SAUL AT ENDOR.
1Sa 28:3-25.
FOR a considerable time Saul had been drifting along like a crippled
vessel at sea, a melancholy example of a man forsaken of God. But as
his decisive encounter with the Philistines drew on, the state of
helplessness to which he had been reduced became more apparent than
ever. He had sagacity enough to perceive that the expedition which
the Philistines were now leading against him was the most formidable
that had ever taken place in his day. It was no ordinary battle that
was to be fought; it was one that would decide the fate of the
country. The magnitude of the expedition on his part is apparent
from an expression in the fourth verse - ''Saul gathered all Israel
together." The place of encounter was not any of the old battle-
fields with the Philistines. Usually the engagements had taken place
in some of the valleys that ran down from the territories of Dan, or
Benjamin, or Judah into the Philistine plain, or on the heights
above these. But such places were comparatively contracted, and did
not afford scope for great bodies of troops. This time the
Philistines chose a wider and more commanding battle-field.
Advancing northwards along their own maritime plain, and beyond it
along the plain of Sharon, they turned eastwards into the great
plain of Esdraelon or Jezreel, and occupied the northern side of the
plain. The troops of Saul were encamped on the southern side,
occupying the northern slope of Mount Gilboa. There the two armies
faced each other, the wide plain stretching between.
It was a painful moment for Saul when he got his first view of the
Philistine host, for the sight of it filled him with consternation.
It would appear to have surpassed that of Israel very greatly in
numbers, in resources, as it certainly did in its confident spirit.
Yet, if Saul had been a man of faith, none of these things would
have moved him. Was it not in that very neighbourhood that Barak,
with his hasty levies, had inflicted a signal defeat on the
Canaanites? And was it not in that very plain that the hosts of
Midian lay encamped in the days of Gideon, when the barley cake
rolling into their camp overturned and terrified the host, and a
complete discomfiture followed? Why should not the Lord work as
great a deliverance now? If God was with them. He was more than all
that could be against them. Might not this be another of the days
foretold by Moses, when one should chase a thousand, and two put ten
thousand to flight?
Yes, if God was with them. All turned upon that if. And Saul felt
that God was not with them, and that they could not count on any
such deliverance as, in better times, had been vouchsafed to their
fathers.
And why, O Saul, when you felt thus, did you not humble yourself
before God, confess all your sins, and implore Him to show you
mercy? Why did you not cry, "Return, O Lord, how long? And let it
repent Thee concerning Thy servants"? Would you have found God
inexorable? Would His ear have been heavy that it could not hear?
Don't you remember how Moses said that when Israel, in sore bondage,
should cry humbly to God, the Lord would hear his cry, and have
mercy on him? Why, O Saul, do you not fall in the dust before Him?
Somehow Saul felt that he could not. Among other effects of sin and
rebellion, one of the worst is a stiffening of the soul, making it
hard and rigid, so that it cannot bend, it cannot melt, it cannot
change its course. The long career of willfulness that Saul had
followed had produced in him this stiffening effect; his spirit was
hardened in its own ways, and incapable of all exercise of
contrition or humiliation, or anything essentially different from
the course he had been following. There are times in the life of a
deeply afflicted woman when the best thing she could do would be to
weep, but that is just the thing she cannot do. There are times when
the best thing an inveterate sinner could do would be to fling
himself before God and sob for mercy, but fling himself before God
and sob he cannot. Saul was incapable of that exercise of soul which
would have saved him and his people. Most terrible effect of
cherished sin! It dries up the fountains of contrition and they will
not flow. It stiffens the knees and they will not bend. It paralyses
the voice and it will not cry. It blinds the eyes and they see not
the Saviour. It closes the ears and the voice of mercy is unheard.
It drives the distressed one to wells without water, to refuges of
lies, to trees twice dead, to physicians who have no medicines, to
gods who have no salvation; all he feels is that his case is
desperate, and yet somewhere or other he must have help!
