I And II Chronicles: A Commentary (The Old Testament Library)

by Sara Japhet

Solomon was merely to bring to realization the enterprises already planned to the letter and fully prepared by David.

the literary method whereby the Chronicler expresses and emphasizes his priorities, not only by content and phrasing, but by purely technical factors of length, detail, and repetition versus brevity. (Cf. for example 25.2–6, where the relative eminence of Asaph, Jeduthun and Heman is expressed by the increasing length of their respective descriptions.) This deliberate elaboration and eloquence in the very midst of seemingly stereotyped formulae is a significant literary device.

However, nowhere in any of these descriptions is there mention of the spoil being dedicated to God. The Chronicler thus ‘corrects’ the incomplete picture in his sources by supplying the missing detail.

It would seem, however, that even in this detail, as in many others which we will encounter, there is a note of polemic against I Kings 1–2, where the salient features of David’s figure are his advanced age and helplessness. Feeble and venerable, David conducts the matter of his successor from the hidden recesses of his chamber. With one stroke of the pen, this verse presents a diametrically opposed portrait: having assembled at Jerusalem an enormous multitude, David ‘rises to his feet’ and, full of vigour, addresses the assembly. It is also possible that the Chronicler models his portrayal of David on the example of Moses, whose ‘eye was not dim nor his natural force abated’ (Deut. 34.7).

The dominion over Israel is in fact God’s, and the actual Davidic ruler is seen as ‘sitting on the throne of the kingdom of the Lord’. This peculiar Chronistic view is a synthesis of two originally contrasting views: the kingdom as belonging to God himself, and the kingdom as that of the Davidic dynasty.

The similarity between the two situations, already found in the original sources, is greatly augmented by the Chronicler’s treatment of the figures of David and Solomon. In addition to the actual transfer of leadership, there are other common elements: the first leader is the great founder, who established enduring institutions: Moses – the people, the covenant, the Law; David – the monarchy, the dynasty. The first leader did not live to realize what he regarded as the peak and climax of his mission (for Moses, the conquest of Canaan; for David, the building of the Temple) and had to leave the stage to his successor in obedience to God’s command. Yet, while denied actual attainment, the first leader undertook many of the preparatory steps: Moses by fighting the east Jordanian kings and bringing the people to the threshold of Canaan; David by making all the necessary preparations for the Temple. In both cases the younger leader derives his power and authority from his predecessor, and a conscious attempt is made to describe the former in terms reminiscent of the latter.

In Chronicles, by contrast, while Solomon’s wisdom is barely indicated (‘Wisdom and knowledge are granted to you’, v. 12), his material wealth and honour are boundless: ‘such as none of the kings had who were before you, and none after you shall have the like’ (v. 12). Solomon’s greatest fame, and God’s choicest gift, is therefore not Solomon’s wisdom but his wealth – a feature which characterizes all of the narrative which follows.

Another matter which is peculiar to Chronicles is the insistence that here, as in all other aspects of the preparation, Solomon only complements and finalizes what David has already begun.

While in Kings, Solomon’s wisdom is valued in its own right and associated with God’s revelation at Gibeon (‘. . . an understanding mind to govern thy people’, 3.9), here the goal of that wisdom is the Temple building project.

[10] Strong emphasis is placed on the observation that the ark contained the two tablets. The negative phrasing ‘there was nothing in the ark except . . .’ has a strong polemical edge, which may be directed against either pagan or popular concepts of the ark, which attributed certain magical powers to it or viewed it as containing ritual objects or images, or against other traditions which regarded the ark as holding other holy artefacts such as ‘the jar of manna’ (Exod. 16.33) or the ‘rod of Aaron’ (Num. 17.10 [MT 17.25], cf. Gray, Kings, 210; Curtis, 338).

