Raised by God, Ruined by Sin

1 Kings 16:1-7 ESV

1 And the word of the Lord came to Jehu the son of Hanani against Baasha, saying, 2 “Since I exalted you out of the dust and made you leader over my people Israel, and you have walked in the way of Jeroboam and have made my people Israel to sin, provoking me to anger with their sins, 3 behold, I will utterly sweep away Baasha and his house, and I will make your house like the house of Jeroboam the son of Nebat. 4 Anyone belonging to Baasha who dies in the city the dogs shall eat, and anyone of his who dies in the field the birds of the heavens shall eat.”

5 Now the rest of the acts of Baasha and what he did, and his might, are they not written in the Book of the Chronicles of the Kings of Israel? 6 And Baasha slept with his fathers and was buried at Tirzah, and Elah his son reigned in his place. 7 Moreover, the word of the Lord came by the prophet Jehu the son of Hanani against Baasha and his house, both because of all the evil that he did in the sight of the Lord, provoking him to anger with the work of his hands, in being like the house of Jeroboam, and also because he destroyed it.

The pages of Scripture are not just history—they are God’s mirror held up to our lives. And yet, too often, we skim over passages like 1 Kings 16. Lists of kings, brief accounts of reigns, details that seem dry or distant—these are the very portions of God’s Word we are tempted to neglect. But God did not preserve every word of Scripture for our convenience. He preserved it because even in the overlooked sections, there are warnings, lessons, and truths that demand our attention.

This series, “Thrones Without God,” dares us to look squarely at the kings of Israel, not as distant figures of history, but as vivid examples of what happens when human ambition replaces divine authority. Thrones may rise, dynasties may flourish, but any crown that stands apart from God is fragile and fleeting. God’s hand rules even when men rebel.

Today, we begin at a pivotal moment—a moment that sets the stage for choices that will echo through an entire kingdom. As we read, we are not mere spectators. We are witnesses to God’s sovereign standards, warned of the danger of empty authority, and called to see that even the sections of Scripture often ignored speak powerfully to our lives. Thrones without God always crumble—but the lessons here can save us from the same fate.

As we open this chapter, the first thing that we see is that in the northern kingdom of Israel, a king had already been reigning for some time. His name was, Baasha the son of Ahijah. And as we begin our exposition we see that likely towards the end of the king’s reign, “the word of the Lord came… against Baasha”.

This word which God had given came to a prophet named Jehu, who actually wasn’t even a resident of the northern Kingdom of Israel, but who lived in Jerusalem in the southern Kingdom of Judah.

That this word which God had given to Jehu is to said to “come against” Baasha indicates that the word which the Lord had spoken concerning Baasha was a word of judgment. It was not a word of blessing or favor, it was a word of doom.

Continuing then to verses two and three, we see both the contents of this word and the reason why this word is spoken against Baasha.

First of all, God says that He “exalted” Baasha “out of the dust”. Now, when we read that the place where Baasha was exalted from was “out of the dust”, it means that the king came from a very low estate and from a virtually unknown family. That much is true as Baasha descended from the small, unremarkable tribe of Issachar, which, by this time was nothing more than a small, agriculturally-oriented tribe with no political ties whatsoever.

But we read that though Baasha had come from such a tribe and from such a family, though he came “out of the dust”, he was nonetheless “exalted”. To be exalted means to be elevated. And so, in this case, Baasha being “exalted” signifies being elevated from his naturally low estate to a high estate. And not only a high estate, but the highest estate in the northern kingdom, going from descending from an insignificant family in an insignificant tribe to being made king over Israel.

And this exaltation, God says, did not come about because of the cunning and ability of Baasha, though he might think it did. But rather, Baasha’s exaltation came about because God Himself willed for Baasha to possess the kingship and then proceeded to ensure that he was made king. So, it was God Himself Who lifted Baasha from the dust and exalted him to the position of king.

Before we move on, we must pause here and feel the weight of this. Baasha’s story begins where many of ours do—not with achievement, but with mercy. Every position we hold, every influence we possess, every opportunity we enjoy has come to us because God willed it so. And the great danger is not that we forget where we came from, but that we forget Who brought us there. Prosperity has a way of dulling gratitude, and elevation often exposes the heart rather than improving it.

We see this played out in the text, for though this happened, though God Himself had made Baasha king over Israel, still, Baasha refused to submit to the very God Who made him king. Instead, we read that Baasha has “walked in the way of Jeroboam”.

Right before Baasha began to reign over Israel, God had exterminated the dynasty of Jeroboam. In fact, God had used Baasha himself to destroy Jeroboam’s dynasty as Baasha killed every last male that descended from Jeroboam.

And the reason why God had destroyed Jeroboam’s dynasty was because Jeroboam had replaced the pure worship of the Lord in Israel with a syncretized worship, using idols. That was why God destroyed the house of Jeroboam; he did not follow the Lord in truth, and he encouraged Israel to do the same.

But again, we read that Baasha “walked in the very ways of Jeroboam”. So, like the fool that he was, Baasha continued the very practice that caused God to destroy the house of Jeroboam in the first place.

This is where the text presses uncomfortably close to us. Baasha did not invent new sins; he simply continued old ones. He repeated what had already been judged. And how often do we do the same? We excuse patterns we know God has condemned because they are familiar, culturally accepted, or seem to bring stability. Familiar sin is still rebellion, and tolerated idolatry is no less offensive to the Lord because it is inherited.

And just like Jeroboam before him, because Baasha continued this wicked practice, he in turn “made Israel to sin” by encouraging and influencing those he ruled over to abominably worship as he worshiped.

