Psychological warfare: Lessons from King Hezekiah
Hey friend,
I have two words: psychological warfare.
My initial thought was, ‘Dang, these people from Nineveh are something else!’ Out of curiosity, I dug a little deeper to figure out if King Sennacherib lived before, during, or after Jonah. Because this is the same Nineveh that Jonah went to preach repentance to, but did so begrudgingly and only after he was trapped inside the belly of the whale for 3 days. Which is super ironic to me right now, but for other reasons that are besides the point, so that’s a story for another day.
But it dawned on me. It’s not just the people from Nineveh who are the problem. I learned through additional study that although they accepted the message of Jonah, they refused the message of Jesus. Make that make sense. But, aren’t we guilty of the same? Sorry, friend, there I go speaking on your behalf. Confession: I am guilty of the same. At times, a man’s word carries more weight than God’s. Does that mean I am once again guilty of worshipping at the altar of man? And what if it’s me? What if I am the one believing all the negative things I say to myself, even when said beliefs contradict what God says? Is it possible that I am just like the Ninevites? And you? Any resemblance?Â
Let me explain. As I walked to digest what I had just read, I was reminded of the book of Ecclesiastes. “That which has been is what will be, that which is done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun. Is there anything of which it may be said, ‘See, this is new?’ It has already been in ancient times before us” (Ecclesiastes 1:9-10, NKJV). There is nothing new. And that is bringing a strange sense of comfort because it makes me feel a lot less alone and curious about how kings of the past navigated the same. Additional resources helped me to understand that the Assyrians were notorious for their idolatry and cruelty. Although I wouldn’t categorize myself as cruel, I can definitely relate to the idolatry portion. How so? Great question.
Welp. If I consider the definition of idolatry, it’s pretty much the excessive devotion or reverence for anything, something, someone, etc., other than God. And as I quietly ran a quick inventory of myself, I realized, yet again, I’m guilty, guilty as charged. Being a Christian is hard work, isn’t it? But, as painful as it is, I love that the Bible is the most incredible mirror, it very subtly calls me ugly, and not like my family did growing up, but in ways that don’t sting, actually feel loving, and that in moments like this, gently nudge me to cling tighter to him. I don’t want to be ugly in his sight.
I eventually found myself in the book of Samuel. “The battle is the Lord’s” (1 Samuel 17:47, NKJV). But is it really though? Because I don’t always act like it. Do you? Or, am I alone in this, too? Because sometimes I act like the battle is mine. And I refuse to let go. I know I’ve read that, heck, I’ve even reminded others of it. It’s in my heart, and yet I still can’t help but wonder. Is he still really out there battling on my behalf? Like today? As in, right now? Because the instant gratification that I’ve become accustomed to is like, well, I didn’t see anything happen today. Believe me, I checked. And there is no package waiting for me on the porch. Therefore, it’s reasonable to conclude that he isn’t. He hasn’t. Nor will he ever. I’m rolling my eyes at myself and how dramatic I’ve become. There is no “instant download” with him. And sometimes, it drives me nuts.
And there you have it, friend. Welcome to my internal dialogue! See, I sound exactly like the Assyrians did. I am entirely confident that the LORD is stretching out his hand and moving mountains on your behalf, even when we can’t see it. But yet I silently inquire of myself, by myself, and for myself. “Is he really doing that for me?” Don’t listen to Hezekiah! Immediately, I can see myself standing in front of a mirror, but instead of seeing my own reflection, looking back at me is the Rabshakeh. “The who?” (That’s what I first wondered.) So once again, I went down the rabbit hole. In that, I learned that the Rabshakeh is not a person, but rather, it’s a title, and they are part of a delegation sent to intimidate and persuade. In 2 Kings, the intended target is the Judeans. (The Rabshakeh is an intimidator.) And in my imagination, me! I am my own Rabshakeh.Â
Cause guess what? That Rabshakeh is still very much alive. Well, at least for me, he is. He is the one sent to undermine my faith, morale, and trust in God during times of adversity. And even though I’m not big on gambling, I would bet that from time to time, a Rabsakeh has been sent to undermine yours. (Hence, my recollection of the book of Ecclesiastes.) There is nothing new under the sun. There are still those, like the Assyrians, sent to undermine the faith of others, saying, “But do not listen to Hezekiah, lest he persuade you, saying ‘The LORD will deliver us'” (2 Kings 18:32, NKJV). Can you hear the taunting? King Hezekiah was reminding his people that the LORD would deliver them. And here are the Assyrians saying, Don’t listen to Hezekiah. Which I now hear today as, “Girl, don’t do it, it’s not worth it.”
But the good news is that the LORD still delivers his people. The logical portion of my brain tells me so. And I am grateful for the documented response of King Hezekiah, as it serves as a framework for me to follow here and now. “But the people held their peace and answered him not a word; for the king’s commandment was, ‘Do not answer him” (2 Kings 18:36, NKJV). He instructed them not to answer him a word. And as for King Hezekiah himself? The Bible tells us that, “And so it was, when King Hezekiah heard it, that he tore his clothes; covered himself with sackcloth, and went into the house of the LorD” (2 Kings 19:2, NKJV).
And then again a few verses later, “And Hezekiah received the letter from the hand of the messengers, and read it; and Hezekiah went up to the house of the Lord, and spread it before the Lord. Then Hezekiah prayed before the Lord and said ‘O LORD God of Israel, the One who dwells between the cherubim, You are God, You alone, of all the kingdoms of the earth. You have made heaven and earth. Incline Your ear, O LORD, and hear; open Your eyes, O LORD, and see; and hear the words of Sennacherib, which he has sent to reproach the living God. Truly, Lord the kings of Assyria have laid waste the nations and their lands, and have cast their gods into the fire; for they were not gods, but the work of men’s hands —wood and stone. There they destroyed them. Now therefore, O LORD our God, I pray, save us from his hand, that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that YOU are the LORD God, You alone” (2 Kings 19:14-19, NKJV).Â
He went to the house of the LORD. He spread it before the LORD. He worshiped the LORD, even in his prayer request. And his motive? It was so that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that HE is the LORD God. “You alone,” he said. Not you and me. And here I am being ugly, and being okay with it. Why? Because I’m praying for things that will make me, myself, and I comfy and cozy right along with all of the things that I profess to “need.” Yet, king Hezekiah ran to the LORD with his request, so that he might be exalted. And just like that, I received the much-needed and gentle reminder that it’s not about me. I am not the main character of this story, as much as I act like I am at times. He is. He is the main character, and he is so ridiculously worthy of being exalted.Â
God answers his prayer, by the way. “And it came to pass on a certain night that the angel of the LORD went out, and killed in the camp of the Assyrians one hundred and eighty-five thousand; and when people arose early in the morning, there were the corpses —all dead” (2 Kings 20:35, NKJV).
One hundred and eighty-five thousand of them. Dead. How’s that for a response to prayer?
What if I today I commit to forsaking myself, hold my peace, and instead shift my prayers to, “now therefore, O LORD our God, I pray, save our nation from the hand of the enemy of our souls, and use me so that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that YOU are the LORD God, You alone. And what if you, my friend, did the same?Â
It’s a game of psychological warfare, ain’t it?
Not today, you ugly Rabshakeh, not today,
iK
P.S. If you want to follow along with me, below is an affiliate link to the one-year bible I am using.