Suffering and comfort

Loyalty Amid Storms: How the Suffering Find Comfort When Powers Collide

When Ptolemy schemes and empires collide, Jonathan walks the narrow road between rivals — where is comfort for the suffering?

BibleVibe Editorial5 min read
TranslationESV
1 Maccabees 11:1-20

Ptolemy Invades Syria Then the king of Egypt gathered great forces, like the sand by the seashore, and many ships; and he tried to get possession of Alexander’s kingdom by trickery and add it to his own kingdom. He set out for Syria with peaceable words, and the people of the cities opened their gates to him and went to meet him, for Alexander the king had commanded them to meet him, since he was Alexander’s father-in-law. But when Ptol′emy entered the cities he stationed forces as a garrison in each city. When he approached Azo′tus, they showed him the temple of Dagon burned down, and Azo′tus and its suburbs destroyed, and the corpses lying about, and the charred bodies of those whom Jonathan had burned in the war, for they had piled them in heaps along his route. They also told the king what Jonathan had done, to throw blame on him; but the king kept silent. Jonathan met the king at Joppa with pomp, and they greeted one another and spent the night there. And Jonathan went with the king as far as the river called Eleu′therus; then he returned to Jerusalem. So King Ptol′emy gained control of the coastal cities as far as Seleu′cia by the sea, and he kept devising evil designs against Alexander. He sent envoys to Deme′trius the king, saying, “Come, let us make a covenant with each other, and I will give you in marriage my daughter who was Alexander’s wife, and you shall reign over your father’s kingdom. For I now regret that I gave him my daughter, for he has tried to kill me.” He threw blame on Alexander because he coveted his kingdom. So he took his daughter away from him and gave her to Deme′trius. He was estranged from Alexander, and their enmity became manifest. Then Ptol′emy entered Antioch and put on the crown of Asia. Thus he put two crowns upon his head, the crown of Egypt and that of Asia. Now Alexander the king was in Cili′cia at that time, because the people of that region were in revolt. And Alexander heard of it and came against him in battle. Ptol′emy marched out and met him with a strong force, and put him to flight. So Alexander fled into Arabia to find protection there, and King Ptol′emy was exalted. And Zab′diel the Arab cut off the head of Alexander and sent it to Ptol′emy. But King Ptol′emy died three days later, and his troops in the strongholds were killed by the inhabitants of the strongholds. So Deme′trius became king in the one hundred and sixty-seventh year. Jonathan’s Diplomacy In those days Jonathan assembled the men of Judea to attack the citadel in Jerusalem, and he built many engines of war to use against it. But certain lawless men who hated their nation went to the king and reported to him that Jonathan was besieging the citadel. When he heard this he was angry, and as soon as he heard it he set out and came to Ptolema′is; and he wrote Jonathan not to continue the siege, but to meet him for a conference at Ptolema′is as quickly as possible. When Jonathan heard this, he gave orders to continue the siege; and he chose some of the elders of Israel and some of the priests, and put himself in danger, for he went to the king at Ptolema′is, taking silver and gold and clothing and numerous other gifts. And he won his favor. Although certain lawless men of his nation kept making complaints against him, the king treated him as his predecessors had treated him; he exalted him in the presence of all his friends. He confirmed him in the high priesthood and in as many other honors as he had formerly had, and made him to be regarded as one of his chief friends. Then Jonathan asked the king to free Judea and the three districts of Samar′ia from tribute, and promised him three hundred talents. The king consented, and wrote a letter to Jonathan about all these things; its contents were as follows: “King Deme′trius to Jonathan his brother and to the nation of the Jews, greeting. This copy of the letter which we wrote concerning you to Las′thenes our kinsman we have written to you also, so that you may know what it says. ‘King Deme′trius to Las′thenes his father, greeting. To the nation of the Jews, who are our friends and fulfil their obligations to us, we have determined to do good, because of the good will they show toward us. We have confirmed as their possession both the territory of Judea and the three districts of Aphair′ema and Lydda and Rath′amin; the latter, with all the region bordering them, were added to Judea from Samar′ia. To all those who offer sacrifice in Jerusalem, we have granted release from the royal taxes which the king formerly received from them each year, from the crops of the land and the fruit of the trees. And the other payments henceforth due to us of the tithes, and the taxes due to us, and the salt pits and the crown taxes due to us—from all these we shall grant them release. And not one of these grants shall be canceled from this time forth for ever. Now therefore take care to make a copy of this, and let it be given to Jonathan and put up in a conspicuous place

