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2 Samuel
2 Samuel 20 — A new revolt, a brutal murder, and a wise woman who saved a city
7 min read
was barely holding together. He'd just survived Absalom's full-scale rebellion, the nation was bitterly divided between north and south, and the victory march home had already turned into a shouting match about who was more loyal. The ashes of one civil war were still warm — and someone was about to light the next fire.
What happens in this chapter is fast, brutal, and surprisingly political. A new rebel rallies the northern tribes. Joab commits another cold-blooded murder. And an unnamed woman does what none of the generals could do — she ends the whole crisis with a single conversation.
Right there — while the tribes were still arguing about who owned — a man named Sheba saw his opportunity. He was a Benjaminite, from old tribe, and he had a trumpet and a slogan:
"We have no share in ! We have no stake in Jesse's son! Everyone — go home, !"
And just like that, the northern tribes walked away. All of them. They'd been simmering since the argument at the , and Sheba gave them the excuse they needed. One sentence, one trumpet blast, and the fractured again.
Only stayed. They followed their king all the way from the back to .
Think about how fast loyalty can evaporate. One charismatic voice, one catchy grievance, and a crowd that was celebrating together five minutes ago splits right down the middle. It didn't take an army to divide . It took a slogan. That's true in politics, in churches, in families. The person who names the grievance controls the crowd.
arrived back at the palace in . And one of the first things he dealt with was the ten concubines — the women he'd left behind to care for the house, the ones Absalom had publicly violated as a political statement during the coup.
took the ten women and placed them in a house under guard. He provided for them, but never went to them again. They lived the rest of their lives in isolation — cared for, but essentially widows.
This is one of those moments where the text doesn't editorialize, and neither should we. These women didn't choose any of this. They didn't choose to be left behind. They didn't choose what Absalom did to them. And now they lived out their days in a kind of permanent seclusion. The consequences of other people's landed squarely on them. It's heavy. And the Bible doesn't flinch from showing it.
needed to move fast. Sheba's rebellion was gaining momentum, and every day he waited was another day for it to solidify. So he turned to Amasa — the man he'd just appointed as his new military commander, replacing Joab:
told Amasa, "Assemble the men of and report back to me within three days. And be here yourself."
Amasa went out to gather the troops. But he missed the deadline.
The text doesn't tell us why. Maybe the men of were reluctant after Absalom's war. Maybe Amasa wasn't the kind of leader who could rally people quickly. Either way, the clock was ticking and couldn't wait.
So turned to Abishai — Joab's brother — and gave the order directly:
"Sheba is going to cause us more damage than Absalom ever did. Take my soldiers and go after him before he reaches a fortified city and escapes."
Abishai took Joab's men, the Cherethites and Pelethites — the royal bodyguard — and all the elite warriors. They marched out of to hunt Sheba down.
Notice who's not officially in charge. gave the command to Abishai. Not Joab. That distinction matters for what happens next.
The pursuit force reached the great stone at Gibeon, and that's where Amasa finally caught up with them. He'd been out gathering troops — late, but he showed up.
Joab was wearing a soldier's uniform with a belt and sword strapped to his thigh. As he stepped forward, the sword slipped from its sheath — almost like an accident. Almost.
Then Joab reached out to Amasa:
"How are you, brother?"
Joab grabbed Amasa's beard with his right hand as if to greet him with a kiss. Amasa never saw the sword in Joab's other hand. Joab drove it into his stomach. One strike. Amasa's insides spilled onto the ground, and he was dead.
No hesitation. No second blow needed. Joab had done this before — he'd killed Abner the same way, years ago, with the same fake greeting. Same calculated warmth masking lethal intent.
Then Joab and Abishai simply kept moving, continuing the pursuit of Sheba as if nothing had happened.
One of Joab's soldiers stood over Amasa's body and shouted:
"If you're for Joab and for — follow Joab!"
But there was a problem. Amasa lay dying in the middle of the road, and every soldier who passed by stopped and stared. The march ground to a halt. So the soldier dragged Amasa's body off the road into a field and threw a garment over him. Once the body was out of sight, the troops moved on.
There's something deeply disturbing about this. Joab murdered the man chose to replace him, and then everyone just... kept following Joab. Nobody stopped to ask whether this was right. Nobody held him accountable. They covered the body and moved on. Sometimes the most dangerous person in any organization isn't the outsider causing trouble — it's the insider who refuses to let go of power.
Meanwhile, Sheba had been traveling through all the tribes of , trying to build his coalition. He ended up in Abel of Beth-maacah, a city in the far north, where his clan — the Bichrites — gathered around him.
Joab's army arrived and laid siege:
They surrounded Abel of Beth-maacah, built a siege ramp against the outer wall, and started battering it down.
An entire city was about to be destroyed because one man had taken refuge inside it. Every family in Abel was now in the crossfire of someone else's rebellion.
And then — out of nowhere — a voice from the city wall. Not a general. Not a politician. A wise woman. She didn't have a title. She had something better: clarity.
She called out:
"Listen! Listen! Tell Joab to come here. I need to speak with him."
Joab came closer. She confirmed who she was talking to:
"Are you Joab?"
He answered:
"I am."
She said:
"Listen to what I have to say."
He said:
"I'm listening."
Then she made her case — and she made it brilliantly:
"There's an old saying: 'If you need , go ask at Abel.' We settle things here. I am one of the peaceable and in . You're about to destroy a city that is a mother in . Why would you swallow up the of the Lord?"
Joab responded immediately:
"Absolutely not — I have no desire to swallow up or destroy anything. That's not what this is about. A man from the hill country of Ephraim named Sheba son of Bichri has raised his hand against King . Hand him over, and I'll leave the city alone."
The woman didn't hesitate:
"His head will be thrown over the wall to you."
She went back to the people and persuaded them. They cut off Sheba's head and threw it over the wall. Joab blew the trumpet, the army dispersed, and everyone went home. Joab returned to to report to the king.
Think about what just happened. Generals and armies and siege ramps and battering rams — and a woman with no official authority ended the entire conflict in a five-minute conversation. She didn't beg. She didn't panic. She identified the actual problem, proposed the surgical solution, and executed it. While men were destroying walls, she used words. That's not weakness. That's the most effective leadership in the entire chapter.
The chapter closes with a quiet roster — government officials after the dust settled:
Joab was over the entire army of . Benaiah son of Jehoiada commanded the Cherethites and Pelethites. Adoram was in charge of forced labor. Jehoshaphat son of Ahilud was the official recorder. Sheva was secretary. Zadok and Abiathar served as . And Ira the Jairite served as personal .
Notice the name at the top of the list. After everything — after murdering Abner, after murdering Amasa, after being fired and replaced — Joab was still in command. couldn't remove him. Wouldn't remove him. The man who kept killing to protect his position never lost his position.
Sometimes the most unsettling thing about a story isn't the violence. It's who's still standing at the end.
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