Follow your Father. (1 Kings 22; 41-53)

The Bible Project Daily Podcast is a daily, in-depth study of the entire Bible, chapter by chapter, verse by verse. 

Episode Notes: Follow your Father. (1 Kings 22; 41-53)

According to the bible, children are called to obey and honour their parents. This is a clear instruction that forms the foundation of the parent-child relationship in early life. 

But the question remains: should you always follow your parents? Some may immediately agree, while others may hesitate or question this idea. The answer depends on who the parent is and in what area you are considering following them.

 This distinction is important, and as we progress through the book of 1 Kings, we encounter the final paragraph of the last chapter of 1 Kings in which are two stories are presented—each about a different king.

 What is most striking is that one king followed his father, and that proved to be beneficial, while another king followed his father and that had negative consequences.

Now the topic itself is complex. Some do not have fathers, and this presents its own questions and challenges.  Ultimately, there are two primary answers to this question, with several nuances in between….

Transcript

Follow your Father. (1 Kings 22; 41-53) 

Introduction: Obey, Honour, and Follow Your Parents

According to the bible, children are called to obey and honour their parents. This is a clear instruction that forms the foundation of the parent-child relationship in early life.

However, as one grows into adulthood, the nature of this responsibility shifts. Adults are no longer required to obey their parents, but the duty to honour them remains.

This principle is widely recognised and understood. Yet, there is another aspect to consider: should you follow your parents? Proverbs reminds us of the saying, “like father, like son”. This could just as easily apply to daughters following their fathers, or fathers following their daughters.

The question remains: should you follow your parents? Some may immediately agree, while others may hesitate or question this idea. The answer depends on who the parent is and in what area you are considering following them.

This distinction is important, and it is the reason for raising the subject. 

You see, as we progress through the book of 1 Kings, we encounter the final paragraph of the last chapter. Here, two stories are presented—each about a different king.

What is most striking is that one king followed his father, and that proved to be beneficial, while another king followed his father and that had negative consequences.

This provides valuable instruction for us all. There is wisdom in examining these passages and considering further examples, especially those found in the New Testament.

The topic itself is complex. Some do not have fathers, and this presents its own questions and challenges.

Ultimately, there are two primary answers to this question, with several nuances in between….

With this in mind, let us turn to 1 Kings chapter 22, beginning with verse 41, to explore the story of another king:

Jehoshaphat King of Judah

41 Jehoshaphat, son of Asa, became king of Judah in the fourth year of Ahab, king of Israel. 42 Jehoshaphat was thirty-five years old when he became king, and he reigned in Jerusalem twenty-five years. His mother’s name was Azubah, daughter of Shilhi. 43 In everything he followed the ways of his father, Asa, and did not stray from them; he did what was right in the eyes of the Lord. The high places, however, were not removed, and the people continued to offer sacrifices and burn incense there. 44 Jehoshaphat was also at peace with the king of Israel.

45 As for the other events of Jehoshaphat’s reign, the things he achieved and his military exploits, are they not written in the book of the annals of the kings of Judah? 46 He rid the land of the rest of the male shrine prostitutes who remained there even after the reign of his father, Asa. 47 There was then no king in Edom; a provincial governor ruled.

48 Now Jehoshaphat built a fleet of trading ships to go to Ophir for gold, but they never set sail—they were wrecked at Ezion Geber. 49 At that time, Ahaziah, son of Ahab, said to Jehoshaphat, “Let my men sail with yours,” but Jehoshaphat refused.

50 Then Jehoshaphat rested with his ancestors and was buried with them in the city of David, his father. And Jehoram, his son, succeeded him as king.

(1 Kings 22: 41-50)

The opening verse tells us Jehoshaphat became king over Judah in the fourth year of Ahab, king of Israel.

Let me walk you through this in a way that’s a bit easier to follow as we think about it together.

So, when the text mentions Judah, it’s referring to the southern kingdom. And when it says Israel in this section, it’s talking about the northern kingdom. That can get confusing if you don’t slow down and notice it—but really, the verse is just setting the historical scene.