1 Maccabees 11:1–20 records the political shockwave that engulfed Judea after the Maccabean revolt. Alexander Balas had seized the Seleucid throne, but now his own father-in-law Ptolemy VI rises against him. Jonathan, the Maccabean high priest allied with the Seleucids, is suddenly caught in the middle of a power grab. The chapter opens with deceptive 'peaceable words' (v. 2) and closes with two crowns on one head (v. 19). Between those verses, we see warfare, betrayal, broken marriage covenants, and the heavy question: where does God console His people in the meantime?

Narration

Historical Setting: The Hellenistic Power Struggle

After Jonathan the Maccabee had driven out the Seleucid garrison from Jerusalem (1 Maccabees 10), the political chessboard was suddenly rearranged. Alexander Balas, a young man claiming to be the son of Antiochus IV Epiphanes, had been recognized as king of the Seleucid empire with the backing of powerful allies — and Jonathan had given him military support. But Alexander Balas's throne was contested. In 1 Maccabees 11:1–20, a more dangerous rival appears: Ptolemy VI Philometor of Egypt, marching with 'forces like the sand by the seashore' (v. 1). Ptolemy's strategy was deception. He came 'with peaceable words' (v. 2), claiming to be visiting his daughter Cleopatra I, who was Alexander Balas's wife. Cities along the coast opened their gates. Once inside, however, Ptolemy garrisoned them with his own troops. At Azotus (Ashdod), the king saw the wreckage Jonathan had earlier inflicted on the Philistine temple of Dagon (a callback to 1 Maccabees 10:83–85) and was told hostile stories about Jonathan. Yet 'the king kept silent' (v. 4). That silence is theologically loaded: Ptolemy was measuring his options while a faithful servant of God stood in front of him. Jonathan responded with dignified diplomacy. He met the Egyptian king at Joppa with 'pomp' (v. 6) — a public demonstration that he would not cower — then escorted Ptolemy north to the Eleutherus River, the traditional boundary of Phoenicia. He did not surrender his cities; he did not provoke a fight. He acted with restraint in a volatile hour. While Jonathan was escorting Ptolemy, the trap sprung shut. Ptolemy's envoys reached Demetrius II, the son of the deposed Seleucid king Demetrius I, now captive in Rome. Ptolemy offered to 'give [his daughter] in marriage' to Demetrius so that Demetrius could claim Alexander Balas's throne (vv. 9–10). He publicly disowned Alexander as a would-be murderer and married his daughter to his rival. Then, donning the diadem at Antioch, Ptolemy 'put two crowns upon his head, the crown of Egypt and that of Asia' (v. 19). Alexander, in Cilicia, heard the news and marched to meet him. The empire was collapsing into civil war. For the Jewish remnant this was a season of acute suffering. The very alliances on which Jonathan and his brothers had staked their safety were dissolving. Alexander Balas would soon be killed. Demetrius II would briefly reign — and would unleash new persecutions. Yet the chapter ends not in despair but in patient waiting. Out of this crucible would eventually come Simon, the last of the Maccabee brothers, who would secure Judea's fragile independence (1 Maccabees 13–14). The setting is overwhelmingly urban and political: Joppa, Azotus, the Eleutherus River, Antioch, Cilicia. The geography is the coast of the Levant where Jewish communities had lived for centuries, and Jerusalem itself — the city Jonathan had defended — sits just inland from it.

