Some people receive a true word of prophecy, but because they don’t like what God has to say to them, they set out to do everything within their minuscule, unimpressive power to prove God wrong. Such was the case with Ahab, who, upon hearing the word of the Lord, did not relent or change his plans, but took it upon himself to ensure that the prophecy would not come to pass.
Micaiah had told him in no uncertain terms that if he went to
war, he would fall. He likewise told the king that, contrary to what the four
hundred prophets had said, victory would not be theirs that day; Israel would
be scattered like sheep without a shepherd, but all Ahab managed to hear was
the confirmation of his bias against Micaiah, because here he was, given the
chance to cosign what others had said, and instead, once again, like clockwork,
he had prophesied evil concerning him rather than good.
Even when a prophecy is of a personal nature, it’s not
personal. God’s not trying to get your goad; He’s not trying to embarrass you
in front of your friends; He doesn’t have a bone to pick with you, nor did He
single you out before a congregation to make an example of you. His love for
you is what anchors the word of warning or correction, and if you refuse to see
it, bitterness is sure to follow.
If I see my daughters doing something I am certain will be
detrimental to their well-being, if they are about to hurt themselves somehow,
even if they don’t see it because they have neither the experience nor the
maturity level to do so, telling them to stop isn’t hating them or picking on
them; it’s loving them enough to warn them of the danger they’re placing
themselves in.
So what was Micaiah’s recompense for speaking a true word from
the Lord? He got slapped around by one of the four hundred prophets, mocked, and
sent by Ahab to the governor and the king’s son to be put in prison and fed with
the bread and water of affliction until he returned in peace.
Micaiah had spoken the truth, but Ahab had not believed it. He
was certain of his invincibility, to the point that, other than putting him in
prison and feeding him bread and water, he would deal with Micaiah upon his
return. Then Micaiah delivered one of the coldest lines you’ll ever hear or
read anywhere: “If you ever return in peace, the Lord has not spoken by me.”
Pride, arrogance, and hubris played their part in Ahab’s decision,
but no matter how full of himself he was, hearing those words should have given
him reason to pause.
If Ahab truly believed Micaiah was a false prophet, and all
he’d said was out of dislike for him as a person, then he would have taken no
measures to keep the word from coming to pass. He would have stood side by side
with Jehoshaphat at the head of their armies, the tip of the spear, resolute
and unafraid because four hundred prophets had ensured victory.
Instead, he came up with a plan, one that reeked of cowardice
and not a little fear.
1 Kings 22:30, “And the king of Israel said to Jehoshaphat, ‘I
will disguise myself and go into battle; but you put on your robes.’ So the king
of Israel disguised himself and went into battle.”
Men will go to great lengths to ensure that the warnings God
has given them will not come to pass except for doing the one thing God said
they must do in order to avoid disaster, which is to repent. Had Ahab repented in
sackcloth and ash, had he heeded the word of the Lord and not gone to battle,
this moment in Israel’s history would have had a different outcome.
If I show contrition, if I repent, then I would be admitting
to sin. I would be admitting to rebellion. I would be admitting I’m not the man
I pretended to be, so I’ll pretend to be someone else instead, put off my
robes, and take the armor of another, and that way they’ll never know it’s me.
As they arrayed for battle, the king of Syria had one command
for the captains of his chariots, some thirty-eight in number: “Fight no one
small or great, but only with the king of Israel.” Evidently, he knew enough of
warcraft to know that if you take out command and control, if you are able to
fell the general or the king, then the rest of the army is easy prey. There are
so many practical and spiritual applications we can draw from this story,
whether the reality that you can’t trick God, or that you can do a thousand
other things, but if you fail to do the one thing He commanded, it’s still
disobedience; to the more obvious, that even the best-laid plans and manmade defenses
will not deter God from carrying out His plans.
I wonder what was going through Ahab’s mind as he saw the
Syrian army chase after Jehoshaphat while he stood in his chariot, disguised as
just another soldier. My plan is working. I’ll show that Micaiah; he thought he
could scare me, but I’m smarter.
Then a certain man drew his bow at random, loosed his arrow,
and struck the king of Israel between the joints of his armor. He wasn’t aiming
at him; he hadn’t recognized him. A random act in the heat of battle sealed
Ahab’s fate that day, and all his plans and dreams of conquest bled out of him
as he realized that you can’t spite God, and the man you hated for speaking the
truth to you was only doing what the Lord had commanded him to do.
By the time the arrow struck him between the joints of his
armor, it was too late for redress. Ahab died propped up in his chariot, facing
the Syrian army, and his pride, hubris, and rebellion bled out of him with
every crimson droplet that hit the floor of that chariot. It is the great folly
of man that only once it’s too late does he see the error of his ways.
1 Kings 22:37-38, “So the king died and was brought to
Samaria. And they buried the king in Samaria. Then someone washed the chariot
at a pool in Samaria, and the dogs licked up his blood while the harlots
bathed, according to the word of the Lord which He had spoken.”
With love in Christ,
Michael Boldea, Jr.