2 Samuel 20: The Inner Siege of Division and Wisdom

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Quick Insights

A sudden trumpet of dissent represents an identity that proclaims separation, slicing the psyche into loyal and rebellious camps.
The chase and killing of Amasa shows how haste, identification with strategy, and violent self-judgment maim parts of the self that were meant to gather the community.
The siege and the appearance of the wise woman demonstrate that imagination and story can negotiate an ending that logic and force could not achieve.
The final removal of the rebel's head and the return to the tent life symbolize the usable power of imagination to excise a disempowering belief and restore inner order.

What is the Main Point of 2 Samuel 20?

This chapter, read as inner theater, centers on how declarations of separation spawn collective inner revolt, how aggressive corrective impulses can wound vital organizing parts, and how a focused, imaginative voice of wisdom can reframe and terminate a destructive inner story, producing visible reconciliation and reordered governance within the psyche.

What is the Spiritual Meaning of 2 Samuel 20?

The trumpet that cries 'we have no part in David' is the moment a thought declares itself independent from the ruling self. Consciousness splits: one sector clings to the recognized center and another, fed by grievance or imagined lack, rallies under a charismatic notion of freedom. That split creates camps of attention, each believing its identity-defining story. The psychological drama is not about external armies but about what you listen to, whom you follow, and which narrative you feed with attention. When the pursuit mobilizes, it is the will to reclaim unity. But strength without discernment injures. Amasa, the gatherer delayed, is cut down by a hand that mistakes him for the enemy, showing how corrective intent can destroy a mediator if it is not aligned with inner wisdom. This wound is the cost of reactive force: parts intended to serve order are sacrificed when leadership acts from fear or assumption rather than from full presence. The visible blood and stalling of the crowd are the shock that forces the system to feel the consequence of its own violence. The siege on the city and the bank raised against the wall are pressure points of sustained attention around a stubborn belief. When battering fails, the wise woman appears—not as mere cleverness but as the voice that remembers communal identity and the ancient habit of seeking counsel. She speaks a new script that reframes the conflict, offering a nonviolent solution that preserves the city and yields a decisive symbolic removal of the rebel thought. The act of cutting off the head is an imaginal excision: a bold end to a claim of separation, made tangible by communal assent. The trumpet blown at the end signals the restoration of ordered attention, the retreat of faction, and the reestablishment of inner governance.

Key Symbols Decoded

Sheba, the rebel who blows the trumpet, is the imaginal belief that announces independence from the central self; his cry gathers other fragmented identifications into a movement. The split between Judah and Israel pictures the loyal center versus the wandering, rebellious aspects that will follow a persuasive idea. The ten concubines shut up and left to live as widows represent neglected inner resources—parts of feeling and care that are fenced off when identity fractures and later die emotionally if not reclaimed. Joab's sudden killing of Amasa decodes into the psyche's tendency to eliminate mediators when it confuses quick tactical answers with true resolution; Amasa is the diplomatic function that delays to gather, and his death marks the loss of measured integration. The wise woman of the city embodies the contemplative, narrative-rewriting faculty that can appeal to shared memory and identity to end conflict; cutting off the rebel's head is the imaginal completion of a belief, made palpable by communal agreement. The final listing of officers and priests is the restoration of inner administration—functions aligned and named so the whole can operate without factional rupture.

Practical Application

Begin as if you are watching an inner drama: notice the trumpet of dissent—the thought that declares, loudly and simply, that you are not what you have always known yourself to be. Rather than react with force, imagine sending a mediator to assemble the parts; see that mediator delayed, and feel the danger in rushing. If you recognize an impulse to 'fix' by striking out a part, pause and allow the wise woman within to speak—invoke an inner voice that remembers continuity, peace, and the collective identity of your self. Speak a short imaginative sentence that reclaims the rebel by naming it and then finishing it: see its head as the symbolic completion of that claim, not as annihilation but as an end to its authority. Practically, at night before sleep rehearse a brief scenario: hear the trumpet, picture the chase, witness the damage caused by impulsive force, and then invite the wise woman who negotiates the peaceful remedy—visualize the city siding with her counsel and the rebel being removed. Wake with the feeling that governance has returned; assign in imagination the roles you wish for your inner leaders so that attention, memory, feeling, and will are named and respectfully tasked. Repeating this imaginal conclusion trains the mind to resolve rebellions from creative narrative rather than reactive violence, and it heals those parts that had been shut away by reclaiming them with compassion and renewed purpose.

The Revolt at Abel: Rebellion, Retribution, and a Woman's Wisdom

Read as a psychological drama, 2 Samuel 20 becomes an intricate map of inner conflict, the movement of moods, and the creative force of imagination shaping what appears to be outer reality. The chapter stages a civil war inside consciousness: voices of rebellion, loyal centers, bungled mediation, rash violence, and finally the salvific intervention of a wise feminine intelligence that uses speech and image to dissolve the mutiny. Each character and scene represents states of mind and operations of imagination rather than historical actors and events.