The Spatial Stage: The Eastern Mediterranean Chessboard

Set during the post-exilic period in and around Jerusalem, where the Davidic legacy endures amid foreign domination and faithful Jews wrestle with suffering, prayer, and divine comfort.

What the Passage Means: Where Is Comfort When 'Peaceable Words' Mask Deception?

Three theological threads run through this text and intersect with the theme of suffering and comfort. First, 'peaceable words' are not peace. Verse 2 states that Ptolemy set out 'with peaceable words,' yet verse 3 records that the moment he entered the cities he 'stationed forces as a garrison in each city.' The language is identical to Jesus' warning in John 10:8–10 about thieves who come only to steal and kill. Suffering often arrives disguised as opportunity. For Jonathan, the Egyptian king's pacific overtures were the very vehicle by which Judea was surrounded. The primary biblical comfort here is not a promise that overtures will be genuine; it is the wisdom to discern motives even when language sounds beautiful. The discerning sufferer walks with eyes open (Ephesians 5:15), neither gullible nor cynical, ready to test the spirits (1 John 4:1). Second, silence is not condemnation. 'The king kept silent' when he heard slanders against Jonathan (v. 4). That silence could have spelled Jonathan's death. Instead, the king received him with pomp at Joppa and let him go in peace. There is a quiet, hidden comfort in this: the Lord frequently closes the mouth of the accuser before the accusation lands. Several Psalms bear witness: 'They shall be put to shame who speak lies against the righteous' (Psalm 31:18 LXX, a Greek text well known in Maccabean Judea). Suffering servants of God often find, surprisingly, that their persecutors and slanderers lose their voice. Third, divine providence works through ungodly rulers. Ptolemy, the Egyptian king, was most certainly not a worshipper of the God of Israel. Yet God used his political maneuverings — even his greed and betrayal — to clear the ground for the eventual rise of Simon (1 Maccabees 14), under whose rule Judea would enjoy a brief, almost messianic peace. Here is the deeper comfort: when suffering servants cannot see the shape of history, the Lord is sovereignly orchestrating events and persons, even pagan ones, to bring about a far-future mercy. The same theme animates Genesis 50:20 ('you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good') and Paul's 'all things work together for good' (Romans 8:28). Comfort, therefore, is not the absence of treachery but the assurance that God stands above it. Fourth, faithful presence is itself a comfort. Jonathan personally accompanied Ptolemy to the Eleutherus. He 'went with the king as far as the river' and 'returned to Jerusalem' (vv. 6–7). He did not delegate the burden; he did not hide in Zion. He walked the long road with the powerful stranger, and then walked back to the city he loved. Suffering servants of God are called to faithful presence — to walk alongside those caught in webs of imperial deceit, and to keep returning home to the household of faith. The comfort comes from showing up.

Today: Finding Comfort in Deception, Slander, and Defection

How does a modern reader live inside this chapter when political storms hit their own world? Several applications flow from the text. 1. Learn to recognize the difference between peace-talk and peace. A promise of safety is not safety. Before leaping into any partnership, ask: what are the underlying motives? What is the next step the party has in mind? Discernment is a gift the Spirit gives to those who ask (James 1:5). Suffering servants do not have to be victims of their own gullibility. 2. Do not be defined by what enemies say about you. Ptolemy's courtiers slandered Jonathan (vv. 4–5), and the account preserved the falsehood in Scripture precisely so we could see how it was parried. You will be misrepresented. Your reputation will be attacked in rooms you cannot enter. Take heart: often, the slanderer will lose his breath before the testimony is finished. Your task is not to win every debate, but to live uprightly when the debate is over. 3. Practice faithful presence. Jonathan walked the distance. In an age of digital connection, the embodied act of physically walking with someone through a difficult stretch is increasingly rare and increasingly precious. When friends are trapped in manipulative networks — abusive families, predatory employers, ideological cliques — walking alongside them is the Gospel made visible. 4. Live below the crowns. Ptolemy's boast — 'two crowns upon his head' — is a snapshot of every regime and influencer who believes their power will secure them. They do not. The one true crowned King, Jesus Christ, 'emptied himself, taking the form of a servant' (Philippians 2:7). To be a servant and not a king is the way of lasting comfort, even when the momentary crown seems to rest on others. 5. Rest in providence, not prediction. We cannot tell how the next decade will unfold, any more than Jonathan could predict the next twelve months. We do not need to. The Father 'makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good' and 'sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous' (Matthew 5:45). Comfort does not require us to forecast the future; it requires us to trust the One who holds it.