What it’s telling us is simple: there’s a man named Jehoshaphat, and he becomes king over Judah—the southern kingdom—and his reign is dated alongside the king in the north. That’s all that’s happening there.

Then we’re told a few basic details. He’s 35 years old when he becomes king, and he reigns for 25 years. There’s also a brief mention of his mother, Azubah, and even a reference to his family line. It might feel like unnecessary detail, but in Scripture, these details are there to remind us that we’re dealing with real history—real people, real families, real influence.

Now, here’s something important that we learn from elsewhere in Scripture: Jehoshaphat didn’t begin ruling alone. For a time, he reigned alongside his father. He was what’s called a co-regent.

And that matters.

Because it means his father didn’t just influence him at a distance—he shaped him up close. They ruled together. And that’s a different kind of influence, isn’t it? Many of us have fathers, but not all of us have worked side by side with them, watched their decisions unfold in real time, and seen how they carry responsibility. 

That kind of close proximity will deepen influence—for good or for ill.

Now step back for a moment and see the bigger picture.

Across the history of both kingdoms—north and south—there are dozens of kings. Roughly 39 in total. And out of all of them, only a handful—about eight—are described as truly good kings.

Jehoshaphat is one of them.

Now, he’s not in the very top tier like someone like Hezekiah. He doesn’t quite reach that level of spiritual clarity or reform. But still, he’s overall a good king. A faithful man in many respects. Not perfect, as we’re about to see, but genuinely seeking to do what is right.

And that brings us to one of the most important verses here.

We’re told that he “walked in the ways of his father Asa” and “did what was right in the eyes of the Lord.”

That’s significant.

Because what we’re seeing here is a man whose spiritual life is, at least in part, shaped by his father. He follows the Lord—and he does so by following the example set before him.

That’s a powerful pattern.

But then comes that word: nevertheless.

And that one word changes the tone.

Because while he did what was right, we’re told that the high places were not removed. The people continued offering sacrifices and burning incense there.

Now, remember what those high places were. Originally, they were local sites of worship—places where people worshipped the Lord. But over time, especially in the northern kingdom, they became corrupted. They turned into centres of idolatry—places where false gods were worshipped.

So, here’s the tension in Jehoshaphat’s life:

He starts well. He removes idols. He leads in the right direction. But at some point, the people rebuild those high places—and he doesn’t remove them again.

So yes, he does what is right… but not wholeheartedly.

There’s a kind of partial obedience here. A good beginning, but not a sustained reform. He’s faithful, but not thorough. Obedient, but not complete.

And then we’re told something else—something that at first sounds positive.

He makes peace with the king of Israel.

Now, on the surface, that sounds like wisdom. Peace instead of war—that’s a good thing, isn’t it?

But in this case, it comes with consequences.

Because that alliance draws him into dangerous territory. In fact, his family becomes intertwined with the northern kingdom. His son marries into the house of Ahab.

And that should ring alarm bells.

Because Ahab is married to Jezebel—the one who actively promoted the worship of Baal in Israel. So, what seems like a political alliance actually becomes a spiritual compromise.

And Scripture tells us plainly: a prophet rebukes Jehoshaphat for this. Why? Because his decision opened the door to idolatry.

So now you have a striking contrast across generations.

A father—Asa—who influences his son toward faithfulness.

A son—Jehoshaphat—who largely follows that example, though imperfectly.

And then a grandson… who does not follow in the same way and instead is shaped by the influence coming from the other side—from a compromised alliance.

And that raises a sobering truth for us.

Influence doesn’t just flow downward—it multiplies outward.

Faithfulness in one generation can shape the next. But compromise, even subtle compromise, can open the door for spiritual decline further down the line.

And Jehoshaphat stands right in the middle of that tension—a good man, a faithful king in many ways… but not without cracks.

Alright, let’s keep moving through this together, because now the picture gets a little fuller—and a little more honest.

So, we’ve already seen the headline: Jehoshaphat did what was right. He followed his father. Spiritually, that set him on a good path.

But—there were cracks.

One of them, as we’ve touched on, shows up in his family decisions. That alliance through marriage—it just shouldn’t have happened. However understandable it may have been politically, spiritually it was a misstep. And Scripture doesn’t ignore that tension.

