KINGS - Week 3
So far in the big story of the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament), we’ve moved through three phases.
First came the time of the judges - a chaotic period where leaders rose up briefly to deal with crises but offered no lasting stability.
We’re reminded in 1 Samuel 3, in this transition period;
“In those days the word of the Lord was rare; there were not many visions.”
Then came the time of the kings - beginning with Saul, peaking with David and slowly unravelling through Solomon and the divided kingdom.
Now, as we reach the middle of 1 Kings, we’re entering the time of the prophets.
From this point forward, the prophets become the key voices in the biblical narrative. They aren’t priests, and they don’t hold political office. Their job is to call the people, especially the kings, back to covenant faithfulness. The prophets interpret their present events in light of God’s promises and expectations. As a ‘Bible Project’ video we watched at Alpha the other day put it:
“they (the prophets) are able to see what’s happening in history from God’s point of view.”
The first major figure in this transition is Elijah, who appears suddenly and without background in 1 Kings 17. Unlike earlier prophetic figures like Samuel or Nathan, Elijah is not tied to the sanctuary or the court. He doesn’t advise kings or preside over royal ceremonies. He arrives instead as an interruption - a voice from outside the established order, bringing judgment rather than guidance.
His opening act is to shut the heavens:
“As the LORD, the God of Israel, lives, before whom I stand, there shall be neither dew nor rain these years, except by my word” (1 Kings 17:1).
It’s a confrontation with Ahab, but also with Baal, the Canaanite god of storms and fertility, whose worship Ahab has now officially introduced into Israel.
This shift is important to notice.
Elijah stands outside the political and religious systems that define power in his world.
Where kings negotiate alliances, build temples, and raise armies, Elijah depends on ravens for food and hides by a drying brook. Where religious practice has become state-sanctioned and compromised, Elijah speaks for a God who refuses compromise. In that sense, Elijah represents an alternative authority, not marginal in importance, but deliberately positioned outside the institutions that were in decay.
His role is theological as much as it is political. Elijah’s drought challenges ‘Baalism’ at its core and his miracles providing food for a widow and raising her son echo God’s concern for the vulnerable, especially in contrast to a king who cannot feed his people or protect them from judgment.
These acts are not just personal; they symbolise a God who remains active and faithful even as the human power structures fall into disorder.
By the time Elijah reaches Mount Carmel in chapter 18, the confrontation is not just between prophet and king, but between competing visions of God. The fire from heaven is more than a sign of power; it’s a decisive statement that God alone is God, not one among many.
Still, even after this dramatic moment, Elijah finds no revival.
In chapter 19, he flees into the wilderness, convinced that he is alone. God meets him not in wind or fire, but in a whisper - a rebuke, perhaps, but also a reassurance.
The prophet’s role is not to win popularity or fix the system, but to speak faithfully, even when it seems futile.
What these chapters reveal is that prophets arise when kings fail. Elijah doesn’t offer reform proposals. He isn’t building a movement. He simply speaks the word of the Lord into a political and religious world that no longer wants to hear it. Yet, his presence reshapes the story.
This will become a pattern throughout the rest of the Hebrew Bible. Some prophets will be courtiers like Isaiah; others, like Amos, will be shepherds or fig farmers. Some will write, others will perform symbolic acts or deliver oracles. But the function remains the same - to interpret the moment in light of God’s covenant, and to hold kings, priests, and people accountable to it.
In Elijah, that function begins in earnest. The era of prophecy is underway - not as a new institution, but as a divine response to institutional failure.