The opening thrust — Sheba the son of Bichri, called a man of Belial, blowing a trumpet and declaring 'we have no part in David' — names a disruptive inner voice that claims separation from the governing center. Belial, worthlessness or lawlessness, is that mood which repudiates authority and refuses to acknowledge integration. The trumpet is a public act of identity: an imaginal proclamation that defines itself and summons followers. In waking life this is the moment when a resentful idea rises and broadcasts, 'I will not accept the ruling self' — the part of you that previously accepted a centered, sovereign identity.

The split is mapped as Israel fragmenting from Judah. Take these as two psychic provinces: the northern coalition of impulsive, scattered identifications that fracture away from the kingly center, and Judah as the loyal heart that remains aligned with the inner throne. When 'every man of Israel went up from after David' but 'the men of Judah clave unto their king', we see the perennial inner tug-of-war: parts of you chasing reactive separations while other parts remain faithful to the integrative mood. The drama reveals that rebellion always issues from an identity that feels neglected, entitled, or wounded; it proposes an alternative to the central governing assumption.

David's return to Jerusalem and his action to detain his concubines, placing them in widowhood and not going in unto them, is rich with psychological meaning. Concubines are withdrawn creative and relational faculties — sensuality, intimacy, and the willing surrender that integrates different aspects of being. To shut them up is to place important faculties into a state of mourning, a deprivation born of public humiliation or internal exile. This action shows how political or moral crises within consciousness lead to the sequestration of inner resources: instead of relating with them, the self protects, encloses, and mourns the loss of relational wholeness.

David’s command to Amasa to assemble the men of Judah within three days introduces timing, responsiveness, and leadership integrity. Amasa’s delay is the psychology of procrastination or distractedness in the face of urgent integrative work. When the opportunity to marshal loyal forces toward reconciliation is lost through inattention, other forces move in. Joab’s reaction — to assemble his men and pursue Sheba — expresses an older, more violent strategy of the psyche: swift suppression rather than patient negotiation. The inner warrior who acts impulsively believes that force can restore unity. The detail of the sword falling from Joab’s girdle and Joab greeting Amasa with a false kiss before slaying him embodies the motif of betrayal cloaked as affection; it dramatizes how the aggressive self can use the language of intimacy to eliminate the possibility of a conciliatory authority taking hold.

Amasa’s murder is especially telling: a potential peacemaker, late to arrive, is killed by a jealous, established agent. Psychologically, this is the destruction of a reconciliatory function by the jealous ego that fears being superseded. Trusting displays — the beard, the kiss — obscure the latent weapon. The visceral image of Amasa’s innards spilled on the road and a cloth cast over him indicates how the psyche hides dead functions to move forward: we cover what we have killed and press on, often numbed to what was lost.

The pursuit of Sheba into the towns and ultimately the siege of Abel of Beth-maachah unfolds as focused imaginative pressure against an entrenched belief system. 'Casting up a bank against the city' and battering the wall is the deliberate use of sustained imaginary attention to break down a defensive idea. When the outer mind gathers its energies, it can batter the defences that protect an unwanted piece of psyche. This is not merely physical siege; it is the concentrated will that pries open a resistant mode of consciousness.

Then the wise woman of Abel appears. She steps forward as the inner feminine intelligence, the voice of counsel and tradition, who remembers 'they shall surely ask counsel at Abel.' She invokes the old way of seeking judgment within the community — she calls up an imagined precedent that summons the group to consult rather than obliterate. The woman's speech is the most important psychodynamic event here: through carefully chosen words she reframes the threat and offers a ritual exit. She negotiates: give us the head of Sheba and the city will be spared. Her power is not brute force but narrative management. She reorganizes the collective imagination so that everyone can participate in a symbolic act of closure.

Cutting off Sheba's head and casting it over the wall is a dramatic imaginal resolution. It externalizes the traitor-identity and makes it visible to the central self. The community’s acceptance of this gesture shows how groups, and within us the plural voices, often require a concrete image of the defeated aspect in order to believe the rebellion is over. This is how imagination permits transformation: the production and projection of an image — the head — satisfies the symbolic hunger for a resolved story. Once the symbolic requirement is met, the combatants 'blew a trumpet, and they retired from the city, every man to his tent.' The trumpet now signals the end of the mutiny; men return to their tents — they re-enter their respective stations in the psyche. The fact that the head was thrown to Joab and that Joab returned to the king points to the reintegration of authority: the rebellious impulse has been neutralized in a way that re-legitimizes the central mood.

The final listing of officers and scribes — Benaiah, Adoram, Jehoshaphat, Zadok, Abiathar, Ira — represents the reestablishment of interior order: the warrior function, the steward of resources, the recorder of memory, the priestly conscience, the executive aide. After civil conflict, the psyche must reassign roles to maintain stability. This administrative epilogue invites the reader to recognize that inner peace requires structural recalibration. It also implies that imagination, once disciplined and directed, can restore roles that were displaced by rebellion.