Now, the text then does something quite typical. It basically says: “There’s more to his story.”

It points us to other records—the chronicles of the kings of Judah. And when you go there, especially into 2 Chronicles 17 through 20, you begin to see a much richer picture of who this man was.

And to be fair to him—there’s a lot of good.

For instance, he actively promotes the teaching of God’s law throughout the land. That’s not a small thing. That’s leadership that’s intentionally shaping a nation toward truth.

We’re also told that when a coalition of enemies—Moab, Ammon, and Edom—comes against him, he doesn’t rely first on military strategy. He prays. He seeks the Lord. And God delivers him in a remarkable way.

So, this is not a passive man. He’s spiritually engaged. At key moments, he leans in the right direction.

And beyond that, he brings reform to the nation’s justice system. He’s not just concerned with worship, but with how righteousness plays out in public life.

Then we get to something that, even today, feels uncomfortable—but it matters.

We’re told he removes the male shrine prostitutes, what the text actually calls “perverted persons” from the land. In context, this refers to male prostitutes connected with pagan worship—particularly Baal worship.

So, what is he doing?

He’s cleaning house. He’s confronting not just idolatry in theory, but the moral practices tied to it. He’s aligning the nation, however imperfectly, with the standards laid out in the law of God.

That’s costly leadership. That’s conviction in action.

We’re also told that Edom is effectively under his control—not through direct kingship, but through a kind of delegated authority. It’s a sign of political strength and regional influence.

And then… there’s the shipping venture.

He builds a fleet, aiming to go and acquire gold—very much in the spirit of Solomon’s earlier achievements. It’s ambitious. It’s strategic.

And it completely fails.

The ships are wrecked before they even accomplish their mission.

Now here’s where it gets interesting.

Another king—Ahaziah, the son of Ahab—comes along and says, “Let’s partner up. Let my servants go with yours.”

And this time, Jehoshaphat refuses.

Which is actually a moment of growth.

Because earlier, he did enter into unwise alliances. But here, he draws a line. He says no. It’s as if he’s learned—at least partially—from previous mistakes.

And then, as the text so often does, it closes his life simply and quietly:

He dies. He’s buried. His son takes the throne.

And that’s it.

So, let’s step back and try to hold all of this together.

Because one way to describe his life—and I think this is helpful—is that it’s… a mixed bag.

He follows the Lord. Genuinely. Sincerely.

But not consistently.

One writer helpfully breaks it down into three areas of compromise:

Bible commentators identify three areas of compromise in his life.

There the marriage compromise, the alliance through marriage with Ahab’s family.

There’s the battle compromise, joining forces in a war where he shouldn’t have, and being rebuked for it.

And there’s the boat compromise, this failed economic partnership and venture.

And when you lay those alongside his faithfulness, you start to see the pattern.

At his best, when he’s seeking the Lord, he makes wise, courageous, spiritually grounded decisions.

But at other moments, he leans on human judgment. Political instinct and pragmatism.

And that’s where things begin to unravel.

Now, if we’re honest… that feels familiar, doesn’t it?

If someone were to evaluate your life—or mine—would they say it’s entirely consistent?

Or would they say… Is it a bit of a mixture?

Moments of real obedience. Real clarity. Real faith.

And then other moments where we drift. Compromise. Rationalise.

So, before we move on, let me just summarise his life in a few clear strokes.

·         He follows his father’s example in resisting idolatry—but he doesn’t fully eliminate it.

·         He begins his reign alongside his father, shaped closely by that influence.

·         He makes peace with Ahab—but in doing so, creates spiritual vulnerability.

·         He removes corrupt practices from the land—showing real moral courage.

·         He extends influence over Edom—demonstrating political strength.

·         And he undertakes this ambitious shipping venture, which ultimately fails.

So, here’s the simplest way to say it:

When he follows the Lord, he thrives.

When he relies on himself, things get shaky.

And that brings us to a very personal question.

What kind of influence shaped you?

Did you have a father—or someone in your life—who genuinely followed the Lord?

And if you did… did that shape you?

Because the pattern here is hard to miss:

If you have a godly example—and you follow it—that’s usually a path toward life.

