Scripture 1 Samuel 9:1-3, 15-18, 10:1
Now there was a man of Benjamin whose name was Kish son of Abiel son of Zeror son of Becorath son of Aphiah [himself] son of a Benjaminite, a warrior-hearted man of substance. He had a son whose name was Saul, a fine young man. There was not a man among the people of Israel finer than he; he stood above and beyond everyone else. Now the female donkeys of Kish, Saul’s father, had strayed. So, Kish said to Saul, “Take one of the boys with you, get up and look for the donkeys.”
Now the Holy One had uncovered the ear of Samuel the day before Saul came, saying: “About this time tomorrow I will send to you a man from the land of Benjamin, and you shall anoint him to be a leader over my people Israel. He shall save my people from the hand of the Philistines, for I have seen the humiliation of my people, because their cry has come to me.” When Samuel saw Saul, the Holy One told him, “Here is the man of whom I spoke to you. He it is who shall govern my people.” Then Saul approached Samuel in the center of the gate, and said, “Tell me, please, where is the house of the seer?”
Samuel took a vial of oil and poured it on Saul’s head, and kissed him, and said, “Has not the Holy One of Old anointed you leader over God’s own heritage?”
Meditation
A true confession from me this morning. I am fascinated with royalty—specifically, the British royal family. (In her notes in the Women’s Lectionary for the Whole Church, Dr. Gafney notes that this is a pretty common American obsession, bloody revolution notwithstanding[i]). I try and fail to resist clickbait stories that pop up on Google News. Currently, I’m very worried about the relationship between Prince Harry and Prince William. Can’t those crazy kids work things out? I’m kidding. Sort of. (By the way: for some interesting historical royal trivia, see me after church.)
I mention all this, because we are once again considering things royal this morning, in the form of a story of a man going to look for some donkeys, and, somehow, ending up king—leader of God’s people. Meet Saul, the first king of Israel, and, as such, a kind of experiment undertaken by God’s people, with God’s sort of half-hearted endorsement.
A couple of weeks ago, in the context of Jesus running from those who wanted him to be king, I read you another passage from 1 Samuel—a passage in which God describes, through the voice of the prophet, the kinds of things a king would do to his people. We are returning to that timeline and that story this morning. Then we were in chapter 8, which begins:
When Samuel became old, he made his sons judges over Israel. The name of his firstborn son was Joel, and the name of his second was Abijah; they were judges in Beer-sheba. Yet his sons did not follow in his ways but turned aside after gain; they took bribes and perverted justice. ~1 Samuel 8:1-3
The people have good reason to want better leadership. The prophet Samuel has stepped back from the role of judge and passed that on to his sons. For the people of Israel, judges were often military leaders, so, given Samuel’s advancing years, that may be the reason he hands over those responsibilities. But Samuel’s sons are corrupt. They are enriching themselves by ruling in favor of the highest bidder.
So the elders of the people go to Samuel, and they insist: “You are old, and your sons do not follow in your ways; appoint for us, then, a king to govern us…” Actually, that word govern is, literally, “judge.” The people want justice. And, then they add, “like other nations.”
There’s the rub: “Like other nations.” God’s covenant people are not like other nations. They are bound together by the laws God has given them, summarized in “You shall love the Lord you God with all your heart and soul, mind and strength,” and “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” They live in community with an unseen and yet sovereign God as their king. This is challenging. And if the humans who are supposed to provide justice are failing, all the more reason to press for something that seems to be working elsewhere: hierarchical human leadership. A scholar I consulted this week reminds us, “The lure of conformity is seductive, and the pressures towards cultural accommodation are great.”[ii] Then, as now. Even in the year 1100 BCE, which is more or less when we think Saul was on the throne. The problem as Samuel sees it, is that the people have rejected him. The problem as God sees it, is, the demand for an earthly king is a rejection of God. It is also the first step towards idolatry, putting a person or thing before God. It’s a dangerous move.
Samuel warns the elders. An earthly king, he tells them, will take your sons for his chariots, and will take your daughters to be bakers or perfumers, and will take, and take, and take from you. But the people are determined—they even mention that it would be good to have someone to lead them into battle. God tells Samuel, “Listen to their voice and set a king over them.” And in the next chapter, we meet Saul.