Saul did not neglect the outward means by which in other days God
had been accustomed to direct the nation. He tried every authorized
way he could think of for getting guidance from above. He believed
in a heavenly power, and he asked its guidance and its help But God
took no notice of him. He answered him neither by dreams, nor by
Urim, nor by prophets. Men, though in heart rebellious against God's
will, will go through a great deal of mechanical service in the hope
of securing His favour. It is not their muscles that get stiffened,
but their souls. What a strange conception they must have of God
when they fancy that mere external services will please Him! How
little Saul knew of God when he supposed that, overlooking all the
rebellion of his heart, God would respond to a mechanical effort or
efforts to communicate with Him! Don't you know, O Saul, that your
iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins
have hid His face from you that He will not hear? Nothing will have
the least effect on Him till you own your sin. "I will go and return
unto My place, until they acknowledge their offence and seek My
face." And this is just what you will not, cannot do I How
infinitely precious would one tear of genuine repentance have been
in that dark hour! It would have saved thousands of the Israelites
from a bloody death; it would have saved the nation from defeat and
humiliation; it would have removed the obstacle to fellowship with
the Hope of Israel, who would have stood true to His ancient
character, - "the Saviour thereof in time of trouble."
But Saul's day of grace was over, and accordingly we find him driven
to the most humbling expedient to which a man can stoop - seeking
counsel from a quarter against which, in his more prosperous days,
he had directed his special energies, as a superstitious,
demoralizing agency. He had been most zealous in exterminating a
class of persons, abounding in Eastern countries, who pretend to
know the secrets of the future, and to have access to the
inhabitants of the unseen world. Little could he have dreamt in
those days of fiery zeal that a time would come when he would
rejoice to learn that one poor wretch had escaped the vigilance of
his officers, and still carried on, or pretended to carry on, a
nefarious traffic with the realms of the departed! It shows how
little man is acquainted with the inner feelings of other men - how
little he knows even himself. Doubtless he thought, in the days of
exterminating zeal, that it was sheer folly and driveling
superstition that encouraged these sorcerers, and that by clearing
them away he would be ridding the land of a mass of rubbish that
could be of service to no one. He did not consider that there are
times of wretchedness and despair when the soul that knows not God
will seek counsel even of men with a familiar spirit - he little
dreamt that such would be the case with himself. "Is thy servant a
dog that he should do this thing?" he would have asked with great
indignation in those early days, if it had been insinuated that he
would ever be tempted to resort to such counselors. "What better
could I ever be of anything they could tell me? Surely it would be
wiser to meet any conceivable danger full in the face than to seek
after such counsel as they could give!" He did not consider that
when man's spirit is overwhelmed within him, and his craving for
help is like the passion of a madman, he will clutch like a drowning
man at a straw, he will even resort to a woman with a familiar
spirit, if, peradventure, some hint can be got to extricate him from
his misery.
But to this complexion it came at last. With dreadful sacrifice of
self-respect, Saul had to ask his advisers to seek out for him a
woman of this description. They were able to tell him of such a
woman residing at Endor, about ten miles from where they were. With
two attendants he set out after nightfall, disguised, and found her.
Naturally, she was afraid to do anything in the way of business in
the face of such measures as the king had taken against all of her
craft, nor would she stir until she had got a solemn promise that
she would not be molested in any way. Then, when all was ready, she
asked whom she should call up. "Call up Samuel," said Saul. To the
great astonishment of the woman herself, she sees Samuel rising up.
A shriek from her indicates that she is as much astonished and for
the moment frightened as anyone can be. Evidently she did not expect
such an apparition. The effect was much too great for the cause. She
sees that in this apparition a power is concerned much beyond what
she can wield. Instinctively she apprehends that the only man of
importance enough to receive such a supernatural visit must be the
head of the nation. "Why did you deceive me?" she said, ''for thou
art Saul." "Nevermind that," is virtually Saul's reply; "but tell me
what you have seen." The Revised Version gives her answer better
than the older one "I saw a god arise out of the earth." "What is
his appearance?" earnestly asks Saul. "He is an old man, and he is
covered with a mantle." And Saul sees that it is really Samuel.
But what was it that really happened, and how did it come about?
That the woman was able, even if she really had the aid of evil
spirits, to bring Samuel into Saul's presence were cannot believe.
