The Rise and Fall of King Solomon
September 28, 2025 - Rev. Dr. Jan Remer-Osborn

Walking the ancient, cobbled streets of Rome and Florence these past two weeks, I was struck by the grandeur of their history — the monuments, palaces, and cathedrals that tell the stories of rulers and dynasties. In Rome, the Colosseum and the ruins of the Forum still echo of emperors who once commanded armies and governed vast lands, only to see their power crumble with time. In Florence, the Medici family left a legacy of art, architecture, and wealth — yet even their dynasty rose and fell, subject to the same cycles of power and decline that mark human history.
Standing in those places, I could not help but think of King Solomon. Like the emperors of Rome and the rulers of Florence, Solomon’s reign was marked by extraordinary wealth, wisdom, and glory. The Temple he built was a wonder of the ancient world. His court overflowed with riches and alliances. Nations came to marvel at his wisdom. And yet, as with Rome and Florence, his dynasty did not endure. His wealth could not save him from decline; his wisdom could not prevent division; his legacy, though grand, was fragile.
This is where the story touches us. Solomon’s reign was magnificent, yes, but also deeply human. He wanted to please God, and he wanted to please himself. Like us, yes? He sought to lead with justice, but he also built a kingdom on the backs of conscripted labor. He loved God, but he also loved alliances, wives, and wealth. His story asks us: what do we do with our gifts? How do we use wisdom, privilege, or success — for ourselves, or for the betterment of God’s people?
And this is not just about kings in the ancient world. We still live in a culture of dynasties, of wealth and power that rise and fall. Some leaders — political, economic, even spiritual — live as if they are untouchable, beyond critique. But Solomon teaches us that even the wisest among us can fall into a kind of “god complex,” where success blinds us to our limits. The lesson is clear: human kingdoms rise and fall, but the kingdom of God endures.
So what, then, is the good life. La dolce vita? Good life, Jesus tells us, is not found in possessions or power, but in abundance of another kind. “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). This is not the tenuous abundance of Solomon or the Medici — it is the durable abundance of God.
And here is where the gospel surprises us. Solomon, for all his glory, is not the model of the abundant life. It is Jesus, who chose service over status, humility over grandeur, the cross over the throne. Jesus embodies the wisdom Solomon could only glimpse: that true life is given away, not hoarded. That true power is love poured out, not control enforced. We hear the call of Christ, who offers us something different: not a kingdom of marble and gold, but a kingdom of mercy and justice. This kingdom will not crumble. This abundance cannot be lost. That life is offered to you and me today.
Underneath the opulence of St. Peter’s Basilica lies Peter’s tomb. It is in the Necropolis, a now underground graveyard of Christians and non-Christians alike. It is a dark, humid place with narrow walkways. Dare I say it, it was creepy. Near the end of the tour were St Peter’s bones. There were twelve of us there, some weeping, others praying. I did both. Yet what came to mind was Peter alive at the Transfiguration mountaintop, suggesting in his typical outspoken way, that they build three dwellings for the prophets. He was a fallible man, the first to call Jesus the Messiah, yet the one who denied him three times.
So, the question for us is this: Do we want to take after Solomon or Peter, two different human beings. Let us be strengthened by the example of Peter, crucified upside down at his request we are told by so as not to put himself on par with Christ. It hit me hard, being in the plaza where Peter walked his last steps, where he gave up his life for Jesus. Peter is a hard act to follow. May we choose, every day, to live for Jesus, in ways that may seem insignificant but will reflect the abundant life Jesus has given us. Amen.