Throughout the prayer, God’s pardon is expressed by a divine act of restoration: ‘bring them again to the land’ (v. 25), ‘grant rain upon thy land’ (v. 27), etc. The Chronicler rephrases the reference to ‘the land which thou gavest to their fathers’ (I Kings 8.34) to read: ‘the land which thou gavest to them and to their fathers’ (v. 25). This slight alteration reflects a very Chronistic view (Japhet, Ideology, 386ff): the land was not given at one time to ‘the fathers’, to be automatically inherited by later generations; each Israelite receives the inheritance anew, and must prove himself worthy of it.

It is interesting, however, that in spite of the set pattern and the repetition of certain catch-phrases, each passage is different; as the prayer develops, elaboration and detail increase.

In Chronicles (vv. 20–21), this balance is disrupted, and the Temple is given the central place. For ‘Israel will become a proverb’ v. 20b reads ‘I will make it (i.e. the Temple) a proverb’. Thus, except for a short anonymous reference to the people, ‘I will pluck you (them) up from the land’, all references are now to the Temple: ‘this house I will cast out . . . and make it a proverb . . . everyone passing by will be astonished’. This feature links the passage more closely to its context: the dedication of the Temple.

It should be noted that the term miṣwāh (command, commandment) is repeated three times in vv. 13–15, corresponding to the three authorities which the Chronicler recognizes for any cultic ordinance (cf. Japhet, Ideology, 234–9); Moses, as the authority for the sacrificial system; David, responsible for clerical reorganization and the introduction of liturgical music; and the reigning king, as ad hoc authority in situations requiring intervention, most notably in the times of Hezekiah and Josiah. Here, at the most relevant point, when the regular ritual is established in the Temple for generations to come, all the three are mentioned together.

The heavy yoke of service which Solomon imposed on the people is a point which the Chronicler systematically suppressed (cf. I Kings 5.13–14 [MT 27–28]; ‘and this is the account of the forced labour which king Solomon levied’ in I Kings 9.15 – all omitted in Chronicles). Even administrative arrangements for the supplying of food for the royal table by twelve officers (I Kings 4.7–19) are absent from Chronicles, as well as the extravagant descriptions of Solomon’s provisions (I Kings 4.22–23). If we base ourselves on the history of Solomon as told in Chronicles, the people’s complaint has no basis whatsoever and is merely a false provocation, an excuse for rebellion which should never have been humoured. Indeed, this is the situation described in the Chronicler’s own account through Abijah’s speech in II Chron. 13.6–7.

While the old men answered in straightforward prose, the young men speak in elevated aphorisms. Their reply seems to meet every requirement of professional counselling: it repeats and redefines the question; it relates precisely to the point at hand; it is adequately presented with metaphors and rhetorical acumen. However, from a political and psychological point of view, lacking a deeper evaluation of the situation in its entirety, the counsel of the ‘young men’ must lead to disaster.

This attitude provides an interesting parallel to Exod. 5.7–8, where Pharaoh’s answer to the request of Moses and Aaron follows the same lines: ‘You shall no longer give the people straw to make bricks . . . let them go and gather straw for themselves. But the number of bricks . . . you shall by no means lessen.’ The similarity between Pharaoh’s attitude and that of Reho-boam’s young counsellors is the most striking demonstration of the enstrangement of the king from his people; this is tyranny unmasked.

The word ‘harshly’ (qāšāh) is well chosen: it is from the same root as ‘heavy’ and ‘hard’ (haqqāšāh, hiqšāh) in v. 4; Solomon burdened his subjects with heavy labour, while here Rehoboam his son treats them harshly with the utterances of his mouth. Moreover, ‘harshly’ is the opposite of ‘softly’, advised by the book of Proverbs as the correct behaviour in time of anger (Prov. 15.1; 25.15).

Since Chronicles describes the history of the northern kingdom only through the perspective of Judah, the literary pattern here is of one uninterrupted narrative rather than a synchronic one, and no new literary pattern is introduced with the schism.

