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Narrator
bring good to the table previously on the Chosen People.
Advisor/Queen Macha
What God has given you. Did he tell you to build those Asherah poles? How about the altar to Milcom? Have you heard their screams, Solomon?
Prince Abijam
What screams?
Advisor/Queen Macha
The screams of the children they sacrifice on those altars. You allowed them to build children, Solomon, My king.
General Benaiah
The northern tribes grow restless. Jeroboam, who has successfully evaded our assassins, is now reported to be in exile in Egypt. But his name is everywhere. They are rallying around him.
Narrator
To the right of the Temple Mount in the distance he could see firelight. Another festival to Molech was being held. Solomon could hear the drums, the women and the crying of infants, Drunken rituals, idol worship, child sacrifice.
Prophet
Because you have done this, because you have turned your heart from me, because you have chased after the gods of your wives, and because you have not kept my covenant and my statutes as your father David did, I will tear the kingdom from your hands and give it to your servant now, your enemy, Jeroboam.
Narrator
What have I done?
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Advisor/Queen Macha
Why did I search the Internet for
Narrator
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Advisor/Queen Macha
I can clear my search history, but
Narrator
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Narrator
King Solomon the wise went the way of all men. Whether they be kings or servants, tyrants or priests, the fate of all remains the same. Solomon left a gleaming empire behind. But for all its glamour, it teetered on the brink of chaos and war. The children of Israel were crushed under the weight of taxes and conscripted labor. As a result, they had little faith left in their rulers. They had given their gold and their sons to build the wealthy king's magnificent city. And now they wondered if it had all been for nothing. Unlike his father, Solomon left no grand deathbed speeches, no impassioned final blessings. He died as the pagan kings did, surrounded by his wealth, his concubines, his courtiers and his progeny, squabbling over their place in the power vacuum he left behind. His burial procession was as glamorous as his reign. But even then, the cries of mourners and sounding of the dirge were swallowed by the relentless clang of chisels and hammers. Israel was still building. Only one woman stood apart from the clamor. Abishag, the Shulamite, his first and only love. She grieved not only for the man he was, but but for the man he could have been. His gift had become his pride. His wisdom had made him blind. His hunger for more had led him down the path of destruction. Solomon's son, Rehoboam, inherited the kingdom, the wealth, the throne, but not the wisdom. When the time for a coronation came, it was decided that it would take place in Shechem, in. In the north, not Jerusalem. Shechem was a city steeped in Israel's history. It was the site of Abraham's first altar, the resting place of Joseph, and the valley where the nation once reaffirmed its covenant with Yahweh. A symbolic location, and a strategic one, because this was Ephraimite land, the heart of Israel's territories. And it was here that the north would make its demands. And because the south was clinging to its remaining sovereignty over the kingdom made up of 12 tribes, the decision was made for them to leave the grandeur and safety of the capital and venture north. But as Rehoboam and his entourage set out, Jeroboam returned from Egyptian exile. The prodigal son of Ephraim, champion of the northern tribes, had arrived to stake his claim. He stood before Rehoboam and all the tribal leaders of Israel, pleading the case of the north.
Jeroboam
Your Majesty, we have come before you not as rebels, but as your loyal subjects. We have built your father's cities, harvested his fields, paid his tribute, but his yoke was heavy upon us.
Narrator
Rehoboam shifted on his makeshift throne in the cramped hall. He stood flanked by his advisors. At his right was Benaiah, the other standing nearby was Adoniram, the stern and sour overseer of conscripted labor. Beside them stood his mother, Neymar, now reigning as Gabira, Queen Mother, and his favorite wife, Macha, whispering in his ear, maneuvering him to suit her own ambitions. Their son and heir, Abijam, sat close, by his scheming mother's design. And then, of course, there were Rehoboam's spoiled young companions, arrogant, entitled men who grew up with him in the palace, ready to blindly lead him astray. Jeroboam, despite having been exiled in Egypt these past few years, could see their pretentious royal pride laid before him. Plainly, it was important that Jeroboam lived up to being the man of the people. He did not have high hopes for the outcome of this gathering, but he was certain of one thing. It would seal both his fate and Rehoboam's forever. And all of Israel would bear witness.
Jeroboam
And so I come to you, your Majesty, and I ask that you lighten the burden your father placed on us. Do this and we will serve you as our king.
