Saul and the Savior

Fifteen minutes before a meeting

I have a few minutes free, and so I wanted to blog a bit about what struck me recently when I was reading about the old Hebrew people in the ancient land of Israel.  These stories often strike me as somewhat fantastical, other-worldly tales, the sort that one would expect to get from a novel by Lewis or Tolkien, where mythical kings with very small armies somehow triumph gloriously over the extremely powerful and evil kings of some dark evil world.  But assuming that the reader believes in a literal God-being that governs the events of the world, the stories of the old Jews make it easy to see how He used the events of the world to show future generations something about Himself.  

Take, for example, the particular part that I was reading, found in I Samuel 15-16.  It is mainly about the king, Saul, at the end of his reign, and how he is basically experiencing his demise.  Several chapters earlier the author introduced us to Saul and Samuel, our other-worldly “Gandolf”-like character, who announces God’s anointing of Saul as king, and years later is constantly distraught because of Saul’s missteps.  Samuel is, I think, the most interesting of characters, as he literally brings God’s words to the people of Israel after spending time in God’s presence.  Visions dance in my mind of an wise, white-bearded man in a flowing robe, his face shining radiant as he comes down from a mountain-top meeting with the Spirit of God.  He knew God as well as anyone could, and he loved God – so much that chapter 15 says he literally sat up and cried all night when he learned of the things that Saul did which were displeasing to God.  

The character of Samuel is contrasted throughout the first half of the book with that of Saul, as Saul just doesn’t understand the things he should be dealing with as king.  He relates to God – and to Samuel – as if he were a confused, embarrassed housedog, tail between his legs, running around and doing things that he thinks will make his masters smile.  He treats God and Samuel like machines more than people, trying to find the right “formula” to feed into them so that they will stop being so displeased with him.  

For Samuel, watching Saul bumble around as king must have been like an American trying to watch a modern President who does only what he thinks others will like.  This isn’t a man relating to a person – it’s a man who is just doing what he thinks will not offend.  There is conviction in relationships; there is passion in knowing another.  But in Saul, there was neither conviction nor passion – only fear.  Perhaps I too am sometimes just like this ancient king who didn’t understand what God was trying to show him.  I pray that I won’t be so.