Viewed from the perspective of the centralization of the cult, the legitimate priests and Levites could serve only in Jerusalem; against the background of the Second Temple system of rotating divisions, this opportunity was now denied them by the schism, since to dwell in the northern kingdom prevented their free communication to Jerusalem. Their only chance to realize their privilege to serve God was to move to the kingdom of Judah. And as is clear from the words ‘Jeroboam and his sons cast them out’, ‘his sons’ referring to all the following kings of northern Israel, the very separate existence of this kingdom will continue to prevent the priests and Levites from realizing their privilege and duty.

For three years Rehoboam and the people ‘walked in the way’ of the Lord (11.17); in the fourth year they sinned (12.1); in the fifth they were punished (12.2–4).

The context here is very different from that of I Kings 14.25–28, which is focussed more on the question how the kingdom of Judah lost the precious ‘golden shields’ made by Solomon than on military issues. Shishak’s royal inscription at Karnak, which provides a detailed topographical list of over 150 localities captured by Shishak during his campaign, reveals that Shishak’s targets were mostly in northern Israel and in the non-fortified areas of the Negeb, rather than in Judah. It is therefore possible that even the limited perspective of I Kings 14.25–28 is not strictly accurate, and that the kingdom’s treasures, rather than being looted, were in fact offered by Rehoboam to keep Shishak from invading Judaean territory.

The overall history of Abijah in Chronicles leaves us with the distinct impression that while the reign of Rehoboam was just an unsuccessful digression, it was Abijah who was the true successor of Solomon.

we (past): 5 ‘The Lord . . . gave the kingship . . . for ever to David’ you (past): 6–7 Jeroboam . . . rose up and rebelled you (present): 8–9 you have ‘no gods’ and ‘false priests’ we (present): 10–11 ‘we keep the charge of the Lord’ we (future): 12a ‘God is with us’ you (future): 12b ‘do not fight . . . for you cannot succeed’.

The title of ‘a man of rest’, in whose reign peace and quiet will prevail (I Chron. 22.9), is given in Chronicles to Solomon. In the actual description of Solomon’s reign, however, Chronicles does not make a single reference to the realization of this potential; all the passages which feature this idea, like I Kings 4.21–22 [MT 5.4–5]; 5.4 [MT 5.19]; 8.56, are for one reason or another not found in the Chronicles text. By contrast, ‘peace’ is a persistent theme during the greater part of Asa’s reign, repeated for Jehoshaphat in 17.10; 20.29–30.

Through this fine structure the Chronicler gives fullest expression to a major tenet of his philosophy of history, also found elsewhere (II Chron. 12.5; 24.20; I Chron. 28.9, etc.): man’s fate is determined by his own conduct.

Here is another example of how the Chronicler, when he feels that necessity dictates it, can turn a source-text upside-down. Given the strongly negative theological significance of ‘war’ in Chronistic terms, the Chronicler could hardly accept the existence of conflicts during the reign of Asa the just king. Accordingly, his version reads: ‘there was no war’!

Post-biblical sages, in an attempt to explain irregularities in the presentation of biblical prophets, coined the axiom ‘every prophet whose patronym is recorded – both he and his father were prophets’ (Leviticus Rabbah 6.7).

The Chronistic Asa is an outstanding ruler, a builder, organizer, warrior, and religious leader, conspicuous for his absolute trust in the Lord and his prophets, and his comprehensive steps in reforming the faith of his people. On the other hand, all this represents only one facet of his character. In his old age, after thirty-five years of positive rule, Asa displays clear signs of a weakened faith. Although he is not accused of practising idolatry or forsaking his God, his blameless trust in divine help is shaken. He turns to foreign kings, refuses the counsel of a prophet, acts cruelly toward his people, and consults physicians rather than seeking God. He cannot meet the measure of the Chronicler’s severe criteria for a ‘righteous king’.

