In 2 Kings 22 we’re drawn into one of the most pivotal moments in Judah’s story, where a young king’s devotion opens the door to a rediscovery of his people’s deepest heritage. Josiah is only sixteen when he begins to reign, yet within a few years his concern for the house of the Lord sets in motion changes that will echo far beyond his own lifetime. When he turns his attention to the neglected temple in Jerusalem, he sees that decades of neglect have left its walls cracked, its doors rotting, and its vessels worn by time. The bronze Sea, the shelving for burnt offerings, even the golden lampstands—all stand in need of repair if the sanctuary is to honor the God of Israel as it once did.
Josiah doesn’t act impulsively. He summons Hilkiah the high priest and asks him to oversee the restoration work, calling in skilled carpenters, masons, and artisans. As they clear the rubble and replace worn-out beams, Hilkiah’s team discovers an unexpected treasure—a scroll of ancient writing, tucked away in the corner of the inner sanctuary. When Hilkiah reads the document, it becomes clear that this is the lost book of the Law, a record of commands and covenants that had been all but forgotten in Judah’s backsliding. The words leap off the page and into the present moment, revealing just how far the people have strayed from the statutes handed down by Moses.
The discovery shakes Josiah to his core. When Shaphan the scribe brings him the scroll and reads its contents aloud, the king’s heart pounds with conviction. He tears his royal robes in an act of mourning, recognizing that his nation stands guilty of failing to keep the covenant. It’s as if the words of the Law have become a mirror reflecting not only ancient commands but the very condition of the people’s hearts. Josiah realizes that he cannot lead them forward until first he turns them back to the God who has always called them to righteousness.
In that moment of crisis, Josiah reaches out for guidance. He sends emissaries to Huldah the prophetess, who lives beyond Jerusalem’s eastern gate. When she receives the men, she speaks with the authority of one who hears the living God. She confirms the doom that the scroll predicts—that the land will suffer exile and destruction because of its unfaithfulness—but she also holds out a word of mercy. Because Josiah’s heart has been tender, and because he has humbled himself before the Lord, the disaster will not come in his days but will spare him the sorrow of witnessing his people’s downfall.
Josiah returns to Jerusalem with Huldah’s message ringing in his ears, and he summons the entire community—priests, Levites, and all Israel, from the greatest to the least. We can imagine the hush that falls as the scroll is read once again, not just by Shaphan but by the people themselves, each tribe leaning in to hear words that had been hidden for so long. Walking through the streets that echo with daily commerce and political chatter, they feel the weight and wonder of a living document that now binds their future to their past.
With the Law restored to its rightful place, Josiah leads the nation in a solemn covenant renewal. He gathers offerings from the people—shekels of silver, goats for sacrifice, young bulls—and they enter into a binding agreement to follow the terms laid out in the scroll. In that ritual, power flows from the pages of ancient statutes into the hearts of a people who choose to stand together under the banner of God’s word. The sense of unity that rises in Jerusalem is not born of military triumph or royal decree, but of a shared commitment to live by laws that transcend any single lifetime.
The reformation does not stop there. Josiah orders the removal of every high place, every shrine to foreign deities, and every carved image throughout Judah and Benjamin. He dispatches his men to tear down the altars of Baal, to cut down Asherah poles, and to desecrate the worship sites that had tempted his people for generations. The valley of Hinnom, where child sacrifice once stained the land, is cleansed. And all Judah celebrates the Passover festival in a way that has not been seen since the days of Joshua—without ritual shortcuts, without borrowed forms, but with every provision the Law requires. The temple overflows with worshipers, the Levites lead the praises, and the voice of thanksgiving rises like incense across the city.
As we follow Josiah through 2 Kings 22, we sense how a single scroll, rediscovered in a time of neglect, can become the catalyst for a national turnaround. We see how leadership grounded in humility—tearing one’s clothes, seeking prophetic counsel, binding the people in covenant—can unleash revival. And we learn that renewal is never complete until the words that once shaped a people’s identity are heard again in every corner of their lives.
For us today, the chapter offers a living reminder: when the threads of our traditions lie dusty on the shelves, there is grace to bring them back into vibrant use. When our own walls show cracks, it is not enough to patch the stones; we must revisit the foundations on which we build. And when the mad rush of modern life drowns out ancient truths, a willingness to listen—like Josiah turning his ear to the scroll—can open a way for renewed faith. In that spirit, we carry forward the message that God’s word, once found, becomes a lamp to our feet and a light to our path, guiding us into days of promise and hope.