Observe the madness of Ahab’s policy, and note how often it is the policy which we ourselves are tempted to pursue. We suppose that if we do not consult the Bible we may take license to do what seems good in our own eyes, and we imagine that by ignoring the Bible we have divested it of authority. We flatter ourselves that if we do not listen to an exposition of the divine word we shall be judged according to the light we have, forgetting the solemn law that it is not according to the light we have that we are to be judged, but according to the light we might have if we put ourselves in right relations to the opportunities created for us by divine providence.
We know that if we go to hear a certain preacher he will insist upon “righteousness, temperance and judgment to come;” and, supposing that we already know every thing that he will say, we turn away from him and listen to men who do not profoundly treat vital subjects, or press home upon the conscience the terrible judgments of God.
What is this but closing our eyes to light, and supposing that darkness is safety? What is this ostrich policy but one that ought to be condemned by our sense as well as shrunk from by our piety?
Our duty under all critical circumstances is to go to the truth-teller, and to get at the reality of things at all costs. Where the truth-teller disturbs our peace and disappoints our ambition, we ought surely to learn that it is precisely at that point that we have to become self-rectifying. The truth-teller is only powerful in proportion as he tells the truth. Officially, he is nothing; his power is simply the measure of his righteousness.
But do not men love to be flattered, even in courses of evil? Is it not pleasant to go to forbidden war amid the huzzas of thoughtless and irresponsible multitudes?
Jehoshaphat, however, was a just man, and as such he protested against the sin of the king of Israel, saying: “Let not the king say so.” Jehoshaphat being so bent upon a complete judgment of the case, Micaiah was sent for. The king of Israel wished to overawe the despised prophet by the pomp and circumstance under which he was introduced to the royal presence. “The king of Israel and Jehoshaphat, the king of Judah, sat each on his throne, having put on their robes, in a void place in the entrance of the gate of Samaria,” and, to increase the impressiveness of the occasion, all the prophets prophesied before the kings.
A singular addition was made to the surroundings of the occasion which was intended to impress the imagination and stagger the courage of the despised Micaiah. A man bearing the name of Zedekiah (“righteousness of Jehovah”) made him horns of iron. The use of symbolical acts is quite common in biblical history. We have already seen Abijah engaged in acts of this kind. He “caught the new garment that was on him and rent it in twelve pieces, and said to Jeroboam: ‘Take thee ten pieces.’”
The enthusiasm of Zedekiah inflamed all the other prophets to the highest point of excitement, and they shouted as with one voice:
“Go up to Ramoth-gilead, and prosper; for the Lord shall deliver it into the king’s hand.”
In this instance the prophets, overborne by the enthusiasm of Zedekiah, actually ventured to use the name of Jehovah, which had not been used in the first instance. The excitement had passed the point of worship and had become more nearly resembling the frantic cry that was heard on Mount Carmel: “O Baal, hear us.”
Is it possible that there can be found any solitary man who dare oppose such unanimous testimony and complete enthusiasm?
The messenger who was sent to call Micaiah was evidently a man of considerate feeling and who wished the prophet well. Seeing that the words of the prophets had all declared good unto the king with one mouth, the messenger wished that Micaiah should for once agree with the other prophets, and please the king by leaving undisturbed their emphatic and unanimous counsel.
Thus the voice of persuasion was brought to bear on Micaiah, and that voice is always the most difficult to resist. The temptation thus addressed to Micaiah was thus double in force. On the one hand, there were the pomp and the terror of the king who had sold himself to do evil, and who would shrink from the infliction of no cruelty that would express his unreasoning and unlimited anger; on the other hand, there was the good will of the messenger, who wished Micaiah to escape all danger and penalty, and for once to take the popular side. Micaiah’s reply is simply sublime: “As the Lord liveth, what the Lord saith unto me, that will I speak.”