Things get off to a bizarre start with the anointing of Jehu, in 2 Kings 9:1-3: “The prophet Elisha summoned a man from the company of the prophets and said to him, ‘Tuck your cloak into your belt, take this flask of olive oil with you and go to Ramoth Gilead. When you get there, look for Jehu son of Jehoshaphat, the son of Nimshi. Go to him, get him away from his companions and take him into an inner room. Then take the flask and pour the oil on his head and declare, “This is what the Lord says: I anoint you king over Israel.” Then open the door and run; don’t delay!’”
That’s my first “what were you thinking” moment. Run away? Like escaping from something? What’s that all about. Prophets often acted in strange ways to get the attention of the people, like Jeremiah binding himself with ropes, but usually they explain it.
But as I read on, it seemed appropriate; Jehu was a guy to run away from. He was a lethal and prolific executioner who cut a bloody swathe through Israelite and left dozens of dead behind him. The story of Jezebel’s death is one of the most gruesome you’ll find anywhere.
Yet God is pleased – that’s the second thing I don’t understand. Look at this, from 2 Kings 10:30-31: “The Lord said to Jehu, ‘Because you have done well in accomplishing what is right in my eyes and have done to the house of Ahab all I had in mind to do, your descendants will sit on the throne of Israel to the fourth generation.’ Yet Jehu was not careful to keep the law of the Lord, the God of Israel, with all his heart. He did not turn away from the sins of Jeroboam, which he had caused Israel to commit.”
I get that Jehu was God’s judgment on Ahab and Jezebel, but why did God look past his sins (Jeroboam set up the golden calfs for worship, which Jehu continued) and give him four generations on the throne? In so many cases God punished men and women for so much less. I don’t like Jehu, and I guess I don’t want God to like him either.
I don’t get it, but there’s some comfort here for me: God doesn’t require perfection in his servants, only obedience. I’ll never be perfect, but I can obey.
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