Here, the text reminds us that leadership always multiplies consequences. Baasha did not sin alone—he carried others with him. But this principle extends beyond kings. Parents, pastors, elders, husbands, employers—none of us live in isolation. Our private compromises often become public patterns. The question is not whether we influence others, but what direction that influence is pointing them.

Well, the Lord says that the direction that Baasha pointing His people Israel to only managed to incite Him “to anger”. And so, in this, the Lord tells His prophet that Baasha, in continuing the very practices that moved Him to destroy the house of Jeroboam, has essentially invited the anger of the Lord and the subsequent wrath that follows.

And so, looking back to the first word of this second verse, “since”, the Lord says that “since” this is the case, since Baasha has essentially invited the anger of the Lord, the Lord then “will utterly sweep away Baasha and his house”.

When God says that He will sweep away Baasha and his house, the meaning is pretty obvious: he will destroy the dynasty of Baasha to the point that there is no chance of renewal, no chance of there ever being a potential heir to the throne.

The conclusion is rather obvious, God completely destroyed the house of Jeroboam for the things that Jeroboam had done, and because Baasha has done the very same things that Jeroboam had done, his house too will be completely destroyed. It’s just as our reading says, the house of Baasha will be “like the house of Jeroboam the son of Nebat”.

And again, it is a sweeping away that will be carried out by God Himself as He uses secondary means to accomplish His purpose. For, as it is the King of heaven and earth Who makes kings rise, so is it the King of heaven and earth Who makes kings fall in accordance with His own good pleasure.

Indeed, so certain is the threatened promise to this doomed dynasty that the words that are used to promise its destruction are the very words that were used when destruction was promised to come upon the house of Jeroboam: As verse four tells us, “Anyone belonging to Baasha who dies in the city the dogs shall eat, and anyone of his who dies in the field the birds of heaven shall eat”.

Complete, thorough, absolute destruction is promised for the house of Baasha. The judgment and the destruction that is promised in that destruction is inescapable: whether one belonging to the house of Baasha makes himself plain or attempts to hide away, he will surely be brought to an end.

But though the threatened promise of God’s judgment will come to pass in the next generation, we read in verses five and six that Baasha himself dies quietly, dying a natural death, and being buried in the northern royal city of Tirzah.

But as we conclude our exposition this morning, looking at verse seven, we come to something that may seem shocking to us. The seventh verse begins with the word “moreover”, which signifies “in addition to what has already been said”. And so, the author tells us that this judgment of God came against Baasha not only because he walked in the ways of Jeroboam, but “also because he destroyed it”.

So, in this, the author observes that God promised destruction to the house of Baasha not only because he acted like Jeroboam and did the very things that Jeroboam did, but also because he destroyed the house of Jeroboam.

Now, this may confuse you, and understandably so. Because God had not only ordained the destruction of the House of Jeroboam, but He had even used Baasha to accomplish what He had ordained. So, why is Baasha’s house going to be destroyed for the very thing that God ordained to happen?

The answer is simple, yet complex, for while God ordained the destruction of the House of Jeroboam, He did not cause Baasha to enact the destruction, but rather, this was the sinful desire of Baasha already. It was his desire to destroy the House of Jeroboam, God allowed this desire to reach full effect, and in so doing, destruction came upon the House of Jeroboam as God had decreed.

God ordained the event, but Baasha carried it out according to his own sinful desires—not out of obedience to God, but out of ambition and violence. And for that, he is judged.

And thus, the divine ordination of this destruction did not excuse the sin of Baasha, who had destroyed the house. It was a sinful desire which drove him to destroy it; that which he accomplished was sinful, yet God used this sinful desire and accomplishment to bring to pass His own holy purposes. Thus, it is here that we see that God brought this judgment against Baasha for his own sins in accomplishing his own sinful desires in the destruction of the House of Jeroboam.

As we bring this passage to a close, God does not leave us merely with the rubble of fallen thrones. He brings us instead to a Table—one that stands in deliberate contrast to everything we have seen in Baasha. For here, we are reminded that the kingdom of God is not built by ambition, preserved by power, or secured by imitation, but established by obedience, humility, and sacrifice.

Baasha was exalted from the dust and responded with pride. At the Lord’s Table, we behold One Who was exalted from eternity and willingly humbled Himself unto death. Baasha ruled by seizing a throne; Christ reigns by giving Himself. Baasha repeated the sins of Jeroboam; Christ bore the sins of His people. The bread and the cup preach this gospel wordlessly but powerfully: salvation does not come through human authority, but through divine self-giving.

This Table also warns us. Just as Baasha was not excused because God used him, we are not excused simply because we bear the name of Christ. The Supper calls us to examine ourselves—not to see whether we are worthy, for none are—but to see whether we are repentant, trusting, and clinging to Christ alone. Thrones without God always fall, but hearts humbled before God are sustained by grace.

Here, we are reminded that God’s judgment against sin is real and unavoidable. The destruction promised to Baasha’s house tells us that God does not overlook rebellion. But the Supper tells us something equally true and far more glorious: that judgment has fallen—fully and finally—upon Christ in the place of His people. The cup we drink proclaims that wrath has been satisfied; the bread we eat proclaims that a body was given so that sinners might live.

As we come to this Table, then, we do so not as kings, but as beggars—beggars welcomed by a gracious King. We come remembering that every blessing we possess has lifted us from the dust, and that every hope we have rests not in our obedience, but in Christ’s perfect obedience for us. Let us come in reverent fear, in sincere repentance, and in confident faith, rejoicing that the King Who humbles the proud also feeds His people with mercy and life.

*Communion