King Saul. John C. Holbert

were killed on each side, until Benjamin nearly disappeared as a people. Only 600 or so of the fighting men managed to escape from the last battle and went to hide in the mountain range known as the Rock of Rimmon, cowering there for four moons while the much larger army of the eleven tribes burned Gibeah and the surrounding cities of Benjamin, slaughtered their livestock, and cut down those remaining Benjaminites unable to escape to the mountains. They gathered at Mizpah and vowed that no woman would be given to any Benjaminite under any circumstances, thus insuring the tribe’s complete extinction. The surviving and desperate Benjaminites at last captured some women for wives, and the tribe was saved.

      As the storyteller ended the story, he would pause and wait for the comments and questions that always came.

      “What an appalling story,” some woman listener would say. “Rape and abuse and murder and theft and brutal war! What sort of time was it? What sort of people were these ancestors of ours?”

      “Well,” the storyteller would respond, “there were no real leaders in those days; everyone did what was right for themselves.”

      The stories of the concubine of Gibeah and of the attempted decimation of Benjamin at Mizpah always bred terror and horror and wonder when they were told. One had only to mention Gibeah and Mizpah to send a shudder down many an Israelite back.

      But now a leader was emerging in Israel, and Samuel called all who would to meet him in Mizpah. For Samuel, it was essential that Mizpah be the place of his largest gathering. The horrors of the civil war between Benjamin and the rest of the tribes, and the brutality with which it started and with which it was conducted, were still all too fresh in the minds of the people. Samuel knew that a gathering at Mizpah would conjure up all those blighted memories. But he also knew that the memories of Mizpah would speak a word of truth to all who were there. When he stood in front of them and announced that they were a sinful people, in the most desperate need of God and God’s trustworthy prophet, not a single one of them would be able to deny the truth of what he said. All would cry out for God’s mercy, and Samuel would be the conduit of that mercy on earth. Mizpah’s monstrous deeds would serve as a springboard for Samuel’s advancing career as YHWH’s prophet. Mizpah would no longer be known as the place of human arrogance and lust and greed and brutality, but henceforth it would be the place of God’s extraordinary mercy, and just as importantly, a place of Samuel’s prophetic power. His patient waiting and working for all these years were about to bear fruit. So Samuel’s people took special care in setting up the great tent, and brought extra food and gifts for those who would come to listen, fine figs and dates, extra jars of the best wine and rich beer, fresh loaves of bread, all ready to be handed to the worshippers. And, of course, there was always the anticipated smell and tastes of the sacrificial meat that capped the worship. But since the day was fine, and not too hot, Samuel decided that the tent was not appropriate this time. Instead, he chose to use the natural cliff-face of the city to serve as the backdrop for his service.

      As the sun moved just past the mid point of the sky and headed to its place of rest in the west, like a bridegroom moving toward his marriage bed, Samuel strode toward the amphitheater’s cliff. The milling crowd soon caught sight of the prophet, known to some by sight and to others only by reputation, and moved to the rocky grotto in expectation of the main event of the day’s activities, a speech from the now famous Samuel. Many of the people were not sure what to expect. Those who had heard him speak before, those from his home in Ramah and the nearby villages of Beth-aven and Michmash especially, imagined that it would be something of what they had already heard. He was, they knew and he never tired of saying, YHWH’s prophet, so he always recounted the great history of that God’s works for the people of Israel, the creation of the world, the parting of the sea, the gift of the law and the land. He would surely speak of that. And he deeply detested the foreign gods, Baal, Astarte, Milcom, Dagon and all of their little godletts, often so beloved of the people of the hills and of the foreigners still living among them. They could safely bet that there would be a verbal annihilation of the lot of them, and a companion demand for exclusive devotion to YHWH who was God without peer or rival. But the prophet was also unpredictable, and would spice his oratory with unexpected stories and harsh words against any who dared disagree with him. For, above all, Samuel believed completely that he was speaking the word of YHWH directly; thus, any contradiction of his words was a rejection of YHWH, worthy only of scorn and abuse. Such a belief made for verbal fire at times, and the people were often anxious for some courageous, but ultimately foolish, listener to challenge Samuel’s claims and demands. That made for a lively time, and in the middle of the afternoon, and after a rich period of snacking on bread, dates, and flavorful beer, and anticipating the flavorful meat to follow, a sparring match was just what was needed to enliven a sleepy day.

      The sun finally set, and the elders of the city of Mizpah lit the huge torches to illuminate the grotto and to light the path toward the sanctuary for those who wanted to pray before the evening meeting with Samuel.

      The prophet made his way toward the stone grotto, led and followed by two blazing torches that outlined his face and hair in fire and gave his person an almost spectral look, unearthly somehow. As he climbed up on the platform, the shadow of his body shown enormously on the face of the cliff, dancing hugely with every one of his movements. He had hoped that his shadow would match the thunder of his voice as it boomed out of his bearded face and out of the dimly lighted darkness. All seemed to have worked perfectly, and Samuel waited for the crowd to hush. He called them all to prayer.

      “YHWH of battles, full of mercy and forgiveness, but always demanding

      righteousness and truth, we, your people, come this night in fear and in hope. We fear your power, but we hope in that same power. You have acted for our ancestors in the past in Egypt, at the Sea, at the holy mountain, at the city of Jericho. Act for us now, for we are great sinners in your sight, and our enemies are nearby. Our enemies are your enemies, so defeat them, O YHWH, and defend your name in their sight. Speak your truth this night through the mouth of your servant. Let your people know that my words are yours, and that your people can trust in me. For as you love your people so do I love them and give my life for them. Speak, YHWH, speak. Call us all to serve and love you! Bind us together here at this place of shame into a people of unity and power, supported and led by you, our help and our God.”

      The final word “God” resounded throughout the grotto and into the ears of everyone there, and a great shout of “Amen” rent the night air. Then other shouts were heard.

      “You are YHWH”s prophet, great Samuel!”

      “We will follow you to victory over those hated Philistines!”

      “Our lives are in your hands and in the hands of our God, YHWH!”

      And many other affirmations were expressed until Samuel held up his hands for quiet. Finally a hush returned. And Samuel spoke again.

      “You are not the only ones listening to the sound of my voice, my brothers and sisters! Yes, the Philistines have heard of our meeting and even now they are lurking just outside these shadows, waiting for the time to strike us and to kill us.”

      Immediately, the people were in an uproar of terror. They began to shout to be saved from the warriors of the iron weapons and flying chariots. They felt helpless against them here at Mizpah, so close to the Philistine lands, a mere one-day walk to one of their largest cities, Ekron. How could they have been so foolish as to expose themselves and their families here at Mizpah? How could they have allowed this upstart prophet to lure them so far west, and to increase their vulnerability to their enemies? The crowd, so supportive of the prophet, began to turn against him and to demand that he protect them. If the Philistines were now so close as to hear Samuel, as they were hearing him, how could they hope to escape? Again, Samuel raised his hands for quiet. He lifted that great voice and spoke into the murmuring crowd.

      “Have you no faith in the power of YHWH? Even as I speak YHWH is beginning to deal with these pagans. Just as YHWH tossed the wretched Egyptians and their vaunted chariots into the Sea of Reeds, so YHWH will again attend to the chariots of these Philistines. We have only to wait and watch and see the power of YHWH!”

      And with those words, Samuel produced on the platform a snowy lamb, a pure sacrifice