out of all this daily education, under happy influences, there may come a
kind of character rich in its own quality and beneficent in its influence
on society.
Jehoram had provoked the Lord, yet so pitiful is the God of Heaven that
He spared Judah for the sake of David, His servant, as He promised to
give David always a light. But Jehoram was, nevertheless, severely
punished for his wickedness.
In his days Edom revolted from under the hand of Judah, and made a king
over themselves. Libnah also revolted at the same time. Thus the peace of
the kingdom was broken up, and Jehoram was made indirectly to suffer for
the sin of idolatry.
How quietly the twenty-third verse reads! It says: “And the rest of the
acts of Joram, and all that he did, are they not written in the book of
the chronicles of the kings of Judah?” It would seem as if the bad king
had simply fallen asleep like a tired child.
But in the second Book of Chronicles we read that Jehoram died of sore
diseases, and that “the people made no burning for him”--that is, the
usual honors of a sovereign were withheld in this particular case.
Jehoram died in contempt and neglect. He departed without being desired;
in other words, he departed without regret--died unregretted. He was not
refused burial in the city of David, but his body was not laid in the
sepulchers of the kings.
Thus, sooner or later, wickedness finds out a man, and brands him with
dishonor. If, under other conditions, wickedness is carried to the grave
amid great pomp and circumstance, it is only that the dishonor may be
found in some other quarter--in the hatred of good men and in the bitter
recriminations of those who have been wronged.
Set it down as a sure doctrine that, whenever a bad man is buried,
dishonor attaches to his whole name, and contempt withers every flower
that may be planted over his grave.
The words “but not in the sepulchers of the kings” may receive a larger
interpretation than the technical one which belongs to this immediate
circumstance. Men are buried in the sepulchers of the kings when their
lives are full of beneficence, when their names are the symbols of
noble charity, large-minded justice, heroic fortitude, tender sympathy
for others. Their burying place is not a merely topographical point.
Their relation to the hearts that knew them, their place in the memory
of those who lived with them, the tears which are shed over the
recollection of their good deeds, the void which has been created by
their removal--all these constitute the royalty of their interment.
The end of Jehoram, king of Judah--who would choose it?