SAMUEL - Week 5

This week, I want to look at one of the more bizarre stories in the Old Testament.

Which, given some of the stories floating around, is saying something!

Among our reading this week was chapter 28, which is about an encounter between Saul, the ‘Necromancer of Endor’ and a dead Samuel.

But before we get to that, I want to look at some sneaky bits that we might miss, revealing some of the stitching together of different traditions.

Chapter 27 tells of David fleeing from Saul to the land of the Philistines, specifically to King Achish. We’re told he ends up living there for one year and four months (27:7). Is this ringing any bells?

“David rose and fled that day from Saul; he went to King Achish of Gath.” 1 Samuel 21:10

“David said in his heart, ‘I shall now perish one day by the hand of Saul; there is nothing better for me than to escape to the land of the Philistines…’” 1 Samuel 27:1

In Chapter 21, David is afraid of Achish and so pretends to be mad in order to escape again. We’re told he returned to Adullam (some translations say cave, but some scholars suggest this is an error and should be understood as stronghold, which makes more sense in the story’s context).

In Chapter 27, however, David is acting as a mercenary, a soldier for hire, on behalf of the Philistines. These are the sworn enemies of the Israelites, and yet David was working for them. David, it seems, picks off tribes within Judah, satisfying Achish, whilst not killing Israelite groups.

You might also have spotted the ‘Amalekites’ pop up. If you were at Resound on Sunday, you will have heard Philippa talk about 1 Samuel 15, where we’re told Saul kills all of the Amalekites besides King Agag.

This, then, is an inconsistency.

Either Saul wiped them all out, or David did. These two stories don’t work side by side.

More confusing still is that the Amalekites show up again in chapter 30. Apparently, no one has wiped these guys out!

One suggestion for these two accounts of David’s interactions with Achish is one that I’ve mentioned before- that of a dual tradition of David. Some stories about David particularly lend themselves to his celebration as a great leader, whilst others are less concerned with their portrayal. One argument is that one tradition attempts to legitimise David’s kingship. For example, in David’s initial interactions with Saul, we have one story about being brought in as a musician to help with Saul’s evil spirits/ mental illness (16:21) and another about him joining his brothers on the battle field and killing Goliath, within which Saul appears not to know David but then takes him for his own (17:55-18:2).

Whilst an alternative theory of David as a form of ‘warlord’ (I wrote a little bit about this a few weeks back)  lines up well with Chapter 27 onwards, and with that refrain about ‘Saul has killed his thousands, and David his ten thousands’, this chapter also appears to stem from a tradition which makes David a hero figure. He has gone across enemy lines as a double agent and earned the trust of the enemy king.

What that narrative lacks, however, is that moment of betrayal. David doesn’t do anything whilst in position to weaken the Philistines or King Achish.

When the Philistines eventually fight Israel (David isn’t allowed to fight-29:7), they destroy them and kill Saul’s sons. This makes way for David to be anointed as King (2 Sam 2).

So, some peculiarities in these different stories. No easy answers about how we should understand David here, but definitely some bits to consider.

What, then, about this Necromancer of Endor?

We aren’t told much about the practice of necromancy in this context, but we are told that Saul had expelled the mediums and wizards from the land (28:3). My study bible footnote helpful describes mediums and wizards as people who communicated with the dead, and that it was forbidden (Lev 19:31, 20:6, 20:27 and Deut 18:10.)

So, it was forbidden to do it, forbidden to go to visit one, and Saul had himself acted against the wizards and mediums. And yet, Saul, in a low moment, feeling rejected by God, seeks to find a medium. He is pointed in the direction of a woman who, in Biblical studies, becomes known as the ‘Witch of Endor’ or ‘Necromancer of Endor’. (The Hebrew language has a word for Witch, which is not the word used here. Plus Witches used different methods- potions etc- so the name Witch of Endor isn’t accurate at all really. Most bibles will say Necromancer or Medium.)

Now, we probably shouldn’t be too quick to judge Saul for this- Samuel doesn’t appear to either.

Despite appearances, it is known that the practice of communication with the Dead was a common practice in the time in which the story is set. The King going to see a medium or necromancer should not necessarily be a shock – there was an established ‘cult of the dead’ in that culture, where this idea was normal.

But why does the text say it was banned?

Long story short, there is a view that the book of Samuel may have been written or edited during the reign of King Josiah (640–609 BCE). Josiah was remembered as a King who undertook many religious reforms. He abolished worship at local shrines and centralised worship in Jerusalem (2 Kings 23). He lead a national covenant renewal ceremony (2 Kings 23:1–3).

It is possible, if not probable, that these reforms in the time of Josiah, also saw an end to the practice of necromancy.

What we could be seeing in the text, then, is an indication of the views of the writers/editors in Josiah’s time or after, imprinted on an older story. The citations from Leviticus suggest that these concerns about wizards and mediums were around before Josiah, but Josianic-era editors may have highlighted or shaped this story to further underline Saul’s disobedience and legitimate Josiah’s own reforms.

As for the story itself, the only outworking of this banishing of such people is that Saul has to go in disguise.

For those who didn’t read this chapter, the condensed version of events is that the Necromancer successfully summons Samuel, who is unhappy to be disturbed and then basically says that what he had warned Saul about was happening. God was taking away his power and giving it to David. Not just that, but that Saul and his sons would all die the next day… Saul is understandably distressed by this conversation!

I have two takeaways from this passage.

First is the usual ‘critical reading’ reminder that we can be fairly confident that this story is not intended to be a historical account. Within the story, the necromancy is effective. It works. That does not, however, mean that we should take at face value the idea that this means of talking with the dead is authentic and reliable. Certainly, historically this practice was common enough that people must have got something out of these interactions, and presumably they believed that the necromancers could communicate with the dead.

We shouldn’t, I don’t think, worry too much about this in our world. Nor should we use this passage as some kind of proof for the efficacy of mediums etc.

But the real heart of this story, beneath the drama, is Saul’s unbearable silence.

 Not the silence of the dead, but the silence of God.

“When Saul inquired of the Lord, the Lord did not answer him, not by dreams, nor by Urim, nor by prophets” (1 Samuel 28:6, NRSV).

This is what drives him to Endor. Not curiosity. Not dabbling. Desperation. The tragedy is that Saul, once anointed, once filled with the Spirit, now finds himself cut off from the very voice he needs.

This isn’t a story about how dangerous mediums are - it’s a story about what happens when we’ve hardened ourselves for so long that, even when we finally want to listen, God has gone quiet.

It’s deeply uncomfortable, theologically speaking, but that’s sort of the point.

Saul seeks a word and all he gets is confirmation that he’s already chosen his ending. He’s not condemned for visiting a necromancer.

He’s condemned because he stopped listening to God a long time before.