And It Was Night

As the author begins to recount this episode, he feels like there’s an important detail to remind us of: “Samuel had died.” And, he couples this with a seemingly obscure fact: “Saul had put the mediums and the necromancers out of the land.” Now remember, the writer has interrupted our regularly scheduled programming, David caught between a rock and a hard place, to tell us this story, and it begins with Samuel’s dead and there are no necromancers. Strange, right?

In any case, moving on. The Philistines, as we know from last week, have decided to go to war with Israel, and they’ve gathered the troops. Saul, verse 5 tells us, “was afraid, and his heart trembled greatly.”

Faced with a terrifying situation, Saul’s response is…right. Verse 6 says he “inquired of the Lord.” But, notice God’s response — silence. God didn’t give him “dreams.” God didn’t speak to him by the priests…after all, Saul had murdered many of them, so they couldn’t use the “Urim.” Samuel is dead, so there is no prophetic voice. Just…silence.

So what does Saul do? Well, here’s where that little bit of odd information in the beginning comes into play. Those mediums that Saul had sent out of the kingdom? Well, he sends his servants to “seek out…a woman who is a medium.” He want to be able to ask her a question. It’s interesting that the thing he was called to banish…which probably wasn’t his choice, BTW — he was only doing what was required (Deut. 18)…is no where he turns. And, is it not odd that his servants seem to come back with a quick answer: “There’s a medium at En-dor” (vs.7).

If you think ahead about stories as you read, you might see where this is heading. Saul, disguises himself — as the king, you can’t ask for the services of someone you’ve supposedly banished — takes two men with him, and they come to the woman “by night.” His request is pretty straightforward, about what you’d expect: “Divine for me by a spirit and bring up for me whomever I shall name to you.” (V.8)

The witch of En-dor is like, “Not so fast, my friend. You know it’s illegal for me to divinate. What in the world is this you’re asking of me?! I’m not giving up my life for you.” (V.9)

But Saul “swore to her by the Lord” — ironic, as if he cares what YHWH thinks — that she wouldn’t be punished. (V.10)

So, she asks, “Whom shall I bring up for you?” (v.11). Finally, the last piece of the puzzle. Why remind us that Samuel was dead? Now we know why. That’s who Saul wants to talk to: Samuel.

Verse 12 — she does it. She sees Samuel, and when she does, she cries “out with a loud voice” and says to Saul, “why have you deceived me? You are Saul.” Commentators are a little torn here. Did she cry out because this is the first time she’d ever actually contacted someone from the dead? Or, did she cry out in fear because when Samuel appeared, she knew it was Saul who had come to her. I lean a little toward the latter. I think she’s fearing for her life at this point, but Saul calms her nerves. He wants to know what she sees.

“A god coming up out of the earth” (vs.13). Notice that god is spelled with a capital letter, letting us know that the author isn’t referring to the one true God. And, it helps us to understand what she means when we know that it was common in ancient Near Eastern texts to refer to the spirits of the dead as “gods.” What she sees is Samuel’s spirit, rising from the dead. I know, so many questions, right?

Saul asks, “What’s his appearance?” She tells him: old man, coming up, wrapped in a robe. It’s enough to let Saul know: “it was Samuel” (v.14.) He bows with his face to the ground to pay homage.

Is all of this actually happening? And, wasn’t this forbidden? What in the world is going on?! A couple of notes — yes, I think it was actually happening. A plain reading of the text doesn’t seem to indicate that this is anything other than an actual occurence. With that, we might ask…can you do that? Like, is all of this even possible? Davis points out that Scripture never describes these practices like these as impossible, only pagan. God forbids them because they’re wicked and demonic, not because they’re not real. Following up on that…wasn’t it forbidden? Absolutely, we just noted why. It’s demonic and wicked. But, Saul still did it. There is a sobering reminder that there are many things God forbids because it is harmful and, sometimes, downright wicked. That didn’t always stop Israel, and it doesn’t always stop us. God help us!

Back to the story. How does it all play out? Samuel wants to know why he’s been disturbed, and Saul says it’s because God is silent. YHWH won’t speak to him anymore. Saul’s line of reasoning appears to be: I know God spoke clearly to you, and you relayed His message to me. Please, I need to know what to do.