‘Riches’ and ‘strength’ – although of great positive significance in the Chronicler’s appraisal of Judean kings – are also a hidden test and may lead to disaster. This is shown in Chronicles by the examples of Rehoboam: ‘When the rule of Rehoboam was established and he was strong he forsook the law of the Lord’ (12.1), and even more of Uzziah: ‘But when he was strong he grew proud . . . For he was false to the Lord’ (26.16). Even Hezekiah did not withstand temptation (32.25). Both Uzziah and Hezekiah, when they waxed strong, fell into the pitfall of pride. Although the same phrase is used for Jehoshaphat, he alone escaped the moral danger of conceit. ‘His heart was proud (wayyigbah libbō, RSV ‘courageous’)’, not in his own achievement but ‘in the ways of the Lord’; what might have been a curse became a blessing.

As in texts of Deuteronomistic provenance, the narrative assumes the existence of a ‘book of the law of the Lord’ (variously defined in Deut. 28.61, Josh. 1.8; II Kings 14.6; Neh. 8.8, etc.). It is also presumed that the people are expected to know (and therefore learn) the laws in order that they may keep them (cf. Deut. 5.1, ‘and you shall learn them and be careful to do them’). However, this is the only instance in which the teaching of the law is described not in the future but as a specific historical event.

In Chronicles, the context is completely changed to relate to the southern kingdom of Judah. It is not the purpose of this chapter to account for Ahab’s end; his whole career, in fact, including the prophetic prediction of his death (I Kings 20.42, etc.), is absent from Chronicles. The war with Aram here is not one in a series but a unique event, and the focus of the chapter is on the figure and conduct of Jehoshaphat, which in Kings are unquestionably secondary – in spite of his important role in introducing the ‘prophetic theme’ (I Kings 22.5., 7).

The Chronicler’s motive here is clarified by his historiographical and theological policy: to incorporate all of the material found in his Deuteronomistic source on the relations between Judah and Israel.

The idea presented here by Micaiah, that a bona fide prophet of the Lord may declare a false inspired message, is daring in the extreme. On the one hand, we find here a very strong emphasis on the understanding of the prophet as an unresisting channel for God’s own purposes, even if this means allowing inspiration by a ‘lying spirit’. Neither Micaiah nor the four hundred prophets may express their own preferences or views, but only transmit what they are told. On the other hand, by this same obedience a prophet may be an instrument of false action, and the credibility of the prophetic vocation on the human plane greatly shaken.

It is noteworthy that the attributes of divine justice as models for judges’ conduct are defined in negative terms: ‘For there is no perversion of justice with the Lord our God, or partiality, or taking bribes’. We have noted before (cf. to I Chron. 29.11) how the Chronicler struggles with the limitations of language in his effort to express the abstract nature of divine attributes. Here, in describing the attribute of God’s justice – a cornerstone of his religious outlook – the Chronicler chooses to formulate his expression in a negative way, by the absence of certain qualities rather than the existence of any. He also avoids active verbs which might imply any ‘doing’ on God’s part; only nouns are used.

He addresses himself to the instruction of the judges themselves, focussing on three terms which are known from other Chronistic contexts: guilt, wrath and warning (NEB; RSV’s ‘instruct’ misses the point). The combination of these three presents one of the major tenets of the Chronicler’s concepts of law and justice: the clear distinction between wilful and inadvertent transgression

The whole attitude of Jehoshaphat’s prayer summarizes one of the interesting paradoxes of the Chronicler’s thought. As I have amply shown, the Chronicler’s historiography attributes military power and activity to righteous kings. Jehoshaphat himself was earlier described as equipping and manning the fortified cities (17.2, 12, 19) and recruiting an army of over a million warriors (17.14–19). At the same time, the pious king is expected not only to possess military strength but to forego its use and to rely only on God for protection. This paradox may illustrate the comprehensiveness of the religious element in the Chronicler’s historical philosophy.

It will become clear presently that the text is an adaptation of Moses’ exhortation at the crossing of the Sea, in Exod. 14.13–14.

