KINGS - Week 7
If you’ve made it this far in our journey through the books of Kings; Congratulations!
These two biblical books aren’t always easy reading. They are filled with difficult names, dynasties, rebellions, assassinations, and the slow moral and spiritual unravelling of a people meant to be a light to the nations. And now, here at the end, we meet Josiah – presented as the best king since David, or perhaps better than David(?!) -and still, it all ends in exile.
Let’s explore why this story finishes the way it does, and what it tells us about God, scripture, and ourselves.
Josiah’s story is told in 2 Kings 22–23. He comes to the throne as a child, inherits a broken kingdom and chooses a path of faithfulness. The text declares:
“Before him there was no king like him, who turned to the LORD with all his heart... nor did any like him arise after him” (2 Kings 23:25).
This is no small praise.
Josiah doesn’t just reform religious practice, he overhauls it. After the discovery of “the Book of the Law” in the temple (most scholars think this was some form of Deuteronomy), Josiah tears his clothes in repentance and launches a national campaign of reform.
He destroys altars to Baal and Asherah, abolishes child sacrifice, deposes idolatrous priests, and centralises worship in Jerusalem.
If that sounds like textbook Deuteronomy, that’s the point.
Most scholars today understand the books of Joshua through 2 Kings as part of a unified literary and theological work sometimes called the "Deuteronomistic History". But this isn’t about dry literary theory, it’s about how we understand the message of the Bible.
The idea is this: sometime, during or just after the Babylonian exile (6th century BCE), an editor or group of scribes looked back over Israel’s history and retold it through a Deuteronomic lens. That means measuring kings and nations not by their political power or military strength, but by their covenant faithfulness - especially to the commands of Deuteronomy. Centralised worship, care for the poor, justice, and the rejection of idols became the measure of success.
Within this framework, Josiah isn’t just a good king - he’s the model of what a king should be. His reforms align perfectly with Deuteronomy’s demands.
And yet… the reforms don’t save Judah. That’s the theological tension at the heart of the story.
Despite Josiah’s efforts, God declares:
“I will remove Judah also out of my sight… because of all that Manasseh did” (2 Kings 23:27).
Manasseh, Josiah’s grandfather, is described as one of the most wicked rulers in Judah’s history. His long reign (2 Kings 21) is filled with idolatry, bloodshed, and pagan worship. The text paints him as the final nail in the coffin.
Josiah’s faithfulness matters, but in this telling of history, it can’t undo generations of covenant betrayal. His reforms are like cleaning a collapsing house. Noble, even heroic, but ultimately unable to stop the fall.
This stark message fits with what scholars see as the purpose of the Deuteronomistic History: it’s a national post-mortem. As we looked at last week, it’s trying to answer the question: Why did we lose the land God promised us?
The answer it gives is theological, not military - because we were unfaithful.
After Josiah’s untimely death in battle (against Pharaoh Necho of Egypt), his sons prove ineffective, and Judah rapidly declines. The final chapters (2 Kings 24–25) tell the grim story of siege, conquest, and exile under the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar.
But even here, the text gives a whisper of hope.
In the final paragraph, we read that Jehoiachin, a former Judean king, is released from prison in Babylon and given a seat of honour at the king’s table (2 Kings 25:27–30). It’s a small gesture, but acts as a sign that just maybe, God isn’t finished yet.
It’s tempting to read Josiah’s story and ask, “What’s the point of faithfulness if the ending is still exile?” But perhaps that’s the wrong question.
Josiah reminds us that obedience isn’t a transaction, it’s a response.
He didn’t reform Judah because he thought it would guarantee success. He did it because it was right.
The Deuteronomistic History invites us to wrestle with the long consequences of sin, the cost of idolatry, and the reality that justice delayed is not always justice denied. At the same time, it also hints that no failure, individual or national, is beyond the reach of God’s mercy.
As we close the book of Kings, we’re left with this tension: we are called to faithfulness in a broken world, even when the outcome isn’t what we hope for. And in that space, God is still at work - quietly, patiently, preparing for restoration.