Narrator
There was a long pause. Rehoboam leaned back, eyes flicking to his counsel. He was painfully unaware of how important this request was. Macha narrowed her eyes and shook her head almost imperceptibly at her husband's questioning look. Their son, Abijam, loudly scoffed at Jeroboam's request. Their reactions solidified Rehoboam's answer.
King Rehoboam
You ask me to weaken my father's rule.
Jeroboam
We ask for justice and the right to return to our homes.
Narrator
Murmurs from the crowd stirred at that. Rehoboam hesitated, unsure of what to do. His wife leaned over and whispered in his ear.
Advisor/Queen Macha
Three days. Keep them waiting. Make them beg for your favor.
Narrator
Rehoboam nodded and stood.
King Rehoboam
Leave me. Return in three days and you'll have my answer.
Narrator
Grumbles of frustration rippled through the hall, but the northern leaders bowed stiffly and withdrew. Jeroboam's smile curled. Rehoboam's obvious indecision would only solidify Jeroboam's claim to the throne. The kingdom was slipping through his fingers, and he didn't even know it. Jeroboam turned, following his fellow tribesmen out of the hall. In three days, Israel would not Decide its future. Its future had already been decided.
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Narrator
Rehoboam's fingers anxiously tapped the table in front of him as his advisors laid out their cases before him. Again they were divided into two camps. The elders who served Solomon and the younger nobles who grew up up alongside Rehoboam. Benaiah, the old general, pleaded the case of the elders.
General Benaiah
Your Majesty, if today you serve the people, they will serve you forever. But if you speak harshly, they will turn against you.
Narrator
Rehoboam's son, Abijam, scoffed and interjected on behalf of the younger group,
Prince Abijam
you don't truly think that people would turn against the House of David, do you? My great grandfather united us, and my grandfather made us all rich. The people won't forget that.
Narrator
The old general winced at the young prince's willful arrogance, but kept trying for reason anyway.
General Benaiah
Yes, Prince Abidjan, I'm sure the people remember their heritage. But people also tend to bow to what is wrong right in front of them under duress. King Solomon's rule was great but costly, my king. Rehoboam, if I may, I think you should heed your father's elders and hear our counsel. Perhaps your greatness will be found in wisdom as well, not oppression.
Narrator
Rehoboam's mother, Naamar, rose to her son's defense and snapped at Benaiah from across the table and from her seat at her son's right hand.
Queen Mother Naamar
My son has already found his greatness, Benaniah. I prayed to the God of my people that Rehoboam would be king after his father and twice as powerful with the kingdom he inherited. And Milcom has Delivered. I don't understand why these northerners haven't just crowned Rehoboam and made it official by now. We marched all the way up here. Why the delay?
General Benaiah
Pardon any offense, Gabira, but I just wanted to ensure there is a peaceful transfer of power for your son.
Narrator
Naamar waved off the general dismissively and leaned in toward her.
Producer/Closing Announcer
Son?
Queen Mother Naamar
You are not just your father's son, Rehoboam. You are my son. I prayed to Milcom that you would rule, and he has answered. Do not insult the gods by squandering what they have given.
Narrator
From Rehoboam's other side, Macha entered the fray with her signature flattery that had earned her the spot of favored wife and future queen mother.
Advisor/Queen Macha
My husband has the wisdom of his father, and he has the power bestowed upon him by Asherah, the God of my people. My love, who has been loyal to you? The people or the ones sitting at this table? Your father built this kingdom. We stand on his foundation. What good is love from men who forget their place? King Rehoboam will do what he thinks is right, and we will all support him without question.
Narrator
Macha punctuated her final words with a threatening stare in Benaiah's direction. Her carefully crafted security rode on her ability to keep everyone obeying her husband's words. Marca had worked to secure her position as the favored wife of Rehoboam and her son as the heir. She was not about to upset it now. Rehoboam frowned but did not answer. He turned to the younger nobles he grew up with, with his son Abijam leading the charge of their shared opinion.
Prince Abijam
Father, you're not truly considering bending to these old men.
Narrator
The younger nobles laughed. Rehoboam's pride stung, but he looked between the two groups of advisors, his supportive mother and wife in between. They only wanted to see him in power. They didn't care how he did it.
