King Saul. John C. Holbert

prophet/priest of YHWH! No, he was still Samuel; he still was leader in Israel. He still had two sons who would be his heirs, despite some rumors of their bad behavior in Beer Sheba. Those rumors would quickly be proven false, and the hotheads who spread them would be dealt with severely. Samuel had no intention of setting a king over Israel. Perhaps he had heard God wrongly; perhaps God had really said for Samuel to continue to resist the would-be kingmakers in Israel. Surely that must be it; he had simply not heard God clearly.

      And with that conviction, he strode out of the temple with new assurance about the course he must follow. He was Samuel and while he was leader in Israel, there would be no king, ever! The crowd had quieted down considerably while Samuel had been in the temple, and when many of them noticed the priest signaling for silence, they passed the word to their jubilant companions that Samuel had something else to say. All of them fully expected him to announce his choice of king among them, or if not that, at least he would say that the process for the selection of their king would begin now with a final decision made in due course. Their silence was eager, and they became eerily quiet in anticipation.

      Samuel waited for absolute calm, and then said, clearly and loudly, “Each of you may go home.”

      He turned and moved back into the temple without another word, but if any of them could have seen his face as he turned, he would have seen a satisfied smile crease his lips.

      Rage burst from every throat in the crowd; they demanded that Samuel return and do what they asked. They commanded him to come back and to face their anger. They shouted after his retreating back, but he seemed not to hear the din. As he disappeared into the sanctuary, the crowd was reduced to impotent fury, breaking apart into knots of people, all talking at once, wondering now what they should do. The men of Beer Sheba in agitation saddled their animals, and left Ramah for the long journey back to their city and their repulsive leaders. Nothing had been solved. Nothing had been decided. Israel was in limbo, a long-time servant near death, two sons unworthy of his legacy, and no leadership in a time of advancing dangers. Beer Sheba and Ramah and all the cities of the land were filled with anxious hearts that night as all wondered what they were to do. What was the word from YHWH? What was the word from Samuel? No one could answer either of those questions.

      8

      Samuel finished the cup of beer with a satisfied smacking of his lips. He was glad that his life-long Nazirite vow only prevented him from products from grapes, and not grain. This beer was so good and relaxing. Yes, they had all awaited his words, which were the words of YHWH for Israel. Samuel was more than ever convinced that YHWH did not want a king—not really. YHWH wanted him to choose a king who was so weak, so pathetic, that once Israel saw a king in action, they would crawl back to Samuel and demand that he depose the monstrosity and give them again his great leadership skills, and after his death, the skills of his sons. It was time to return to Saul, who, as the pliant boy he appeared to be, would be waiting politely by the well. I will give them a king all right, he thought, and smiled confidently as he tossed his cup aside and returned to the well of Ramah.

      He could now see very clearly the game YHWH was playing.

      “Anoint a king, Samuel,” YHWH had said, but “warn them about kings.”

      Samuel had done so in the strongest terms he could muster. But he had also resisted the promptings of his God. But now God had thrown a candidate for prince in his face, had forced him to anoint, had given him no escape. Yet, the man, though impressive to be sure, seemed slow, unaware, naïve. Samuel could anoint this one, and after a time, perhaps a very brief time, the people would see the mistake they had made, would reject the man as their prince, and would return once again to their real princes, YHWH and Samuel, and finally to Samuel’s sons. Yes, Samuel could see what YHWH had in mind.

      He walked up to the well, and looked high into the handsome face of Saul.

      “I am the seer.”

      If the idiot thought of him only as a seer, a kind of soothsayer, a finder of lost things, why should he enlighten him that he, Samuel, was in fact the mighty prophet of the creator of heaven and earth, YHWH of the armies? Still, he would tell this so-called prince exactly what he would now do, down to the finest details. Samuel was still master in Israel, and no young pup, no matter how big, no matter how handsome, would get in the way of that mastery.

      He turned his massive voice full on, and pointed it at the towering boy.

      “Go up before me to the high place, for both of you must eat with me today. Then in the morning, I will send you away, Saul, right after I tell you everything that is in your mind and heart.”

      Samuel lessened the power of his voice as he spoke this last sentence, emphasizing his ability to play the role of seer if he wanted to; he did not exactly whisper the words but he did utter them with a particularly portentous tone. He was not after all above a bit of playacting when it served the purpose.

      In a more common way, he then said, “As for the donkeys that were lost those days ago, drop them from your mind, for they have been found.”

      Saul’s eyes widened as he heard the wizard not only tell him why he had come but announce that he had solved the problem before being told what it was! He turned to Joseph in wonder, rather like a child with a clay boat, and smiled broadly at him, and then looked back at the magical Samuel. But the old man had one more thing to say, and this time he mustered his best prophetic voice, not loud but cavernous, as if the words were coming from long ago, from deep in the ancient earth.

      “And who is in fact the whole desire of Israel? Is it not you and the house of your father?”

      The words nearly choked in Samuel’s throat, but he had worded them carefully. If this was the prince-to-be, so designated by YHWH, then Samuel wanted him to know it. But he also wanted him to know that this thing was the desire of Israel, not his desire. Nor, did Samuel believe, that it was really the desire of God. This silly boy was going to play the dupe for God and Samuel, and after he was shown for the fool he was, the people would come to their senses and return to Samuel, the only prophet of YHWH. Still, he could not bring himself to say the word “king” or “prince” or “ruler” or any word remotely resembling them. “Desire of Israel” would do, because the people’s evil desire for a king started all this mess, and Samuel was about to give them what they wanted, however insane he thought the whole thing was.

      Saul was first puzzled by the words he had heard from the ancient man, the man who had solved his donkey problem, and looked at Samuel with a completely blank stare. How in God’s world could I be the “desire of Israel,” he thought; I cannot even keep track of a few silly donkeys? And why should my “father’s house” be any sort of a desire for Israel? Kish had some land and property but no distinction, no gifts, no notoriety or reputation of any kind. Kish and Saul were not even the desire of their village, let alone all Israel! Perhaps the seer had misspoken; perhaps he had become slightly unhinged in his vast old age; perhaps he had confused him with someone else.

      “I am only a Benjaminite, the very least of the tribes of Israel.”

      Saul, like everyone else in his tribe, knew the terrible story of the Levite and the concubine; his mother used to scare him with it when he was a small child. She too vividly told the part when the poor woman was dismembered by her master, her pieces sent throughout the land. Saul trembled slightly even now as that scene tumbled back into his memory.

      “And my family is the most insignificant family of that most insignificant tribe.”

      Saul almost said “cursed” but he feared a rebuke from the holy man who stood silent before him.

      “Why have you spoken to me like this?”

      He strongly emphasized “me” in his response. He waited for the old man to speak again. But he did not.

      Instead, Samuel stood between Saul and his servant, and led them up to the high place and into the small hall that served as the spot where worshippers ate after the close of the sacrificial rites, that is, if one was invited. To his shock, Saul sat at the head of the table, in front of some thirty people who were obviously the significant people of Ramah. Many mumbled as Saul