1 Kings 21:4

1Ki 21:4 And Ahab came into his house heavy and displeased because of the word which Naboth the Jezreelite had spoken to him: for he had said, I will not give thee the inheritance of my fathers. And he laid him down upon his bed, and turned away his face, and would eat no bread.

Ver. 4. And Ahab came into his house heavy and displeased.] Abalienatus et indignabundus; off the hooks, as we say, and in a great discontent; his heart did more afflict and vex itself with greedy longing for that bit of earth, than the vast and spacious compass of a kingdom could counter comfort. So Haman could say, All this availeth me nothing, &c. And Alexander, the monarch of the world, was grievously troubled, because ivy would not grow in his gardens at Babylon. The devil of discontent, whomsoever it possesseth, it maketh his heart a little hell, {a} saith one.

And he laid him down upon his bed.] Sick of the sullens.

And turned away his face.] As not caring to see any, or to be seen of any one: he was totus in fermento.

And would eat no bread.] As if he would starve himself.

{a} ταραττειν, exinde ταρταρος.

John Trapp, A Commentary or Exposition upon All the Books of the Old and New Testament (1647–1656) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

1Ki_21:4

And Ahab came into his house heavy and displeased.

Temper-a deadly sin

In other and less dignified words, Ahab, when he could not get his own way, went to bed in a sulk. I take it that all those who have tried even to be close students of human nature are agreed that life as a rule suffers most, not from the heroic sin or from the deep passion, but from little mean and contemptible sins. These sins are like the grit in the eye--they incense and inflame until it happens that a great and noble faculty can be used no more. And I am going to suggest to this audience that the harmony of life, whether it be of the family life or of the social life of any people, suffers most from two classes of people--the cross-grained man and the shrew. These people are ready, as you know, to take umbrage at the faintest slight, even of a fancied kind, to indulge ill-humour over something that was never intended to be even a contradiction of their views; and when not venting their venom and their spite publicly, they are commonly to be found grumbling in a corner; and if not openly growling, then they are secretly sulking and nourishing their temper. Now, will you bear with me while I say a word about the description itself, because there is a lesson which I think we might learn even from the word. The word temper, as you know, is one of the English words which have gradually come to have a bad sense. It meant in its original to moderate or to modify what was unduly harsh or violent, and in that sense, of course, the word has been frequently used. I found, for instance, a quotation out of one of the early English poets, in which he said that the function of the woman was to temper man--that is, not to put him into a temper, but to modify his naturally harsh, sour, and severe disposition--a function that everybody here will agree woman, as a rule, discharges. The word temper, indeed, is used very commonly for either of two purposes; either to describe a calm, serene, and gracious nature, or else to describe a hasty, fiery, and ill-conditioned nature. But when my dictionary was consulted it told me this: that the good use of the word has, in process of years, become obsolete, and that if the word temper is now used by itself, it can always be trusted to have the bad significance. So that I call you to witness it comes to this: that if you want to speak of good temper you must call it good; but if you want to speak of bad temper you can simply describe it as temper, and everybody will know what you mean. I want to ask you that you will distinguish it from what we call passion. Passion, it is quite true, is often guilty of great and terrible crimes, crimes which arise from the fact that a great quality has become the master instead of being the servant of man. But in bad temper there is nothing so great or dignified or strong as passion. Temper thrives on trivialities. There is no detail so silly; no pretext so trumpery, but it will give the reins to the man of temper. Passion is the sublime; temper is really ridiculous save only for this, that the things it does and the misery it causes would turn all our laughter into tears. To take--for I am anxious that you should continue your analysis--another distinction that will occur to you between the two. Passion is always occasional, it is volcanic, it is soon over. It is like the thunderstorm. It bursts and breaks; then the sky clears blue and genial and warm. But it is always the tendency of temper to be chronic and normal, and it corresponds to what we constantly describe as a certain cross-grained and ill-conditioned nature. Yes, passion is volcanic, but passion knows how to forgive and to forget. But temper is not like that. It keeps all its bitterness within. It nourishes its grudges, it cherishes its slights, it broods over its fancied wrongs. I was wondering how I could best illustrate this part of what I am trying to say, and a comparison