The United Monarchy: An Overview

To understand the Divided Kingdom, one must grasp that which preceded it: the United Monarchy. When Yahweh led the Israelites out of Egypt in the Exodus and settled them in the land of Canaan during the Conquest, He intended to rule over them in a theocracy: Yahweh was their king, and when they needed help, He would raise judges to deliver them. These judges served judicial and combat purposes: they upheld God’s Law in the land, arbitrated disputes (both religious and civil), and led God’s people-in-arms against their oppressors. The people didn’t like this set-up; they wanted to be like the pagan nations around them who were ruled by kings. The Book of Judges details twelve judges who served Israel, and in 1 Samuel we meet the thirteenth (and last) judge who is named, unsurprisingly, Samuel. It is to Samuel that the people petition Yahweh for a king, and Yahweh relents – He gives them what they want. 

~  King Saul  ~

the devolution of King Saul

The first King of Israel was ‘Saul.’ It’s likely this wasn’t his real name; it was probably a nickname meaning ‘you got what you asked for.’ The Israelites wanted a king, and they got what they asked for – and it didn’t turn out the way they hoped. Though the early years of Saul’s reign were good, he went off the rails towards the middle and end, and when he died by his own hand after getting trounced by the Philistines at Mount Gilboa, Israel was in a worse state than before. Saul reigned from around 1050 to 1010 BC, and he faced two main enemies: an assemblage of pagan nations in the Transjordan and the Philistines of old. The Philistines were a warrior race known in many ancient accounts as the ‘sea peoples’ because they came from the sea; like the Greeks, they liked to play games on the battlefield (such as trial-by-champion) and they adopted the Greek concept of ‘baleful wrath,’ a method whereby they got their adrenaline pumping by banging spears, swords, and shields together while screaming bloody hell. Saul was a tall man, standing around 6’6” in a time period when the average Israelite height was between 5’4” and 5’6”. He had the potential to be a good king but lost his way.

Saul’s story has four parts: his rise to power, his greatness, his unmasking, and his lunacy. Saul was a man of false humility; he used a façade of meekness to cover up his insecurities, and though his humility was convincing early in his reign, it was shown to be a put-up job later on. Saul’s story begins in 1 Samuel 9 when Samuel confronts him: Saul had lost a donkey, and his servant couldn’t find it; in lazy desperation Saul and his servant decided to see the seer (Samuel) to determine the donkey’s whereabouts. Samuel met them at the gates of the city and gave Saul a cryptic message: ‘You are the one who is desired in all Israel.’ Saul’s response was humble; he and Samuel hung out for a while, and Samuel gave him food as an act of hospitality. The next day Samuel poured oil on Saul’s head, kissed him out of reverent respect, and prophesied lots of trivial stuff (except for Saul’s joining a band of prophets). Samuel prophesied the small things to show that Yahweh was in control of even the smallest things and can turn them into great things. Later on, as Saul was walking through a Philistine garrison, the Spirit of God came upon him and he began prophesying; in a show of God’s power, the Philistines did nothing to him, and he walked out of there unharmed. In 1 Samuel 10 Samuel proclaimed Saul as king, but Saul was hiding among the baggage; this has been interpreted as an instance of his timidity or as a show of humility – ‘That chap sure is a humble fellow!’

Saul, as king, made leaps and bounds. When ‘Snake the Ammonite’ besieged an Israelite town, the residents promised they’d surrender shortly if Snake let their messengers go to try and find help. Snake, thinking that no help would come, sensed an easy capitulation with no losses of his men and lots of loot, and so he agreed. The Israelite messengers spread through Israel, calling for help. King Saul was plowing his field when a messenger reached him; he seemed humble, taking care of his field rather than making someone else do it. The messenger informed Saul of what was happening. Saul, mortified, cut up his own oxen and sent the pieces to all the tribes of Israel, declaring that whoever didn’t join him and Samuel against Snake the Ammonite would end up just like the oxen, sliced to pieces! As king he had the power to do it, too. This was Saul’s moment to shine, to show the Israelites that he could be a good king, and thousands of Israelites took up arms against Snake and slaughtered the Ammonites. It was clear, then, that Saul had the potential to be a good king – and he kept up a string of victories. But as he accumulated laurels, his character began to deteriorate; perhaps the power, prestige, and recognition got to his head, corrupting him. He ended up taking credit for other peoples’ victories (even those of his son Jonathan), and his timidity got the best of him: he became a coward before his enemies, and he was frightened by his own subjects.