Nor could she believe it herself. If Samuel really appeared - and
the narrative assumes that he did - it must have been by a direct
miracle, God supernaturally clothing his spirit in something like
its old form, and bringing him back to earth to speak to Saul. In
judgment it seemed good to God to let Saul have his desire, and to
give him a real interview with Samuel. "He gave him his request, but
sent leanness to his soul." So far from having his fears allayed and
his burden removed, Saul was made to see from Samuel's communication
that there was nothing but ruin before him; and he must have gone
back to the painful duty of the morrow staggering under a load
heavier than before.
Samuel begins the conversation; and he does so by reproaching Saul
for having disquieted him, and brought him back from his peaceful
home above to mingle again in the strife and turmoil of human
things. Nothing can exceed the haggard and weird desolation of
Saul's answer. "I am sore distressed; for the Philistines make war
against me, and God is departed from me and answereth me no more,
neither by prophets nor by dreams: therefore I have called thee,
that thou mayest make known unto me what I shall do." Was ever a
king in such a plight? Who would have thought, when Samuel and Saul
first came together, and Saul listened so respectfully to the
prophet counseling him concerning the kingdom, that their last
meeting should be like this? In all Saul's statement there is no
word that carries such a load of meaning and of despair as this -
"God is departed from me." It is the token of universal confusion
and calamity. And Saul felt it, and as no one understood these
things like Samuel, he had sought Samuel to counsel his wayward son,
to tell him what to do.
It is not every sinner that makes the discovery in this life what
awful results follow when God is departed from him. But if the
discovery does not dawn on one in this life, it will come on him
with overwhelming force in the life to come. Men little think what
they are preparing for themselves when they say to God, "Depart from
us, for we desire not the knowledge of Thy ways." The service of God
is irksome; the restraints of God's law are distressing; they like a
free life, freedom to please themselves. And so they part company
with God. The form of Divine service may be kept up or it may not:
but God is not their God, and God's will is not their rule. They
have left God's ways, they have followed their own. And when
conscience has sometimes given them a twinge, when God has reminded
them by the silent monitor of His claims, their answer has been, Let
us alone, what have we to do with Thee? Depart from us, leave us in
peace. Ah! how little have you considered that the most awful thing
that could happen to you is just for God to depart from you! If we
could conceive the earth a sensitive being, and somehow to get a
dislike for the sun, and to pray the sun to depart from her, how
awful would be the fulfillment! Losing all the genial influences
that brighten her surface, that cover her face with beauty and
enrich her soil with abundance, all the foul and slimy creatures of
darkness would creep out, all the noxious influences of dissolution
and death would riot in their terrible freedom! And is not this but
a poor faint picture of man forsaken by God! O sinner, if ever thy
wish should be fulfilled, how wilt thou curse the day in which thou
didst utter it! When vile lusts rise to uncontrollable authority-
when those whom you love turn hopelessly wicked, when you find
yourselves joyless, helpless, hopeless, when you try to repent and
cannot repent, when you try to pray and cannot pray, when you try to
be pure and cannot be pure - what a terrible calamity you will then
feel it that God is departed from you! Trifle not, O man, with thy
relation to God; and let not thy history be such that it shall have
to be written in the words of the prophet - "But they rebelled and
vexed His Holy Spirit; therefore He was turned to be their enemy and
He fought against them" (Isa 63:10).
There was no comfort for Saul in Samuel's reply, but much the
contrary. Why should he have asked advice of the Lord's servant,
when he owned that he was forsaken by the Lord Himself? What could
the servant do for him if the Master was become his enemy? What can
a priest or a minister do for any man if God has turned His face
away from him? Can he make God deny Himself, and become favourable
to one who has scorned or sinned away His Holy Spirit? Saul was
experiencing no more than he had just reason to expect since that
fatal day when he had first deliberately set up his own will above
God's will in the affair of Amalek. In the course which he began
then, he had persistently continued, and God was now just executing
the threatenings which Saul had braved. And next day would witness
the last of his sad history. The Lord would deliver Israel into the
hands of the Philistines; in the collision of the armies he and his
sons would be slain; disaster to his arms, death to himself, and
destruction to his dynasty would all come together on that miserable
day.