Reflection

I have always been struck by the calm of verse 6. After slanders and troop movements and shattered alliances, Jonathan 'met the king at Joppa with pomp.' Pomp. Procession. Public visibility. What was he doing? He was refusing to be reduced. After a day when his enemies had spoken loudly about him and his allies had shifted under his feet, he put on the high-priestly garments and walked to the coast to greet a foreign king in the name of his people. In suffering, the temptation is to disappear. To lower your profile. To log off, withdraw, and wait for better weather. Jonathan did the opposite: he stayed visible, dignified, and engaged. He did not retaliate. He did not despair. He showed up. That image — the Maccabee brother in his robes, standing at the harbor of Joppa — is an icon of consolation for every generation that has had to face a more powerful adversary in a darker hour. There is a mystery here that I cannot fully explain. When everything around him was collapsing, Jonathan knew where he belonged. He knew that the city behind him, with its ruined walls and reconsecrated Temple and small but stubborn community, was his true estate. So 'he returned to Jerusalem' (v. 7). He did not stay on the coast with the conquering king. He did not attach himself to the shifting empire. He went home. Perhaps that is the deepest comfort we can carry from this passage: in a season when many things can rightly be called home — a company, a movement, an institution, even a relationship — there is always, beneath them all, one fixed point. The Lord your God. The city of God. The people of God gathered around the Word. Return there. Be received there. Serve there. Let empires rise and empires fall; you have a city that cannot be shaken (Hebrews 12:28). The Maccabees knew it. We know it. Comfort is not a feeling; it is a homecoming.

FAQ

Why did Ptolemy begin with 'peaceable words' yet station garrisons in the cities?

In Hellenistic diplomacy, language was itself a weapon. Ptolemy was not calling on his son-in-law Alexander; he was seizing the coastal corridor into Syria. 'Peaceable words' exist precisely so that gates will be opened; garrisons follow because the prize is the strategic coastline, not the friendship of the inhabitants. The pattern recurs in commerce, in marriage, in church life. Believers need not become cynics, but they must learn the test: when words and actions diverge, the actions are telling the truth.

Why is 'the king kept silent' theologically important for the suffering?

On the surface, the king's silence looks like indifference — slander fills the air and the priest has no opportunity to defend himself. But on a deeper level, a pagan king is restrained by a hidden hand. Slanderers thrive when their accusations are echoed; they falter when silence falls. Many Psalms testify to this pattern (Psalm 31:17–18; 64:8). Comfort often comes not as divine speech but as divine restraint upon the enemy's speech.

How does Jonathan find comfort when he returns to Jerusalem from the Eleutherus?

The text deliberately says 'he returned to Jerusalem.' That short sentence is both geography and theology. Jerusalem is the city of the Temple, of sacrifices, of Torah reading, of psalms sung in the courts. Ptolemy's coast was a setting of unsettled alliances and shifting crowns. Jonathan's soul returned to a deeper, older, more durable location. The Gospel application is direct: when we are exhausted by empire, by politics, by the noise of conflicting powers, we return to the means of grace — to Scripture, to the gathered church, to the Lord's Supper, to the prayer closet. There the Lord quiets the storms inside us, even while storms still rage outside.

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