This now sets up a powerful contrast.

Because the passage doesn’t stop there. It introduces us to another king.

Ahaziah, King of Israel.

51 Ahaziah, son of Ahab, became king of Israel in Samaria in the seventeenth year of Jehoshaphat king of Judah, and he reigned over Israel two years. 52 He did evil in the eyes of the Lord, because he followed the ways of his father and mother and of Jeroboam son of Nebat, who caused Israel to sin. 53 He served and worshiped Baal and aroused the anger of the Lord, the God of Israel, just as his father had done.

(1 Kings 22: 51-53)

And again—notice the emphasis—it immediately tells us about his father.

Ahaziah, the son of Ahab, becomes king in the northern kingdom.

And what are we told?

He does evil in the sight of the Lord…. And why?...  Because he walks in the ways of his father… and his mother.

Which means he inherits—and embraces—a pattern of idolatry. A pattern shaped by Ahab and Jezebel. A pattern rooted in Baal worship.

And suddenly, the contrast couldn’t be clearer.

Two men, both shaped by their fathers.

One follows a godly example—and though imperfect, walks in what is right.

The other follows a corrupt example—and continues in what is evil.

Same principle but very different outcomes.

Let’s slow this down and really bring it home, because now the passage presses into something deeply personal. But it’s a question worth asking:

What if your father wasn’t a good spiritual example?

Maybe he was a good man in other ways—but spiritually? Maybe not. Maybe he followed something that wasn’t rooted in truth. Maybe there was confusion, or compromise, or even outright opposition to what is biblical.

Because that happens.

And in this second case, we’re looking at—that’s exactly what we see.

This king doesn’t just have a flawed father… he has a father who led him in the wrong direction. And instead of resisting that influence, he embraces it.

The text makes it crystal clear.

He worships Baal. And in doing so, he provokes the Lord.

And then comes the key phrase: “according to all that his father had done.”

So again, we have that same pattern—like father, like son.

But this time, it’s tragic.

So really, what you have in this passage are two parallel stories.

One son follows his father, and because his father walked in a measure of faithfulness, the outcome is largely good, even if imperfect.

The other son follows his father, and because his father walked in rebellion, the outcome is destructive.

Same principle.

Very different direction.

Now, the text itself ends quite abruptly here. And that’s partly because what we call 1 Kings and 2 Kings were originally one continuous book. 

The break between them isn’t theological—it’s practical. It’s just where the scroll had to be divided.

But even with that abrupt ending, the message lands clearly.

And it raises a bigger question:

What do you do with the influence you’ve been given?

Because when it comes to fathers—or father figures, more broadly—there are really a few possibilities.

Some of you had genuinely godly fathers. They loved the Lord. They modelled faith. They gave you something solid to follow.

Others may have had fathers who led in the wrong direction spiritually—even if they were decent in other respects.

And then, if we’re honest, many fall somewhere in the middle. A mixture. Moments of clarity… and moments of inconsistency.

But here’s the crucial point:

No matter what your father was like…. You are responsible for your own path.

You are not bound to repeat what you were given.

You can follow it.

You can reject it.

Or you can discern—keeping what is good, and refusing what is not.

And that’s exactly what we saw earlier. Jehoshaphat followed what was right in his father’s example—but didn’t fully deal with everything. Even there, there was selectivity.

So, the question becomes: what if you didn’t have that example at all?

What if there was no father—or no father worth following spiritually?

Then what?

Well, the New Testament gives us a powerful answer.

Because it introduces the idea of spiritual fatherhood.

Take the relationship between the Apostle Paul and Timothy. Paul writes to him not just as a mentor, but as a beloved son. There’s no biological connection—but there is deep spiritual formation.

And Paul does two things for Timothy.

First, he warns him.

He describes a world marked by self-love, pride, lack of self-control, and a kind of empty religiosity—a form of godliness without its power. And he says, very simply: don’t follow that.

But then he turns and says…. Follow me.

Not in an abstract sense—but very concretely.

You’ve seen my teaching, you’ve watched my lie, and you’ve observed my purpose, my faith, my patience, my love, my endurance.

