Post By King Zedekiah of Judah-
The weight of a crown is far greater than its golden shimmer. I know this now, though too late. My name is Zedekiah, the last king of Judah, set upon the throne not by divine appointment nor the will of my people, but by the hand of a foreign ruler—Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylon. My reign began in chains of obligation and ended in chains of iron. Today, I write not as a king, but as a broken man—blinded, dethroned, and haunted by the echoes of my mistakes.
I ruled over Jerusalem for eleven years, eleven years of struggle, of indecision, of divided loyalties. I was placed on the throne after my nephew, Jehoiachin, surrendered to Babylon’s might. Nebuchadnezzar saw in me a man who could be controlled. He made me his vassal, swearing me to an oath of fealty in the name of my God. And for a time, I obeyed. But a man does not easily serve two masters—especially when one is the God of Israel and the other is a heathen king.
I was weak. I was afraid. I did not listen to the warnings of the prophet Jeremiah, who pleaded with me to submit to Babylon and spare my people. Instead, I was swayed by the whispers of my nobles, my warriors, and the kings of Egypt who promised aid should I rebel. I convinced myself that I could reclaim our sovereignty and that God would not let His holy city fall. And so, in my ninth year as king, I cast aside my oath and defied Nebuchadnezzar.
Jerusalem was besieged. Yet I held onto a fleeting hope that salvation would come—that God would deliver us as He had in the days of Hezekiah.
But the walls crumbled. The enemy poured in.
I fled. Under the cover of darkness, I abandoned my city, my people, and my throne—fleeing through a breach in the wall like a common criminal. Yet I did not outrun my fate. Near Jericho, the Babylonians overtook me. I was dragged before Nebuchadnezzar in Riblah, and there, my punishment was sealed.
They brought my sons before me. One by one, they were slaughtered. Their cries were the last sight my eyes would ever behold. Before they killed my son Mulek, they took a blade and robbed me of my sight. I was grateful not to witness his death.
Blinded. Bound. I was Led away to Babylon in shackles.
This is how my story ends. This is how the House of David is humbled. I could blame my advisors, the false prophets who flattered me, the nations that abandoned me. But in truth, my downfall was my own making. I did not listen. I did not obey. I thought I could defy Babylon, yet I was truly defying the will of my own God.
Now, I sit in darkness, my kingdom lost, my family slain, and my name forever tied to the destruction of Jerusalem. But if these words are ever read, let them be a warning: A king’s strength is not in his armies, nor his alliances, nor his pride. It is in his obedience to the One who grants kingdoms and takes them away.
May the God of Israel have mercy on me, and on my broken people.
2 Kings 24:17-20
1 Nephi 1:4
Chronicles 36:11-13
Jeremiah 39:4-7. 52:7-11