Jehoshaphat’s reaction fits perfectly not only the circumstances but his own character as portrayed in our context; both he and ‘all Judah’ fall down, bowing themselves before the Lord, an act which the Levites accompany with a united voice of thanksgiving. The whole structure is a perfect chiastic conclusion to the scene begun in v. 14: there Jahaziel the Levite/ singer stands up in the crowd to address ‘all Judah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem’, and the king; here, the response follows the opposite order with precisely the same participants, defined in precisely the same terms: first the king, then ‘all Judah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem’, and finally, the Levites with their song.

Most important of all is this addition of faith in the prophets to trust in God; while strictly related to the context, it nevertheless reflects a major tenet of the Chronicler’s attitude towards prophecy: the prophets themselves are objects of faith.

The comparison with Asa is problematical. In the Deuteronomistic historiography Asa is regarded as a blameless king, with the one reservation that the high places were not removed in his day (I Kings 15.11–14). The comparison of Jehoshaphat with his father (I Kings 22.43) is therefore very positive, over-shadowed only by this one failure. By contrast, in Chronicles, Asa is not as perfect, and there is a clear tension between the great piety which marked most of his reign and the increasing guilt of his old age. Jehoshaphat, on the other hand, is in Chronicles a righteous king throughout; the single transgression of joining northern Israel (ch. 18) is pardoned because of his overall merit (19.3).

This is the basis for the Chronicler’s statement: Jehoram’s special guilt was in his wilful and malicious incitement of the people to the wrong way. More than any other king – even Manasseh (cf. II Chron. 33.9) – Jehoram is presented as intentionally leading the people astray.

Source: He also walked in the ways of the house of Ahab, Chron.: for his mother was his counsellor in doing wickedly. Source: He did what was evil in the eyes of the Lord, as the house of Ahab had done; Chron.: for after the death of his father they were his counsellors, to his undoing. Chron: He even followed their counsel Source: and went with Jehoram, etc.

go astray’; the same kind of evil influence is associated with the new king, but Chronicles sees him as a victim rather than as an instigator. Even the war at Ramoth-gilead – a neutral decision in II Kings 8.28 – is here conceived as a result of heeding wrong advice. While not completely denying Ahaziah’s personal responsibility, the Chronicler’s rendering certainly mitigates it.

Since the pioneer analysis of de Wette, all commentators have noted that the Chronicler’s understanding of Jehoiada’s coup is different from that of II Kings 11. A limited conspiracy between the high priest and the king’s guard is here presented as a popular uprising, with the people themselves as essential partners. It is they, not Jehoiada, who restore the scion of David to his kingdom, not in secrecy but with open publicity, and the various units of the king’s guard are replaced here by the Levites. The Chronicler emphasizes more than Kings that Athaliah was a foreign ruler, who had never received the people’s blessing; the very knowledge that a Davidide was still alive was enough to prompt the people to join loyally the effort to remove her.

For the Chronicler, both Israel’s worship and idolatry are exclusive; ‘evil’ rulers introduced ‘other gods’ not as optional additions to, but as actual replacements of, God’s worship. Thus, a commitment to be ‘the Lord’s people’ could not be fulfilled only by the eradication of Baal from Jerusalem.

While II Kings 12.2 [MT 3] describes Joash as doing ‘what was right in the eyes of the Lord all his days because Jehoiada the priest instructed him’, the Chronicler makes this final clause a reservation: Joash indeed did what was right, but only ‘all the days of Jehoiada the priest’. With this minor orthographic change (ymyw/ymy), the foundation is laid for the different periodization of the reign of Joash.

This sequence, for the Chronicler, utterly lacks historical and theological probability. There must be a missing link, a change in the king’s conduct which would account for his later evil fortunes.

Joash is telling Amaziah that ‘your heart has been hardened’, immediately recalling the precedent of Pharaoh (Exod. 7.14; 8.15 [MT 11]; 8.32 [MT 28]; 9.34, etc., all using different conjugations of kbd).

Joash is unique in that he succeeded where the great Assyrian king Sennacherib with all his forces failed – in breaching the wall of Jersualem.