In other words, you’ve had an example.

And that’s the point that really matters here.

You cannot live the Christian life in isolation.

It doesn’t work like that.

Yes, you need truth. You need instruction. But you also need something more tangible:

You need embodied faith.

You need to see what it looks like in life.

You need people around you who model trust in God, perseverance under pressure, and genuine love for others.

People who don’t just speak truth, but live it. So every one of us needs an example.

If that was your father—and he walked with the Lord—then that is a gift. Truly. Give thanks for it.

But if it wasn’t—then you are not left without hope, you can find another example.

A spiritual father. A mentor. A mature believer whose life reflects something of Christ, and you follow them, as they follow the Lord.

But that raises the next question: How do you even recognise a good example?

Because that’s not always obvious.

Well, Paul gives us a framework.

      I.        Look at what they teach—does it align with truth?

     II.        Look at how they live—is there integrity?

    III.        Look at their character—faith, patience, love, endurance.

That’s the test.

So maybe the most practical question right now is who fits that description in your life? Is there someone you can point to and say, “I see Christ in them—I want to learn from that”? And if there is—draw close. Learn. Observe. Imitate.

But let me take it one step further because even that isn’t the ultimate answer.

The ultimate example… is God Himself.

If you belong to Christ, then you have a Father who will never fail you, never abandon you, never mislead you. And beyond that, you have Christ—the perfect model of what a human life looks like in full obedience to God.

As Peter says, He left us an example—that we should follow in His steps. And as Paul says, “imitate me, as I imitate Christ.”

So, the chain is clear:

Follow those who follow Christ, and ultimately—follow Christ Himself.

And maybe this lands most powerfully when it becomes personal. Because for some, the absence of a father—or the failure of one—leaves a mark. It shapes you in ways you don’t even fully realise at the time.

Sometimes that only becomes clear much later.

But here’s the hope at the centre of all this:

Whatever was missing, whatever was broken, whatever shaped you negatively… It does not have the final word.

Because in Christ, you are not fatherless. In Christ you are brought into a relationship with a Father who does not leave, does not fail, does not change.

And that’s not just theology. That’s something you can actually build your life on.

Let me just land this and bring it home in a way that hopefully stays with you.

When I say you need an example—I’m not speaking theoretically. I’m speaking from lived experience.

At different stages of life, God brought people into my path—real people—who followed Christ in a way I could see, and learn from, and, in many ways, imitate.

And here’s the point in all of that:

Growth didn’t happen in isolation.

It happened through people.

Through examples.

Through watching, listening, imitating, being corrected, being sharpened, that’s exactly what we’ve been seeing in this passage.

The influences we have in our lives really matter.

Who you follow matters because, over time, you begin to reflect what you consistently place yourself under.

So let me say it as simply as I can:

If you want to grow spiritually, find people who are genuinely following Christ, and draw near to them. 

Watch how they live. Listen to how they think and notice how they respond under pressure.

Learn how they handle the bible and let that shape you. Because that is one of God’s primary means of forming us.

Not just through ideas—but through embodied example. And if you have people like that in your life, don’t overlook it and don’t take it for granted.

But even beyond that—never lose sight of the ultimate example…. Christ Himself.

The one who perfectly reveals the Father. The one who not only teaches truth, but is the truth.

So yes—follow people who follow the Lord.

But make sure your final aim, your deepest allegiance, is to follow Him…..

Outro:

And that brings us to the end of this chapter… and really, the end of what we call 1 Kings.

It closes quietly, almost abruptly—but not without leaving us with something weighty to consider:

Two lives.

Two fathers.

Two paths.

And one enduring question:

Who are you following and where is that leading you?

As we move forward, we’re going to immediately step into what we know as 2 Kings. And the story will continue—but the stakes only get higher.

Because what we’re going to see there is what happens over time—when patterns of faithfulness… or patterns of compromise… are allowed to run their course.

So come back next time, and we’ll pick up the story as it unfolds—watching not just history, but the deeper spiritual currents underneath it.

And as you go, maybe just sit with this one thought:

Find someone who follows Christ…. and follow them—until, more and more, your life begins to look like His.