From Hezekiah to Mayhem: What Happened to Manasseh?

Reading 2 Chronicles 32 and 33, I found myself puzzled by a jarring contrast: how did Manasseh, son of the faithful King Hezekiah, become one of the most violent and idolatrous rulers in Judah's history? His father had resisted the powerful Assyrian empire with a mix of confidence and humility, even inspiring his people with words like, "Be strong and courageous! Don’t be afraid or discouraged because of the king of Assyria or his mighty army, for there is a power far greater on our side!" (2 Chronicles 32:7, NLT). Hezekiah seemed deeply committed to reform and religious devotion. And yet, his son immediately undoes all of it.

Rebellion or Reaction? Manasseh’s Wild Turn

Manasseh doesn't just take a different path—he actively reverses everything. He rebuilds pagan shrines, worships the stars, and even sacrifices his own sons in the fire (2 Chronicles 33:6). It’s hard to reconcile this level of brutality and disregard with the environment he presumably grew up in. Did Hezekiah's intense focus on reform leave blind spots at home? Was Manasseh reacting against something he saw in his father’s rule?

There’s something here that feels uncomfortably familiar. History and psychology are full of examples of children who rebel against the ideals or strictures of their parents. Sometimes it’s a desire for autonomy, sometimes a reaction to perceived hypocrisy, and sometimes it's just the randomness of personality. But whatever the cause, Manasseh’s story invites questions about influence and identity.

Lessons Not Learned—or Never Taught?

One possibility is that Hezekiah, for all his accomplishments, may not have passed on his values in a way that stuck. It also seems worth noting that Hezekiah's story ends with a moment of inward-looking comfort: after a serious illness, he is healed and seems to spend his final years focused on personal well-being. There’s no mention of him mentoring Manasseh, preparing him for leadership, or even sharing the struggles of his reign. Maybe there was a gap there that mattered more than the grandeur of Hezekiah's achievements.

Power Without Training Wheels

Another angle is that power, especially inherited power, reveals something deeper. Manasseh was only twelve when he became king. He may have had immense authority before he had any meaningful guidance. Was he simply overwhelmed? Or did the absence of external checks allow him to indulge darker tendencies that were always there?

Of course, the story takes a turn later, when Manasseh is captured by Assyria and imprisoned. In that moment of distress, he humbles himself and changes course. But the legacy of his earlier reign is immense, and the damage is difficult to reverse.

What I find most complicated about Manasseh is not his evil, but his transformation. If someone can go that far astray and still change, what does that say about how we define people? And what does it say about how we judge the effectiveness of a parent, a leader, or a life?