Samuel’s reply is simply to reiterate what God had already said. God is your enemy, Saul. He’s torn the kingdom from your hand. YOU didn’t listen to His word before, so you’re certainly not getting it now. The kingdom belongs to David now. This is your end — “tomorrow you and your sons shall be with me,” dead in the grave (v.15-19).

At the news, Saul falls out, “filled with fear” and his strength completely left him. The devastating news coupled with the fact that he hadn’t “eaten…all day and all night,” and it was too much (v.20). The woman comes to Saul and, seeing him terrified, basically says, “Hey, i’ve done what you asked. I risked my life for you. I obeyed you. Now, you need to listen to me. I’m going to make a meal for you and you need to eat.” (v.21-22).

Saul initially refuses, but the woman and his servants press the matter until he relents (v.23). She puts before him a spread fit for a king: fattened calf and unleavened bread, and they all ate (v.24). When they finished, the went away into the night (v.25).

So, what do we walk away with from this strange passage? Is there something more than Saul didn’t hear from the Lord, sought a medium to contact the dead, and that’s real and wicked so don’t do it? Let’s consider the following thoughts.

Being abandoned by God is the most hopeless of miseries

The most sobering line in the entire text is verse 15, where Saul confirms his miserable state:

1 Samuel 28:15 “…God has turned away from me and answers me no more…”

As Israel prepares for battle, her king should expect direction from YHWH. However, all Saul hears is the battle cry and the machines of war from the Philistine lines — no longer the voice of God. As he draws up for battle, knowing that his time is short, he faces it with deafening silence of God ringing in his ear.

What has brought about this harsh verdict? Saul refused to listen when YHWH did speak (chpt.15).

The text gives us quite the stern and clear warning — listen to God lest we lose the ability to hear His voice. But surely this is an OT reality and no longer an option for NT believers who are indwelt by God’s Spirit. Maybe, but here’s my caution.

Don’t use the Spirit’s presence for an excuse to disobey. Much like those who would rob grace of beauty and use it as a license to sin, we should not use our security as an opportunity of disobedience and hard-heartedness.

We are called to be filled with the Spirit, that is, to let the Spirit have the controlling stake in our lives. However, if we are hard-hearted to the Spirit’s leadership, we will become numb to His proddings. If we continually grieve and quench the Spirit’s work, how can we expect to be led in all things by the Spirit? Why does Paul commend to us the need to keep our minds focused on the Spirit rather than the flesh?

This passage is a sober warning: it is a terrifying thing for a hard to heart to lose it’s ability to listen to God.

Suffering is lightened when we see them in context

Biblically, this episode isn’t an isolated event. It happens within the larger context of 1 Samuel, and the author, under the Spirit’s guidance, has written this text exactly how and exactly where God desired.

Remember that the author played a mean little trick on us last week. We go right up to the point of David’s conundrum, and then the scene changed. We’re thinking, “Oh my goodness, how will David get out of this mess,” tension completely in place, and it switches to an entirely different episode. Who cares about Saul?!

I remember the first time I felt this art in story-telling. I was watching “The Two Towers,” and Peter Jackson did a masterful job of sucking you into Frodo and Sam’s plight, bringing you to the edge of your seat before switching to Merry and Pippin being carried on the Ents on the road to Isengard. Then, you’re transported again to Aragorn and company before Edoras, awaiting the decision from the possessed king. I remember thinking, watching the movie in the theatres, “I forgot that was even going on!”

If we’re not careful, we’ll forget what’s going on in the bigger context. And, the author has done it on purpose. The writer actually reverses the chronological order, and we have to ask ourselves, “Why?”

Here’s what the author seems to be implying: at the moment he interrupts the story, there’s something of greater importance, a issue at stake. In so doing, he places David’s dilemma against Saul’s, and we’re meant to read them side-by-side. In so doing, the writer says to us that there is something far more terrifying than being caught between the Philistines and your country — it’s the loss of all communion with God. Contextually, the author emphasizes our first point: there is nothing in this life so miserable than to find God silent and removed in our moments of greatest need.