Prince Abijam
Grandfather ruled with iron, and you would rule with straw.
Narrator
Laughter erupted from the young nobles again, landing harshly on Rehoboam's ears. He forced a smirk to mirror his son's, but something twisted in his gut. His fingers tightened around the edge of the table. His father's legacy. His burden pressed heavily on his shoulders.
Prince Abijam
Tell them your little fingers thicker than your father's waist. Tell them my father scourged you with whips, but I'll scourge you with scorpions. Show them your power. If you show them anything less, they won't fear you.
Narrator
Rehoboam nodded with a gleam in his eye. At his son's words, tempted. But he was determined to consider all his options, like Father would have done.
King Rehoboam
Leave me.
Narrator
The advisors rose, bowed, and departed the room. The older ones seemed eager to excuse themselves, while the younger seemed put out that they didn't receive affirmation right away for their extreme stance. His mother swept from the room with an encouraging squeeze on his arm, while his wife lingered with a questioning look in her eye.
King Rehoboam
You can go, my love. This is a decision I must make alone.
Advisor/Queen Macha
As you say, my love.
Narrator
When he was alone in the dusty hall, Rehoboam sighed, running his hands over his round face. He had long relied on his father's guidance, his famed wisdom, but now that it was all on him, he hesitated. This decision would define his reign.
King Rehoboam
But should I be feared and powerful like my son and my friends advise carrying out my father's legacy? Should I give in to the people's demands and become beloved by them? But then, would I be saved? Spitting in the face of what my
Narrator
father built, Rehoboam stood and paced around the ancient table in the dimly lit hall. Solomon had toiled to give his son stability and prosperity, but the endeavors had also pulled him away. Rehoboam knew he should be grateful for the easy, privileged life he had been afforded, but he often resented his father for the long hours delighted, devoted to building his empire and writing and debating with men with whom Rehoboam had nothing in common. And so he had become his mother's creature, worshipping her gods, basking in the light of her praise and aspirations, and dreaming about the day that he would become the man in charge at last.
King Rehoboam
What kind of king should I be? A king of wisdom or a king of power? My father built this kingdom, but they resent him for it. And now they want me to be weaker than him.
Narrator
He stopped his pacing and gripped the edge of the table. He longed to build a legacy like his father's, in spite of his father's. Perhaps.
King Rehoboam
No, I will not. I was born to rule. A king is feared, not questioned. If my father was a king of wisdom, then I will be a king of power. If he built with a hammer, then I will rule with an iron fist. His kingdom is mine.
Crowd/Supporters
Mine.
King Rehoboam
And they will know it.
Narrator
On the third morning, the tribes of Israel once more gathered before all Rehoboam. With Jeroboam at their helm, Jeroboam's calculating eyes took in everything. Rehoboam rose and puffed out his chest, ready to give his answer. Jeroboam fought the urge to roll his eyes at the display of self importance. But he knew the eyes of the north were upon him, too. They would follow his reaction to Rehoboam's promise. Proclamation.
King Rehoboam
You say my father was harsh? Then hear me now. My little finger is thicker than my father's waist.
Narrator
Outrage rippled through the crowd. Jeroboam expected this, but he was surprised that he was clenching his jaw and balling his fists nonetheless.
King Rehoboam
My father disciplined you with whips, but I will discipline you with scorpions.
Narrator
There was a long, deadly silence. Jeroboam stared, stunned by the sheer ignorance before him. Scorpions. The word alone sent a shudder down his spine. He had seen the scorpions before in Egypt. They were more than whips. They were tools of torture and bloodshed. Long wooden handles, thick leather lashes, and shards of jagged metal woven in between. He had watched men's backs split open like parchment, flesh curling away to expose raw muscle, sometimes even bone. And now Rehoboam had invoked that image. Here he threatened the very men whose poor backs had built Solomon's empire. The very men Rehoboam hoped to rule.
King Rehoboam
Did I say something to amuse you?
Jeroboam
Forgive me. It's just. It's just funny. I believe I heard something similar from Pharaoh in Egypt.
King Rehoboam
What are you getting at?
Jeroboam
We were slaves once, Rehoboam. Never again.
Narrator
The hall was tense. Every man at Jeroboam's back fixed Rehoboam and his ilk with lethal stares. Then, from the crowd of northerners, the words of an old battle cry rang out over the strained silence.