Saul kills himself after defeat at Mount Gilboa

It’s no surprise, then, that in 1 Samuel 15 Yahweh said He regretted making Saul king. Saul served himself for his own glory and gain; he didn’t serve God. He compounded this sin by shoving the blame for his mistakes on others, and he turned from God and His ways to seek his own fortune. Samuel brought Saul out on the carpet, informing him that God wasn’t happy and He was withdrawing His support. Saul responded first in anger, and then he played the penitent, remorseful sinner; but Samuel saw through his lies (as seers tend to do) and called him out as a fake. Saul grabbed Samuel by the jacket, tearing his cloak; Samuel told him, ‘Just as my cloak has torn, so your kingdom shall be given to another.’ That ‘other’ was a shepherd boy named David. At this point Saul plummeted into episode of lunacy; the Holy Spirit abandoned him, and an ‘evil spirit’ entered him. He neglected the reign of his kingdom in the pursuit of the supposed usurper, and his reign ended with a bloody death on the battlefield against the Philistines at Mount Gilboa. 

~  King David  ~

King David is THE character of the Old Testament. Not only is he viewed as the greatest king who ever ruled Israel, but he also serves as an antitype of Christ: he prepares the people for the Messiah through a ‘now but not yet’ image of the coming Christ. The first half of David’s life prepares the reader for the coming Messiah who will rescue Yahweh’s people and reign over all the nations, even the world; the second half of his life shows that David is not the Messiah that everyone’s hoping for. David’s life was a rise of glory shattered by great sin that warranted punishment through the end of his life; David’s rise of glory points us to Christ, and his failure shows us that he was not the Messiah and that the Messiah was still to come. Yahweh made a covenant with David – called the Davidic Covenant – in which God promised that David and his family-line would be God’s earthly representatives. It was prophesied that a king of David’s line would rule for all eternity; though the last royal descendant of David was King Zedekiah in 586 BC, Jesus, a descendant of David, is the eternal king.

David was born to a wealthy businessman named Jesse who lived in the small town of Bethlehem. David’s job was to watch the family’s sheep. He was tasked with shepherding duty when the rest of his family partied, and he had to watch the sheep when Israel’s great judge and prophet Samuel came to visit. Even before Samuel’s visit David possessed divinely-inspired powers: he was able to kill lions and bears with his bare hands (both lions and bears lived in Israel at the time, and would continue to do so into the Middle Ages), and he was exquisitely skilled in music, able to play instruments, sing, and compose masterpieces on the spot. Though these peculiarities showed that God was with him in a unique way, no one – especially his family – noticed. Thus it came as quite the shock when Samuel came by their lodgings and announced that Yahweh had chosen David – the weakling and runt of the House of Jesse – to be Israel’s next king. 

David and Goliath

Saul had been rejected by God and overcome by an evil spirit, and Samuel was tasked with choosing a new king to replace Saul; once anointed, it wasn’t long before David became Saul’s court musician. He filled this niche by an act of God: whenever David played music, the evil spirit left Saul. No other musician could accomplish this, for it wasn’t the music but God working in the music that effected the change, so the court was no doubt glad to have David commissioned. David rose in rank within Saul’s court; he went from the royal musician to Saul’s personal armor-bearer, and be became nationally renowned for his valiant skills in combat – previously attested by his skill in slaying lions and bears – after defeating a Philistine champion in a trial-by-combat. Goliath – which is a title meaning ‘Giant’ rather than a personal name – towered at nine feet above the (likely) 5’5” David. David distracted the giant with a stick, killed him with a sling, and humiliated the Philistines. Saul knew who David was, but after the episode he asked for David’s identity: he may have forgotten, or perhaps lunacy had settled upon him, and who dares to correct a lunatic king? David’s prowess against Goliath vaulted him into the upper echelons of the Israelite army. He befriended Saul’s son Jonathan, and the two of them formed an intimate ‘Band of Brothers’ camaraderie (this was, it should be noted, genuine friendship rather than defiled friendship, as some like to argue to advance their secular ideologies). David and Jonathan forged not one but two covenants of friendship, and David was brought to maniacal tears after Jonathan’s death alongside his father at Mount Gilboa. 

Long before Jonathan’s death, however, Saul became jealous of David’s growing notoriety and accurately perceived him as a threat to his throne. Saul knew Yahweh had rejected him, but he hoped to stem the tide or even to counteract God’s plans. He tried assassinating David multiple times, and eventually David was forced to flee Saul’s army. He and his friends spent several years dodging Saul’s hunting parties, even (for a time) seeking sanctuary with Israel’s hated neighbors, the Philistines. While cozying up with the Philistines, David was rather duplicitous: he used Philistia as a base for operations against Israel’s enemies, especially those who opposed her in the south, but he told the Philistines that he was fighting Israel. Multiple times David had the opportunity to assassinate Saul, but he refused, because Saul had been anointed by God; the one time he did touch Saul, he exposed himself and asked forgiveness. David was convinced that Yahweh would eventually deal with Saul; David didn’t need to badger his way to the throne. It was in exile that David wrote many of his psalms of lament.

