2 Samuel 20:4-13

The Pragmatism of the Sword: A Kiss in Gibeon Text: 2 Samuel 20:4-13

Introduction: The Unraveling Kingdom

We are in the turbulent aftermath of Absalom's rebellion. The civil war is over, the usurper is dead, and David is making his slow, painful way back to Jerusalem. But the kingdom is not healed. It is a body politic full of festering wounds, bruised pride, and tribal jealousies. The conflict between Judah and the northern tribes, which had been papered over by David's charisma, is now raw and exposed. And as is always the case when a nation's foundations are shaken, the men of Belial, the worthless opportunists, see their chance.

In this chapter, we see the consequences of David's compromised moral authority. His great sin with Bathsheba and the subsequent murder of Uriah did not just affect his family; it hamstrung his kingship. He is forgiven by God, yes, but the consequences of his actions continue to ripple outward, creating instability and disorder. A king who should be decisive is now given to sentimentality. A throne that should be secure is threatened by every ambitious upstart. And into this power vacuum steps the man who has always been David's grim necessity: Joab.

This passage is a hard lesson in political realism. It is a story of a weak king, a slow general, and a ruthless operator. It is about the clash between a policy of sentimental reconciliation and the demands of brutal, on the ground necessity. We see a murder that is both a shocking act of personal treachery and a cold, calculated move to consolidate power and deal with a national emergency. This is not a clean story. The history of redemption is written through the lives of broken, sinful men. But it is in this very mess, in this tangle of ambition, loyalty, and bloodshed, that God's sovereign purpose for the throne of David continues its inexorable advance.


The Text

Then the king said to Amasa, "Call out the men of Judah for me within three days, and you yourself stand here." So Amasa went to call out the men of Judah, but he delayed longer than the set time which he had appointed him. And David said to Abishai, "Now Sheba the son of Bichri will do us more harm than Absalom; take your lord's servants and pursue him, lest he find for himself fortified cities and deliver himself from our sight." So Joab's men pursued him, along with the Cherethites and the Pelethites and all the mighty men; and they went out from Jerusalem to pursue Sheba the son of Bichri. They were at the large stone which is in Gibeon, and Amasa came to meet them. Now Joab was dressed in his military attire, and over it was a belt with a sword in its sheath fastened at his waist; and as he came out, it fell out. Then Joab said to Amasa, "Is it well with you, my brother?" And Joab took Amasa by the beard with his right hand to kiss him. But Amasa was not on guard against the sword which was in Joab's hand so he struck him in the belly with it and poured out his inward parts on the ground, and did not strike him again, and he died. Then Joab and Abishai his brother pursued Sheba the son of Bichri. Now there stood by him one of a Joab's young men, and said, "Whoever delights in Joab and whoever is for David, let him follow Joab." But Amasa lay wallowing in his blood in the middle of the highway. And the man saw that all the people stood still. So he removed Amasa from the highway into the field and threw a garment over him when he saw that everyone who came by him stood still. As soon as he was removed from the highway, all the men passed on after Joab to pursue Sheba the son of Bichri.
(2 Samuel 20:4-13 LSB)

A Sentimental Appointment (vv. 4-5)

We begin with David's attempt to consolidate his kingdom through a strategic, but ultimately foolish, act of mercy.

"Then the king said to Amasa, 'Call out the men of Judah for me within three days, and you yourself stand here.' So Amasa went to call out the men of Judah, but he delayed longer than the set time which he had appointed him." (2 Samuel 20:4-5 LSB)

David has a new rebellion on his hands, led by a Benjamite named Sheba. He needs to act quickly. But whom does he call upon? He calls Amasa. This is the same Amasa who was the commanding general of Absalom's rebel army. In a grand gesture of reconciliation, David had promised to make Amasa his new commander-in-chief, replacing Joab (2 Sam. 19:13). This was a political move, designed to win back the hearts of the men of Judah who had followed Absalom. It was an attempt to heal the nation by promoting the leader of the opposition.

But good intentions do not make good policy. Amasa is given a direct order with a strict deadline: muster the army in three days. And he fails. The text says he "delayed." Why? Perhaps the men of Judah did not trust him. He had just led them in a disastrous defeat. Perhaps they were still loyal to Joab, their victorious, battle-hardened general. Or perhaps Amasa was simply incompetent. Whatever the reason, the result is the same. At a moment of national crisis, the king's new commander cannot get the job done. David's policy of sentimental mercy has produced paralysis.

This is a picture of a king whose authority is compromised. Because of his own great sin, David's hand is weakened. He cannot deal decisively with Joab for killing Absalom against his orders, so he tries to sideline him with a political appointment. But the appointment is a failure, and the new rebellion of Sheba is gaining ground. This is what happens when leaders make decisions based on sentiment and political calculation rather than on righteous principle and proven competence.


The Real Power in Israel (vv. 6-8)

With Amasa failing, David is forced to turn to his old guard, but he still tries to avoid Joab.

"And David said to Abishai, 'Now Sheba the son of Bichri will do us more harm than Absalom; take your lord's servants and pursue him...' So Joab's men pursued him, along with the Cherethites and the Pelethites and all the mighty men..." (2 Samuel 20:6-7 LSB)

David recognizes the extreme danger. Sheba's rebellion, if it is allowed to fester, could be worse than Absalom's. He needs his elite troops, the "lord's servants." But notice, he gives the command to Abishai, Joab's brother. He is still trying to keep Joab at arm's length. But this is a distinction without a difference. The text immediately clarifies who is really in charge: "So Joab's men pursued him." The professional soldiers, the Cherethites and Pelethites, and the mighty men, all march out. And at their head, whether officially appointed or not, is Joab. The army belongs to Joab. Their loyalty is to him. David may sit on the throne, but Joab commands the sword.