occurred to me between two kings of your English history--the one whom I always think of as one of the greatest kings who ever wore the British crown, the first Edward, a man of passion, deeply beloved, and even adored by his people; the man of the passionate pilgrimage, which was to be the evidence of his grief for his wife, to whom Charing Cross is the monument even to-night--a man of volcanic humour, with floods of tears for the evil deeds his passion wrought, and of whom Mr. J. R. Green tells the thrilling and touching story, how he summoned his subjects to Westminster Hall, and when he faced them could not speak to them, but simply buried his face in his hands and burst into tears before them all, and then asked forgiveness for wrongs that he had done. That was the passionate man. I contrast with him the king of temper, John, who never rose to a single great thought or a single great deed, but who after all won the loathing and contempt of his subjects, because Dantes hazy smoke was always in his heart--morbid, sullen, spiteful, malicious. And now that brings me very naturally to the discussion of the text which I have taken, and the narrative to which it refers, a quotation that is familiar to you all. You know that it introduces us to one of the most cold-blooded and gruesome crimes of which history contains any record. The real instigator of that crime, and the executor of the deed was Jezebel. But terrible as Jezebels temper is represented here, I venture to say that to every self-respecting mind the character of Ahab is more loathsome and more contemptible. Jezebel did the thing. Ahab was only the weak confederate of his unscrupulous and bold wife, with her heart of marble. And yet think of it, analyse the scene. Does it not remain, as I say, that Jezebel with all her crimes and her blood-stained hands could even extort the measure of admiration when you consider her spirit, her intrepidity, and her initiative, and realise that if these qualities had been devoted to something worthy of them, she would have been a great woman. But about Ahab there is nothing great; there is everything that is contemptible--nothing more heroic than a fit of temper. I have no doubt that his servants went away and said it was an attack of the liver, and that he would shortly be all right. But Jezebel knew him better. She knew that it was black venom, and spite, and malice, and that if he was to get better and recover these must have their vent. And so she did what he wanted to do, but hadnt the courage to do. That is your whole story in a nutshell. And what is its moral? you say. It is so horrible it has no moral for us. I am not so sure of that. Its moral is this, I take it, that to a man thus evilly conditioned, the natural disposition is to every, sorry and cruel suggestion that may come to him from any quarter. For there he is naturally disposed to think the worst of people and to do them ill. Ah, yes; and if it had not ended except in evil word it had been bad enough, for if I may in an aside I would say this: temper has always found its readiest weapon in the tongue, and who in this building can estimate the evil and the injury that has been done when the tongue has lain at the disposition of temper. Ah, but is it not true to say that it is possible for you and me, while we analyse the temper and desire that Gods love will soften and sweeten the heart--is it not possible, for us to feel some genuine sorrow for them? For, after all, remember that nobody else is made quite so unhappy and so miserable as they make themselves. There they are; they are unwelcome guests at every festival, and I fancy that at last they come to know that people anticipate their advent with apprehension and look upon their backs with relief. They are the frost on every budding happiness, the skeleton that sits at every feast. The cross-grained man and the common scold or shrew isolate themselves from humanity, cut themselves off from the genial and generous debt of life. Their heart becomes like the North Pole--absolutely locked in impenetrable ice. And is there no cure? Oh yes, there is something. The mind that was in Christ Jesus, can it be communicated, or can it not? Is Christianity true when it says: He will give you His Spirit, He will make you like Himself? Is it true or is it not? Some of you here to-night, are you doomed and destined to bear to your grave this burden of which I have been speaking, or is there One whose hands can unloose the thongs and set you free? I know that I am right in what I say. Why, there are friends known to you, and to dwell in their company is gradually to feel dissolve and decay within you your bitter thoughts, and your heart come cordially into sympathy with their genial and generous spirit. That is a great thing; but, oh, men and women, to company with Jesus Christ, to live in His presence, beneath His redeeming touch and influence, that is, indeed, to say good-bye to the bitterness of the heart, that is to receive His sweetness into this bitter-thoughted mind and soul, that is to be mellowed for His harvesting, made ripe and gracious fruit for His hands to gather. That is my gospel Jesus Christ can cure. (C. S. Home, M. A.)