Two cautionary lessons rise from this reading. First, rash, violent suppression — Joab’s murdering of Amasa, the betrayal disguised by a kiss — is the psyche’s primitive attempt to preserve dominance. It may stop the immediate threat but at the cost of killing peacemaking capacities and leaving blood on the road. The second, more hopeful, lesson is that speech and imaginative ritual can dissolve rebellion without wholesale destruction. The wise woman’s solution spared a city because she created a credible story and an image that satisfied collective need. Words, invoked images, and the mood they carry can reframe a mutiny into an ending that allows people — inner parts — to return home.

Practically applied, the chapter teaches the practitioner of inner work to notice what trumpet is being blown in the mind. Which voice insists on separation? Which delayed Amasa in you is costing a chance at healing? Where have you put creative parts into widowhood? The creative power operating within consciousness is not passive; it is endlessly dramatizing identity through image, speech, and mood. Mastery consists in choosing the mood that leads to integration — not through coercion, but through authoritative, imaginative acts: a decisive inner declaration, a contained image that resolves the story, and the wise, persuasive narrative that brings rebellious parts back into relation. In this way 2 Samuel 20 is less a chronicle of political violence and more a manual for how imagination creates and transforms interior reality.

Common Questions About 2 Samuel 20

How does Neville Goddard interpret the rebellion of Sheba in 2 Samuel 20?

Neville Goddard would point to Sheba not as a mere historical insurgent but as the outward expression of an inner state of consciousness that denies allegiance to the true self; David represents the divine imagination and rightful assumption of kingship, while Sheba is the separated sense insisting on independence. The episode shows how a thought or assumption, once voiced, rallies others and appears as a tangible rebellion until the ruling consciousness reasserts itself. Joab’s brutal remedy and the wise woman’s negotiation illustrate two ways the imagination deals with revolt: forceful overthrow or wise persuasion. Read as inner drama, the lesson is to assume loyalty to the higher self until outer events conform.

How can I apply Neville's law of assumption to David's journey in 2 Samuel 20?

Apply the law of assumption by dwelling in the fulfilled state David embodies when his kingdom is whole: feel yourself already returned to peaceful rule, accepted by Judah and all tribes, and reconciled within. Imagine the scene of arrival at Jerusalem, the household restored, and the inner concubines symbolizing neglected parts of the self comforted and made whole; persist in that assumption until the outer changes follow. In practical terms, enter the state nightly, living from the end—secure, forgiven, sovereign—and carry the feeling through your day. Neville would encourage assuming the feeling of the wish fulfilled so the imagination reshapes facts to match that inner reality.

What manifestation lessons can Bible students take from Joab and Amasa in 2 Samuel 20?

Joab and Amasa teach that the state you assume within is the authority you will outwardly manifest: Joab’s readiness and decisive action springs from an assumed position of command, whereas Amasa’s delay and lack of heed show how hesitation in imagination weakens outcome. Manifestation requires clarity of identity and promptness of feeling; if you imagine yourself as the loyal, decisive ruler, circumstances align, but vacillation invites loss. The moral is inward first: assume the end — peace, unity, authority — and act from that felt reality. Beware aggressive imaginings that harm others; the wise woman shows resolution can come through inner wisdom rather than violence (2 Samuel 20).

Is there a Neville Goddard–style guided visualization based on 2 Samuel 20 to resolve inner conflict?

Yes; begin by relaxing and settling into a quiet state, then imagine yourself as David returning to a peaceful Jerusalem, feeling the crown of authority and the calm warmth of acceptance; as you walk the streets, see the figure of Sheba as a smaller, frightened part of yourself and the wise woman stepping forward to speak. Hear the woman offer a wise solution, the rebellion laid down and a head returning to its place symbolically, and feel the relief wash through your body. Repeat the scene until the feeling of unity and resolved authority is automatic; live each day from that assumed state and expect external reconciliation to follow.

How can the events of 2 Samuel 20 be used as daily imagination exercises for reconciliation and authority?

Use the chapter as a template for short daily imaginal practices: each morning assume the state of David—sovereign, calm, beloved—and hold that feeling while visualizing any internal Sheba that resists; invite the wise woman to speak, offering a peaceful resolution that preserves inheritance and dignity. Imagine the rebel’s head of hostility laid down and the city restored, feeling gratitude and the settled authority in your body. Rehearse specific reconciliations with people as scenes already accomplished, not future hopes, and end with a quiet sense of having been heard and having acted from wisdom; persist until your outer world mirrors this inner settlement.

What symbolic meaning does the 'wise woman of Abel' hold according to Neville-style consciousness teaching?

The wise woman of Abel symbolizes the reconciler within imagination, the soft but sovereign faculty that negotiates between warring states of mind; she represents maternal wisdom that speaks peace into destructive conflict and restores inheritance that belongs to the Lord, or the divine Self. Where Joab’s sword is external force, the woman’s voice is inner discernment that unites a city by revealing a solution acceptable to all. In practice she is the inner counselor who steers one away from violent imaginings and toward creative, peaceable endings; cultivate her voice by listening for calm counsel in the theater of your imagination and acting from that centered place.