"They were at the large stone which is in Gibeon, and Amasa came to meet them. Now Joab was dressed in his military attire, and over it was a belt with a sword in its sheath fastened at his waist; and as he came out, it fell out." (2 Samuel 20:8 LSB)

The two forces meet at Gibeon. Amasa, having finally gathered some men, comes to take command. And here we find Joab, dressed for business. The detail about the sword is crucial. As Joab steps forward, his short sword, likely a gladius-type weapon, conveniently "fell out" of its sheath. Was this an accident? Highly unlikely. This is a piece of grim theater. It was a deliberate move to appear clumsy, perhaps to disarm Amasa's suspicion. Joab is a master of deception, and he is setting the stage for what comes next.


Treachery with a Kiss (vv. 9-10)

What follows is one of the most cold-blooded acts of treachery in all of Scripture.

"Then Joab said to Amasa, 'Is it well with you, my brother?' And Joab took Amasa by the beard with his right hand to kiss him. But Amasa was not on guard against the sword which was in Joab's hand so he struck him in the belly with it and poured out his inward parts on the ground, and did not strike him again, and he died." (2 Samuel 20:9-10 LSB)

Joab greets his rival, his own cousin, with a term of endearment: "my brother." He asks of his welfare. He then performs a gesture of respect and affection, taking him by the beard to kiss him. This is the ancient equivalent of a warm embrace between comrades. And Amasa, fatally, is "not on guard." He does not see the sword that is now in Joab's left hand. While his right hand holds Amasa's face in a gesture of peace, his left hand drives the blade into Amasa's gut.

The murder is brutal, efficient, and public. "He did not strike him again." One blow was all that was needed. This is Joab's signature. He is a man of terrible, swift violence. This is a covenantal betrayal of the highest order. It is a lie acted out. It is a kiss that kills. It is the spirit of Judas, centuries before Judas. Joab is not just eliminating a rival for his job; he is demonstrating in the most graphic way possible that he, and he alone, will lead David's army. He is solving a political problem with a blade.


The Politics of a Corpse (vv. 11-13)

The immediate aftermath is a lesson in crisis management and ruthless public relations.

"Now there stood by him one of Joab's young men, and said, 'Whoever delights in Joab and whoever is for David, let him follow Joab.' But Amasa lay wallowing in his blood in the middle of the highway. And the man saw that all the people stood still." (2 Samuel 20:11-12 LSB)

Joab and Abishai immediately continue the pursuit of Sheba, leaving the mess behind. But the mess is a problem. The sight of the king's newly appointed general, disemboweled and dying in the middle of the road, is a shocking spectacle. It literally stops the army in its tracks. The soldiers "stood still." This is a moment of potential mutiny. The whole campaign is about to grind to a halt over this gruesome scene.

But Joab has his loyalists. One of his armor-bearers steps forward and reframes the entire situation with a brilliant piece of political spin. He shouts, "Whoever delights in Joab and whoever is for David, let him follow Joab." Notice the genius of this. He inextricably links loyalty to Joab with loyalty to the king. He presents the choice not as "David's man vs. Joab," but as "Joab and David vs. the rebels." He makes following the murderer an act of patriotism. It is a bold, audacious move.


But the problem of the body remains. Propaganda is not enough.

"So he removed Amasa from the highway into the field and threw a garment over him when he saw that everyone who came by him stood still. As soon as he was removed from the highway, all the men passed on after Joab to pursue Sheba the son of Bichri." (2 Samuel 20:12-13 LSB)

The solution is brutally pragmatic. If the sight of the corpse is stopping traffic, get the corpse off the road. The young man drags Amasa's body into a field and covers it with a cloak. Out of sight, out of mind. Once the grisly reminder of Joab's treachery is hidden, the men are able to move on. The march continues. The rebellion will be crushed. This is the way of the world. Inconvenient truths, like murdered bodies, are covered up so that the business of power can proceed.


Conclusion: God's Crooked Stick

What are we to make of this sordid affair? First, we see that sin has consequences. David's sin weakened his reign, forcing him into a position where he was dependent on a man like Joab, a man he could not control. When a leader's moral authority is gone, he is often left with only the tools of brute force and political cunning, tools that men like Joab wield with terrifying skill.

Second, we see the wickedness of covenant-breaking. Joab's kiss was a profound evil. To use the symbols of love and brotherhood to facilitate murder is a demonic inversion of God's created order. We must be a people whose loyalty is real, whose affections are true, and whose word is our bond. We must beware the kiss of Joab in our churches, in our families, and in our own hearts.

But last, we see the strange and terrible sovereignty of God. Joab is a wicked man. He is a murderer who will one day answer for his crimes at the command of Solomon. And yet, in the inscrutable providence of God, this act of treachery was the very thing that enabled the kingdom to be saved from Sheba's rebellion. Joab was the effective man, the man who got the job done when the king's appointee could not. God used the ruthless pragmatism of a bloody-handed man to secure the throne of David, the throne from which the Messiah would come.

This does not excuse Joab's sin for a moment. But it should cause us to marvel at the God who can draw a straight line with such a crooked stick. Our hope is not in the competence of men like Amasa, or even in the flawed righteousness of men like David. Our hope is not in the brutal efficiency of men like Joab. Our hope is in the King who came from David's line, who also was betrayed with a kiss. But unlike Amasa, He did not stay down. He rose again, having secured His kingdom not with a sword in the gut of his enemies, but by receiving the sword of God's wrath in His own side for us.