It is no wonder that Saul was utterly prostrated: "He fell
straightway all along on the earth, and was sore afraid, because of
the words of Samuel; and there was no strength in him; for he had
eaten no bread all the day, nor all the night." He could not have
expected that the interview with Samuel would be a pleasant one, but
he never imagined that it would announce such awful calamities. Have
you not known sometimes the terrible sensation when you had heard
there was something wrong with some of your friends, and on going to
inquire, discovered that the calamity was infinitely worse than you
had ever dreamt of? A momentary paralysis comes over one; you are
stunned and made helpless by the tidings. We may even be tempted to
think that surely Samuel was too hard on Saul; might he not have
tempered his awful message by some qualifying word of hope and
mercy? The answer is, Samuel spoke the truth, the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth. We are all prone to the thought that when
evil men get their doom there will surely be something to modify or
mitigate its rigour. Samuel's words to Saul indicate no such
relaxation. Moral law will vindicate itself as natural law
vindicates itself - "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also
reap."
The last incident in the chapter is interesting and pleasing. We
might have thought that such a calling as that followed by the witch
of Endor would have destroyed all the humanities in her nature; that
she would have looked on the king's distress with a cold, stoical
eye, and that her only concern would be to obtain for herself a fee
adapted to the occasion. But she shows much of the woman left in her
after all. When she rehearses her service, and the peril of her life
at which it has been rendered, to prepare the way for her asking a
favour, the favour which she does ask is not for herself at all, -
it is on Saul's own behalf, that she might be permitted the honour
of preparing for him a meal. Saul's mind is too much occupied and
too much agitated to care for anything of the kind. Still prostrate
on the ground he says, "I will not eat." Men overwhelmed by calamity
hate to eat, they are too excited to experience hunger. It was only
when his servants, thinking how much he had gone through already,
how much more he had to go through on the morrow, and how utterly
unfit his exhausted body was for the strain - it was then only that
he yielded to the request of the woman. And the woman showed that,
for all her sinister business, she was equal to the occasion of
entertaining a king. The "fat calf in the house" corresponded to the
"fatted calf" in the parable of the prodigal son. It was not the
custom even in families of the richer class to eat meat at ordinary
meals; it was reserved for feasts and extraordinary occasions; and
in order to be ready for any emergency a calf was kept close to the
house, whose flesh, from the delicate way in which it was reared and
fed, was tender enough to be served even at so hasty a meal. With
cakes of unleavened bread, this dish could be presented very
rapidly, and, unlike the hasty meals which are common among us, was
really a more substantial and nourishing entertainment than
ordinary. It is touching to mark these traces of womanly feeling in
this unhappy being, reminding us of the redeeming features of Rahab
the harlot. What effect the whole transaction had on the woman we
are not told, and it would be vain to conjecture.
And now Saul retraces his dark and dreary way southward to the
heights of Gilboa, We can hardly exaggerate his miserable condition.
He had much to think of, and he would have needed a clear, unclouded
mind. We can think of him only as miserably distracted, and unable
to let his mind settle on anything. It would have needed his utmost
resources to arrange for the battle of to-morrow, a battle in which
he knew that defeat was coming, but which he might endeavour,
nevertheless, to make as little disastrous as possible. Moreover, he
knew it was to be the last day of his life, and troubled thoughts
could not but steal in on him as to what should happen when he stood
before God. No doubt, too, there were many sad thoughts about his
sons, who were to be involved in the same fate as himself. Was there
no way of saving any of them? The arrangement of his temporal
effects, too, would claim attention, for, restless and excitable as
he had been, it was not likely that his private affairs would be in
very good order. Anon his thoughts might wander back to his first
interview with Samuel, and bitter remorse would send its pang
through him as he thought how differently he might have left the
kingdom if he had faithfully followed the counsels of the prophet.
Possibly amid all these gloomy thoughts one thought of a brighter
order might steal into his mind - how thoroughly David, who would
come to the throne after him, would retrieve his errors and restore
prosperity, and make the kingdom what it had never been under him, a
model kingdom, worthy to shadow forth the glories of Messiah's
coming reign. Poor distracted man, he was little fitted either to
fight a battle with the Philistines or to encounter the last enemy
on his own account. What a lesson to be prepared beforehand! On a
deathbed, especially a sudden one, distractions can hardly fail to
visit us - this thing and the ether thing needing to be arranged and
thought of. Happy they who at such a moment can say, "I am now ready
to depart." "Into Thy hands I commend my spirit, for Thou hast
redeemed me, O Lord God of truth."
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