Jerusalem around 1000 BC

Following Saul’s death, David was crowned King of Judah for seven years. The northernmost tribes of Israel didn’t accept him, but Judah did: Judah was on friendly terms with Benjamin, and David had been active in the area of Judah during his exile, fighting against Judah’s immediate enemies. He’d garnished a great name for himself, unspoiled by Saul’s propaganda machine, and Judah was glad to have him as king. In time David became King of all Israel, and his reign was off to a great start. From the get-go, at the start of his reign over Judah, he worked pragmatically to win the support of many of Saul’s loyalists by lamenting the deaths of Saul and Jonathan and executing Saul’s supposed murderer (a Philistine who lied about killing Saul in the hope of winning favor with the new king). He won further support among northern Israel by giving the reign of the northern tribes to one of Saul’s surviving sons; when that son died, the people of Israel were cool with making David their king. David cared for (without adopting) Jonathan’s orphaned son, and he eventually won over the heart of all Israel. As king he chose a new capital, Jerusalem, which he seized from the Jebusites (it’d been outside Israel’s proper control for a while); Jerusalem was thus a ‘neutral city’ that was easily defensible and lie between Israel and Judah. He started to rebuild the Tabernacle (which had been destroyed by the Philistines), but Yahweh told him to stop because he had blood on his hands: the Temple of God was to be built by a man of peace, not war, in sharp distinction from pagan temples. David enacted a ‘Final Solution’ against Israel’s harshest neighbors, the Philistines: he critically wounded them in countless campaigns, and never again were they able to reach their former glories. No one knows how David did it, but he made the Philistines – some of the toughest warriors in the known world who fought in bloodlust to the death and swore never to surrender – refuse to even pick up their swords!

the murder of Uriah the Hittite

David’s reign started with a meteoric rise, marked by glory upon glory, but when it began to unravel, it did so quickly. This began with a certain episode, a centerpiece in biblical literature, that is the story of David and Bathsheba, in which David ‘takes’ another man’s wife for his own. This wasn’t the first time he did it: he’d already taken Saul’s daughter Michal, who was already married; and then he took the wife of a desert trader named Nabal. This time he took the dear wife of his friend Uriah, one of his ‘Mighty Men’ (a group of his closest warrior cohorts). He slept with Bathsheba and she conceived; fearing that his adultery would be uncovered, he tried to get Uriah to sleep with his wife so that he could claim the son as his own and no one would be the wiser. Uriah, however, was an honorable man, and he refused to take his wife to bed while the soldiers under his command were suffering deprivations in the field. David, feeling cornered, then ordered that Uriah be slain before the walls of an enemy city; if Uriah was dead, he wouldn’t be able to point out that Bathsheba’s son wasn’t his. Thus David was guilty not only of adultery but also murder – and the murder of a dear friend, to cover up his sin. His deceit and scheming only compounded his sin, and the prophet Nathan – who was active throughout David’s reign – confronted him about it and, by use of a parable, tricked David into pronouncing judgment on himself. Though David repented of his sin (his Prayer of Repentance is found in Psalm 51), he still had to bear the consequences of his sin: the child he conceived with Bathsheba died, and three more of David’s sons died; his kingdom was ravaged by civil war; and in his old age, David was unable to get an erection despite his lust. He couldn’t ‘get it up’ even with one of the most beautiful girls of Israel naked by his bedside. Sexual potency was equated with power (as it still is in the Near East today), and David’s impotence carried a signal that he just wasn’t up to the mettle anymore. His frailty prompted a short-lived rebellion by his fourth son, but his later son Solomon – whom he’d later had with Bathsheba – had already been chosen by Yahweh to be the next king of Israel.

~  King Solomon  ~

Solomon was not like his father; he didn't pursue God as David had, and he was more concerned about himself and his prestige than about God and His ways. He was a man enslaved to the pleasures of the world, a man who was both greedy and a prick. Solomon couldn’t compare to David, but then again, no kings would compare to David; the people were always longing for a king like Solomon’s father. Solomon was the last of the three kings of Israel’s Untied Monarchy; the united monarchy would be divided after Solomon’s death, a penalty for how he had flagrantly turned his back on God (though he likely repented in his old age).