The Biblical Illustrator, edited by Joseph S. Exell (c. 1880s–1900s) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

1Ki 21:4. Ahab came into his house, heavy and displeased — He was so vexed to be denied by a subject the thing he wanted, that his vexation made him sick, took away his stomach, and made company disagreeable to him; so that his grief and trouble appeared in his countenance. Here we see, 1st, That irregular desire, or “discontent, is a sin that is its own punishment, and makes men torment themselves: it makes the spirit sad, the body sick, and all the enjoyments sour: it is the heaviness of the heart, and the rottenness of the bones; 2d, It is a sin that is its own parent; it arises not from the condition, but from the mind. As we find Paul content in a prison, so Ahab discontent in a palace: he had all the delights of Canaan, that pleasant land, at command; the wealth of a kingdom, the pleasure of a court, and the honours and powers of a throne; and yet all this avails him nothing without Naboth’s vineyard. Inordinate desires expose men to continual vexations; and they that are disposed to fret, be they ever so happy, will always find something or other to fret at.” — Henry.

Joseph Benson's Commentary on the Old and New Testaments (1811–1818) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

21:4 angry and sullen: Ahab’s reaction was the same when he was rebuked by God’s prophet (20:43). A sullen attitude can easily arise in a stubborn, self-centered person (21:16, 20, 25-26; see 16:31-32; 18:10, 17; 20:42-43; 22:3, 27-30).

Tyndale Open Study Notes — © Tyndale Open Resources, licensed CC BY-SA 4.0. Text via the HelloAO Bible API.

Thus the wicked consider not what is just and lawful, but fret inwardly, when they cannot have their inordinate appetites satisfied.

Geneva Bible (1599) marginal notes — public domain. Text via Bolls.life.

turned away his face--either to conceal from his attendants the vexation of spirit he felt, or, by the affectation of great sorrow, rouse them to devise some means of gratifying his wishes.

Jamieson, Fausset & Brown — Commentary Critical and Explanatory on the Whole Bible (1871) — public domain (CC PDM 1.0). Text via the HelloAO Bible API.

Verse 4. He laid him down upon his bed] Poor soul! he was lord over ten-twelfths of the land, and became miserable because he could not get a poor man's vineyard added to all that he possessed! It is a true saying, "That soul in which God dwells not, has no happiness: and he who has God has a satisfying portion." Every privation and cross makes an unholy soul unhappy; and privations and crosses it must ever meet with, therefore: -

"Where'er it goes is hell; itself is hell!"

Adam Clarke's Commentary on the Bible (1810–1826) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.

4. And Ahab came into his house] The last four words are omitted by the LXX., as also the clause ‘because of the word … the inheritance of my fathers.’ It is clear from the continuation of the story that it was to Samaria that Ahab came back after his interview with Naboth.

heavy and displeased] See above, on 1Ki_20:43.

And he laid him down, &c.] This detail shews, like so much else in Ahab’s history, what a feeble character he was, and how thoroughly he would be dominated by the more powerful mind of Jezebel. While absent from her, some signs of improvement might appear, even such as might seem to Elijah to promise hopes of a change; but when she appears they are all gone. And the moodiness here described is rather that of a wayward child, than of a man of mature years and high position.

The Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges (gen. ed. J. J. S. Perowne; Cambridge University Press, 1878–1918) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

But Jezebel his wife came unto him, and said, why is thy spirit so sad, that thou eatest no bread? She perceived he was low spirited, and supposed he had met with something that had ruffled him, and made him so uneasy that he could not eat his food; and she desired to know what it was, that she might relieve him if possible.