Crowd/Supporters
What portion do we have in David? We have no inheritance in the son of Jesse. Israel. Return to your tents. The sons of David can look after their own house.
Narrator
Jeroboam saw a glimmer of panic cross before Rehoboam's eyes. There was stillness for another fraught heartbeat, and then chaos. Jeroboam peeled back into the crowd, but was handed a club. The northerners at the far end of the hall exploded with fury and sprang forward past the tribal leaders and toward the royal family and advisors. But they were swiftly driven back by Rehoboam's guard.
Crowd/Supporters
To arms. Defend your king.
Narrator
The old general then swiftly hauled Rehoboam off the makeshift throne and fled toward the back of the hall, the royal women hot on his heels. He and a few of the royal guards formed a protective wall around Rehoboam, Abidjan, and the women. With Benaiah defending Rehoboam, Adoniram, the overseer of conscripted labor, stepped up to aid the guards in holding the furious crowd back to give the others a chance to escape. For a moment it seemed like the mob would quiet. And then a stone flew. Then another and another. The crowds surged forward, their stones finding their mark over and over on Adoniram's defenseless body. The overseer of forced labor stumbled to the ground, dead, blood pooling on the stone floor. Benaiah tightened his grip, yanking Rehoboam back. Chariots waited behind them.
Crowd/Supporters
Your Highness. Go now.
Narrator
Rehoboam stumbled, but was shoved toward the chariot. His mother was similarly thrust in after him. His wife and son were in a second chariot behind. The din of the riot behind them was deafening shouts, screams, more sickening cracks of stone on flesh. The chariot jolted forward and Rehoboam gripped aside, panting. The wheels kicked up dust. The sound of hooves drowned out the chaos as they fled. He turned back once when they crested a hill. To his horror, tongues of fire were licking the sides of the ancient Shechem Hall. His people, his kingdom, were reduced to a riot of fury and flame. He jerked forward, ignoring the tears of his mother beside him.
King Rehoboam
It's just fraction. This is a setback. It can be reforged, reclaimed. I am still the king.
Narrator
The kingdom his father built was tearing itself apart. Or rather, it was being torn from him.
Producer/Closing Announcer
This prey.com production is only made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents. Steve Cattina, Max Bard, Zach Shellavaga and Ben Gammon are the executive producers of the Chosen People. Narrated by Paul Coltofianu. Characters are voiced by Jonathan Cotton, Aaron Salvato, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan, Steven Ringwald, Sylvia zaradoc, Thomas Copeland Jr. Rosanna Pilcher and Mitch Leschinsky. Music by Andrew Morgan Smith. Written by Aaron Salvato, Bree Rosely and Chris Baig. You can hear more prey.com productions on the prey.com app available on the Apple App Store and Google Play Store. If you enjoyed the Chosen People, please rate and leave a review evening.
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Congratulations. I mean it.
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Host: Pray.com
Episode Date: August 2, 2026
Main Theme: The division of Israel after the death of Solomon—exploring the political, spiritual, and interpersonal fractures that broke apart a once-united kingdom.
This episode of The Chosen People offers a dramatic retelling of the pivotal moment when ancient Israel split into two kingdoms following King Solomon’s death. The episode vividly dramatizes the historical and scriptural narrative found in 1 Kings 11-12, blending biblical text, artistic dialogue, and character-driven storytelling. Central are the contrasting legacies of Solomon and his son Rehoboam, and the tragic choices that led to Israel’s division.
Rehoboam is torn between two factions:
Queen Mother Naamar and favored wife Macha both push Rehoboam toward harshness, manipulating his insecurities and pride to secure their family’s legacy.
In a dramatic public show, Rehoboam declares:
The northern tribes, led by Jeroboam, react in outrage—referencing their ancestral freedom and invoking secession.
Violence erupts. The overseer Adoniram is killed by the mob (22:27), and the royal family barely escapes as chaos and fire consume the hall.
Fleeing the riot, Rehoboam clings to denial:
The narrator concludes with bleak, poetic commentary:
This episode of The Chosen People offers both an emotional and intellectual immersion into one of the Old Testament’s most consequential turning points—making ancient scripture alive, nuanced, and urgent for modern audiences.