Solomon’s story can be told in three parts: his Rise to Power, ‘The List’ of his achievements, and his Fall from Grace. In his rise to power, Solomon was surrounded by adversaries but managed to consolidate his rule by killing three of them and banishing the fourth; in ‘The List’ we have the ‘Acts of Solomon,’ a chronicle of all that Solomon accomplished and praise for his wisdom; and in his Fall from Grace, we find Solomon turning away from God and worshipping pagan deities. Yahweh punished Solomon by raising three adversaries against him and splitting his kingdom after his death. The story of Solomon, as presented in both Kings and Chronicles, gives the reader the bare-boned facts about his reign without offering praise or condemnation of his rule. This leaves the reader to forge his own opinion about Solomon’s ability as king. Though it’s often assumed that Solomon was a good king because he was wise, we mustn’t equate wisdom – which has less to do with ‘right living’ and more about shrewdness in living well – with righteousness. Solomon was definitely wise, rivaling even the extolled Arabian wisdom of his day, but he didn’t apply his wisdom to his own life.

In 1 Kings 1 we’re returned to the last days of the frail and impotent King David. His fourth son Adonijah, not born of Bathsheba, seized the throne. He incorrectly assumed that he would be king, as he was next in the line of succession; given David’s impotence, he assumed the right to rule. He gained a large swathe of followers and claimed to be in control. Many people, even those who had been staunch supporters of David, aligned themselves with Adonijah, and a threat of civil war – like that seen with David’s rebellious son Absalom earlier in David’s reign – loomed over Israel. David’s Mighty Men refused to endorse Adonijah, but the Israelite army under Joab was in Adonijah’s pocket. David was clueless as to what was going on until the prophet Nathan, prompted by Bathsheba, rushed to David’s bedside and told him what was happening. Bathsheba hated the idea of Adonijah becoming king; she wanted Solomon, her flesh and blood, to be on the throne. She had a domineering power over David, and David succumbed; now Bathsheba, formerly the villain, became the hero. Solomon was blessed by David, anointed by the prophets, and made David’s coregent. Adonijah back down, and the threat of war diffused. When David died, he gave a ‘final charge’ to Solomon, imploring him to ‘be a man’ and ‘obey Yahweh.’ Wedged inside David’s charge was the command to deal with some wicked people; Solomon killed three of them (including Adonijah) and banished the fourth (who was a high priest; Solomon knew better than to slay a high priest, one of God’s anointed). 

Solomon's Temple

1 Kings 3-9 gives us a snapshot of Solomon’s accomplishments after consolidating his throne, but the scriptures lack any moral commentary on whether his actions were good or bad. The list shows that good can take place in spite of evil, as good things come despite Solomon’s selfishness. In 1 Kings 3.1 Solomon forged a marriage alliance with Egypt, taking Pharaoh’s daughter as his wife; this shows Solomon’s power and prestige (despite Egypt’s current 21st dynasty being weak), and in the eyes of the world it’s a good and wise deed – but in God’s eyes, it was a bad decision (Deuteronomy 17.14-17). In 1 Kings 3.5-9 we find Solomon’s prayer for wisdom, and later in the chapter we see that he brings justice even to the outcasts; this is all well and good, but though he can apply wisdom in his law courts and in the management of Israel, he failed to apply it to his own life. His greed is highlighted in 1 Kings 4: he takes, takes, and then takes some more, just as Yahweh warned would happen to the Israelites if they had a king. Solomon’s expansive building projects – which highlighted his power and prestige – drained Israel’s coffers, and he levied huge taxes that became a burden to the lower class; this burden would become pivotal in spreading discontent in the days of coming civil war. Though Solomon followed his father’s footsteps in conscripting foreigners within Israel’s borders to serve as forced labor, he went even further in forcing Israelites to work for him for free two months out of the year. Though Solomon – a ‘man of peace’ unlike his father – built the Temple (1 Kings 5-6), he paid more attention to the building of his palace (and even built himself numerous palaces). It took four years for Solomon to build the Temple, but it took thirteen to build his main palace. This highlights how Solomon was selfish and self-absorbed, caring more for himself than for God. The building of his palace in the first half of 1 Kings 7 is sandwiched between the building of the Temple and the Ark going into the Temple along with the Temple’s dedication; this forms a chiasm, in which the reader is drawn to that which is in the middle. Without outright saying it, the text focuses on Solomon’s palace because that was where he put his focus. In 1 Kings 9 we see that Solomon’s wisdom is a blessing to foreign nations, but, again, he failed to apply it to his own life. Solomon’s accomplishments must be read in the context of Ecclesiastes 2; when asking, ‘Why did Solomon do so much?’ the answer is that he was wholly selfish and self-absorbed.