Our reading gave us bits and pieces of chapter 9. Saul comes from a good family—a family whose patriarch is a “warrior-hearted man of substance.” That probably means he is wealthy, as well as good fighting stock. And our passage tells us, a couple of times, how fine Saul is—he’s tall, he’s handsome, he stands out in a crowd. When we meet him, though, he’s engaged in a pretty humble task: chasing after some runaway donkeys. In the portion of this chapter we skipped over, we see Saul and the boy going from one territory to another and no luck.
After four territories and no luck, Saul is ready to go home, telling the boy that his father will stop worrying about the donkeys and start worrying about him. The boy tells Samuel there is a local man of God, a seer, right there, in that very town. They ascend a hill, and meet some girls who tell them the seer is about to go offer a sacrifice at a local shrine. They hurry to find him.
Of course, it is Samuel, whose ear God has already bent in favor of Saul. When Saul appears, God whispers—this is the man! Saul approaches Samuel, asking after the seer, and Samuel says, “I am the man!” Samuel tells Saul that the donkeys have been found and returned, so no worries there. But he wants Samuel to join him for the meal after the sacrifice, and he drops a major hint: “And on whom is all Israel’s desire fixed, if not on you, and all your ancestral house?”
Saul is stunned. He blurts out, “But I’m just a Benjaminite! We’re the smallest tribe! But Samuel is undeterred. He brings Saul and the boy into a hall where a feast is laid for thirty people. Saul is given the choicest portion of meat. Later, he is shown a place to sleep, and he sleeps. In the morning, Samuel wakes his guests, and leads them out into the street. He sends the boy ahead, and then, with no warning whatsoever, in a very private outdoor ceremony, Samuel anoints Saul “leader over God’s own heritage,” pouring oil over his head and making him ruler over God’s people Israel. He tells Saul, “You shall reign over the people of the Lord, and you will save them from the hand of their enemies all around.” (1 Sam. 10:1)
It's a strange story. This is not Buckingham Palace. There is no regal ceremony in a shrine or temple. It is furtive, secretive, even, and the recipient of this anointing by God’s prophet is confused, uncomprehending. Samuel gives Saul a long list of instructions, where to go, what to expect, what to do. He responds to Saul’s confusion by saying perhaps the only thing that needs saying: “God is with you.” (1 Sam. 10:7) And as Saul takes his leave, something happens. “As he turned away to leave Samuel, God gave him another heart; and all these signs were fulfilled that day.” (1 Sam. 10:9)
This is a new beginning for God’s people Israel. All that Samuel warned the people about is still true. It is a rare ruler who rules selflessly; the odds are not in Saul’s favor. But God is working with God’s people, in their stubbornness. God is working with Saul, at least for now. Saul represents a break from an ancient tradition—the covenant people living solely by God’s leadership, as conveyed through the prophets and judges. The memory of God in the wilderness, going before the people as a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, is still potent. It is still the heart of the tradition: that great Exodus, with God as leader. But now, in perhaps the most hopeful note in the whole story, God gives Saul a new heart, a heart that will enable him to follow God’s call.
Every day we are called to new beginnings. (I mean, there’s a chance I won’t click on the next story I see about Harry and William.) Every day we are called to renewal. God is working with us, too, in our stubbornness and our sadness, in our hopefulness and our determination. Every day God offers us a new heart, to put a new spirit within us. Sometimes God even breaks our hearts of stone, in order to give us hearts for love alone.
This is not the last of the royals we will encounter this summer. But it’s a story that ends in ambivalent hopefulness. Something new is happening, which is always scary. But God promises God’s presence—to Saul, and to us. God is with us, and God will be with us. And God will even give us a new heart, if that will help us to walk the paths to which God calls us.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
[i] Wilda C. Gafney, A Women’s Lectionary for the Whole Church-Year W (New York, NY: Church Publishing Incorporated, 2021), 252.
[ii] Bruce C. Birch, “1 Samuel: Introduction, Commentary and Reflections,” The New Interpreter’s Bible Vol. II, eds. Leander E. Keck, et al. (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1995), 1030.