Does this not put David’s trial in perspective? Yes, David’s plight is terrible, absolutely. He’s caught among the enemies of Israel…the enemies of God. But, Saul finds himself removed from the presence of God altogether. So Davis says, “Burdens appear lighter when seen in their proper context.”

The writer is not belittling our struggles. He’s only encouraging us to put our trials in context. I’m not sure what trial you walked in with this morning. I don’t know all of the difficulties. Raw deal at work? Difficult boss? At a loss with your children? Medical difficulties and uncertainties? Relationship issues? Don’t know which fork in the road to take? What college to attend? What degree to pursue? To buy a car or fix an old one?

There is a balm that heals our hurting souls: hope. It’s secured through the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus. Our forever is settled if we place faith in Him. And this, our salvation, it allows us to say come what may, I’ll be alright, because the most terrifying proposition of all, to be cut off from God, has been settled.

We must keep our burdens in perspective. For the believer, they are momentary light afflictions preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison (2 Cor.4:17).

We can misdirect our spiritual desperation

Out of desperation, Saul seeks out this medium, and to even get there, he had to work himself around the Philistine camp. It wasn’t even a straight shot. And the goal of his desperation? The last part of verse 15 tells us — he wants Samuel to tell him what to do.

He was spiritually desperate, but he was misdirected. The fact that he was on the wrong track is at least implied by Samuel’s response: why ask me when God has turned from you and become your enemy (v.16). If there was a path for Saul to take, surely it was repentance and seeking the face of God, not engaging in an outlawed practice to inquire of a prophet who had passed away. You see, Saul’s great need was not information — it was presence…communion…relationship. He wanted advice, but he needed God, so it seems as if the results of relationship were desired more than the presence of God’s person. Or, it could be that he’s simply resigned himself to this fate in life, but in a last-ditch effort to save his life, he’s looking for a little something. I’m not sure.

To tackle this, we see Saul’s response. God won’t speak? No worries, I’ll ask someone to raise Samuel’s spirit from beyond the grave and he’ll tell me what to do. I guess that’s door number one.

Door number two? Consider the words of David in Psalm 13. “How long will you forget me? Forever? How long will you look the other way?” Clearly, he finds himself in desperation, feeling forsaken and forgotten by God. So, He seeks God. Terrified that the presence of God is gone, David instinctively turns to God and complains to God about being forsaken by God. Believers plead with God to answer (Ps.13:3). They understand this fundamental truth, expressed by Peter for the disciples: John 6:68 “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life…”

Here’s the point: when faced with the silence of God, feeling like He’s a million miles away, are we more concerned with guidance or the One who gives it? Because if we’re in that position, chances are, we’re finally crying out in desperation. Only, make sure we’re desperate for Him, not just what He gives.

There is a light that sines in the darkness

As with much of Scripture, there are connections and foreshadowings and hints and pointers tucked away throughout it all.

Again, Saul is not long for this life. So, this lady, this witch of En-dor, she prepares him one last meal. He eats, and then he heads off into the night.

We may not see it at first, but this isn’t the last time a rebel finishes his supper and heads off into the night. Is the scene coming back to you yet? When Judas take the morsel from Jesus, immediately goes out, “and it was night.” Yes, Judas went into the night.

But, again, there was another. It wasn’t just Judas, but our Lord Himself.

Mark 15:33–34 “And when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?””

Be careful of making the mistake that much of today’s passage doesn’t relate to you. Beware of saying, “I’m not David, and I’m not Saul. I’m a NT christian, so what does any of this have to do with me, anyway?” Be cautious to not think that we’re better, not as prone to foolishness, and deserving better than Saul…or Judas for that matter.

Instead, remember that the glory of the gospel is the fact that Jesus went into the night on our behalf, into the darkness, to cry a lament much like Saul’s — God has turned away from me (v.15).

On Calvary’s Hill, God’s own Son, Jesus our Savior, walked into the darkness for us that we may walk in the light of life.

The question then is this: have we sought the One who endured the darkness on our behalf?

The text ends, “Then they rose and went away that night.” But the final word is this: but there is a light that shines in the darkest of nights.