Solomon's Palace

It’s not surprising, then, that Solomon ‘fell’ from God. He was woman-crazy and had a bad case of ‘jungle fever’: he loved exotic women, and though it’s been argued that his many marriages to foreign women were the result of alliances rather than desire (as was common in the ancient Near East), 1 Kings tells us straightaway that he loved foreign women and was more than happy to take them as his own despite God’s decrees. Though these marriages no doubt served political ends, they were more than that, too. Solomon even went as far as worshipping his wives’ gods in order to appease them, building temples to pagan gods so that his wives could worship as they pleased. He built shrines to Molech and Dagon, foreign gods who desired child sacrifice. As king he would undergo the greatest acts of worship to these pagan gods; the gods mentioned in 1 Kings are all gods who claimed child sacrifice as the pinnacle of worship. Though the text doesn’t say it outright, it’s implied that Solomon took Israelite children, aged zero to four years of age, burned them alive, placed their remains in jars, and buried them in gardens dedicated to the pagan gods. Yahweh, of course, was immensely angry with Solomon (the narrative doesn’t tell us that God was merely displeased but that He burned in anger). Thus God raised three enemies against Solomon: Hadad the Edomite, a rebel bent on reclaiming Edom from Israelite lordship; Rezon, a warlord in Damascus; and Jeroboam the son of Nabat.

Jeroboam, unlike Hadad and Rezon, was an internal enemy. Jeroboam was an Ephraimite from the insignificant village of Zeradah. His mother’s name, Zeruah, meant ‘leper,’ and she was a widow; the scriptures may record these facts to highlight Jeroboam’s humble origins. The Ephraimites were a proud people to begin with, and Jeroboam had reason to be even prouder: he was a great and feared warrior (Hebrew gibbor), so it’s not surprising that he took offense when Solomon conscripted him to become a measly slave-master overseeing forced conscription on Jerusalem’s fortifications. Jeroboam, skilled in the art of war and clinging to fierce honor, was infuriated at such treatment and stewed against the king. Sensing unrest among his fellow workmen, he ‘lifted up his hand against the king’: he didn’t just foment rebellion, he actually did it. This brief phrase in scripture is the only mention of his insurrection, which took place around the twenty-fifth year of Solomon’s reign, hinting that it was short-lived. A prophet named Ahijah the Shilonite (from the town of Shiloh) confronted Jeroboam in a field outside the city. The prophet wore a new outer garment which he tore into twelve pieces; he instructed Jeroboam to take hold of ten of the pieces, symbolizing the ten tribes that God would tear from the hands of Solomon. Israel has always been counted as twelve tribes, but there’s a bit of mathematical hoops involved: since the tribe of Joseph had been divided into two – Ephraim and Manasseh – the total should’ve risen to thirteen. However, the tribe of Levi – who were tasked with bearing the religious honors of the Israelites – was scattered throughout the other tribes where they performed their priestly functions. Thus there were twelve tribes with land allotted to them. Jeroboam would reign over the so-called ‘ten lost tribes of Israel;’ Judah and Benjamin would continue to be ruled by a king of the House of David. 

Solomon squashed the rebellion before it could blow up, and Jeroboam fled to Pharaoh Shoshenq I. The fact that Shoshenq granted asylum to the fugitive shows he was no friend of Solomon; Solomon’s Egyptian wife came from the last dynasty, whereas Shoshenq initiated a new dynasty, the 22nd. The 21st Egyptian dynasty had been weak; Shoshenq aimed to bring Egypt back to its former glory, and he harbored Jeroboam because he thought he might be useful. This would prove to be a good move for the forward-thinking pharaoh. Solomon died shortly after Jeroboam’s flight to Egypt. Solomon had only one son, Rehoboam, who would succeed him on the throne and inherit an Israel ripping at the seams. Rehoboam would botch any hope of diplomacy, and the kingdom would split from underneath him. It’s telling that Solomon only had one son but a litany of daughters; the king who abused women mostly had daughters, which (in that culture) portrayed a sense of shame on his family name.

Interestingly, nowhere in scripture is Solomon pictured as being in heaven. This raises the question: ‘Did Solomon die an evil man consigned to eternal destruction?’ Some argue this to be the case, but others believe he repented before his death. Though neither Kings nor Chronicles mentions Solomon’s repentance, it’s attested in Ecclesiastes. Ecclesiastes was written by Solomon, and it looks like the king’s ‘deathbed confessional,’ and it reads like a confession of repentance. Jewish tradition has it that Solomon turned back to God at the end of his life and wrote Ecclesiastes as a memoir in which he highlighted his futile pursuits and the key lesson he learned: fear Yahweh and keep His commandments.