But Jezebel his wife came unto him, and said, why is thy spirit so sad, that thou eatest no bread? She perceived he was low spirited, and supposed he had met with something that had ruffled him, and made him so uneasy that he could not eat his food; and she desired to know what it was, that she might relieve him if possible.

1 Kings 21:6

kg1 21:6

kg1 21:6

kg1 21:6And he said, because I spake unto Naboth the Jezreelite, and said unto him, give me thy vineyard for money,.... Sell it him at his own price:

or else, if it please thee; if he liked it better:

I will give thee another vineyard for it; as good, or better; and he answered, I will not give thee my vineyard; he represents this answer as surly and ill natured, and as the effect of obstinacy, concealing the reason Naboth alleged for his denial.

John Gill's Exposition of the Whole Bible (1746–1763) — public domain (CC PDM 1.0). Text via the HelloAO Bible API.

Upon his bed - That is, “upon his couch.” The Jews, like other Orientals, reclined upon couches at their meals (Amo 6:4; Eze 23:41, etc.). Ahab turns his face toward the back of the couch, rejecting all converse with others, and so remains, after the banquet is served, refusing to partake of it. Such an open manifestation of ill temper is thoroughly characteristic of an Oriental king.

Albert Barnes' Notes on the Bible (1834–1885) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.

Fretting. The Hebrew terms are the same as [in] chap. xx. 43. What weakness in Achab! Riches and honours are not capable of ensuring content. (Calmet) --- "Who, thinkest thou, is poor; the man who is content with his own, or he who covets another’s property?" (St. Ambrose, Naboth ii.) --- Wall, as Ezechias did afterwards, in very different dispositions; though both were oppressed with grief, Isaias xxxviii. 2. Septuagint, "he covered his face." (Haydock)

George Leo Haydock (1774–1849), Haydock's Catholic Family Bible and Commentary, 1859 edition — public domain. Excludes Psalms (Douay-Rheims chapter numbering differs from Protestant) and Deuterocanonical books (Catholic canon only).

Turned away his face from the light, and company which either then were with him, or might come to him to the wall, as Hezekiah did under a like dejection of spirit, Isa 38:2.

Would eat no bread; refused to eat meat in his usual time.

Matthew Poole's English Annotations on the Holy Bible (1683–1685) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.

4. Heavy and displeased — Sulky and sour, just as he was after receiving the word of the Lord from one of the sons of the prophets. Chap. 1Ki_20:43. His going to bed, and turning away his face, and refusing to eat, shows up most vividly his mean passions and the childish fretfulness of his disposition.

Daniel D. Whedon (gen. ed.), Commentary on the Old and New Testaments (1874–1909) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

And Ahab came into his house At Samaria, as we gather from vers. 18, 14, 16, etc. heavy and displeased Heb. sullen and angry; same words as in 1Ki_20:43. Ewald thinks that we have here a clear reference to that passage because of the word which Naboth the Jezreellte had spoken to him: for Heb. and he had said, I will not give thee the inheritance of my fathers. And he laid him down upon his bed Rawlinson understands this to mean the couch on which the Orientals recline at meals. And hFmi is used with this meaning in Esther Eze_23:41, and elsewhere. But his bed" seems rather to point to his private chamber; see on ver. 5, and turned away his face The Vulgate adds ad parietem. Cf., 2Ki_20:2; from which place it may have been unconsciously introduced here and would eat no bread. Keil contends that" this childish mode of giving expression to his displeasure shows very clearly that Ahab was a man sold under sin (ver. 20), who only wanted the requisite energy to display the wickedness of his heart in vigorous action;" but whether this is a just inference from these words may well be questioned. It rather shows that so little did he meditate evil that he accepted the refusal of Naboth as conclusive, and gave way to childish grief.

The Pulpit Commentary (1880–1919), ed. H.D.M. Spence-Jones & Joseph S. Exell — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.