First United Methodist Church, Birmingham, Michigan
Scripture: I Samuel: 28:3-19
Desperation makes people do funny things. Desperation makes some people sweat and swear. It makes other people shake and scream. In response to desperation, some people flee while other people fight. A few react by killing others. While others react by killing themselves. I have known desperate people to reach for things like a bottle, a capsule, or a body to hold in the night. Sometimes desperate people reach for God, albeit often as a last resort.
“Desperation” is a funny word. It sounds urgent….immediate….dramatic. It has a “right now” ring of intensity to it. But the root word of “desperation” is “despair.” Despair does not sound urgent at all. Despair sounds slow and quiet. People talk about “sinking into despair,” inviting us to picture them in slow-acting quicksand, being sucked below the surface of normality a couple of inches at a time.
As Exhibit A, I give you Saul, a suddenly desperate man, but one who has been despairing for a long time. When we meet up with him in this morning’s text, we find him riding the “down escalator” of life. He is on his way out….out of favor….out of power….out of options….and almost out of days. His star is burning out. David’s star is rising up. Several floors back, their escalators passed, with David’s ascending and Saul’s descending. History doesn’t record if either waved.
Why can’t people stay on top? Why is there always someone better, brighter, faster, fairer or younger in the wings? Put this on the list of perplexing questions you are planning to ponder when you retire. All we know is that Saul’s confidence is shot. But he’s far from the first one. It happens lots of times….to lots of people….in lots of places. Even in the suburbs. It is a myth that people who live in the suburbs “have it all together.” ‘Tis not necessarily so. Despair is no respecter of subdivisions. After all, Saul lived in a big house. Kings usually do.
But we need to back up a bit. A little stage setting would seem to be in order. After all, who is Saul and why should we care? Saul is the first great king of Israel. But since great kings, like a lot of other things, come in threes, we seldom hear Saul’s name mentioned by itself. He is always referred to as part of a trio (Saul, David and Solomon). Strangely enough, although page after page of the Old Testament is devoted to Saul, we don’t know many factual things about him. We do not know the length of Saul’s reign, the dates of Saul’s reign, or how old Saul was when he began to reign. An educated guess suggests that he reigned at least 20 years and died about 1000 B.C. His public life began with great promise. He possessed all of the physical and moral attributes of a king. We are told he had an imposingly-large physique (the more I read about Saul, the more I picture Kirk Gibson, albeit with a better beard). Saul had initiative. Saul had courage. Saul had charisma. But, best of all, Saul had “the spirit of the Lord mightily upon him.” (I Sam. 11:6)
Which was a good thing, considering the obstacles in Saul’s path. In terms of governance, there was no central monarchy prior to Saul. The Israelite confederacy was at a critically low ebb. Israel was ruled by a collection of regional judges, divided by tribal loyalties and awash in political jealousies. Picture county executives, if it helps you. But the weakness of Israel from within was small potatoes compared with Israel’s vulnerability to attack from without. That’s because Saul had to put up with the Philistines who opposed him, outnumbered him, and forced his minimal army to go into battle with unsharpened weapons. Which is a great story (I Sam. 13:19), but irrelevant to my purpose here.
Still, Saul prevailed, delivering Israel out of the hands of those who plundered her (I Sam. 14:47). But then Saul made his tragic mistake. And let me warn you, this will show you how unbelievably primitive this story really is. Following a victorious battle against the Amelekites, Saul failed to observe an ancient practice among the Hebrews known as the “Herem.” This practice required that every last vestige of a defeated enemy be destroyed on the spot. This was to be done as an act of devotion to God. Apparently, Saul went into battle against the people of Amelek. He was victorious. And he killed virtually all of the people. But Saul spared the life of the Amelekite king. He also spared the best of the sheep, goats and cattle. As his reward for being merciful to the enemy, he was deemed unfit to be king, and it was announced that God’s favoritism was being removed from Saul. Having disobeyed God’s command to slaughter everything in sight, God’s spirit would no longer “rest mightily upon him.” Instead, God’s spirit would come to rest upon the shoulders of another.
Who said so? Samuel said so. And who was Samuel? Well, it would appear that Samuel was a little bit of a lot of things. He was a busybody who also fancied himself as a king-maker. In terms of self-identification, he sometimes called himself a prophet, sometimes a priest, and still other times a seer. But he always seemed to know what God was thinking. What’s more, he was not terribly shy about telling people what God was thinking. The amazing thing was that people listened. And so when Samuel said that you were on God’s blacklist, the effect of his pronouncement was to make it so. Why? Because Samuel said it, that’s why. Which was the turning point for Saul. It was all downhill from there. To be sure, Saul continued on as king until his death. But from Samuel’s pronouncement forward, he was not only in the process of losing his kingdom, but he stood in the tragic awareness that he had already lost.
Enter David. Samuel privately found him, privately anointed him, and privately bestowed God’s blessing upon him. Then he publicly announced to anyone and everyone that the spirit of the Lord had departed from Saul and come to rest upon David. Worse yet, Samuel announced that the Lord had sent another spirit to Saul….an evil spirit….for the purpose of tormenting him. But the bitter irony was this. This man upon whom God’s spirit now rested….this David….this rising one…. this one waiting in the wings for Saul’s job….had a special gift that could soothe Saul’s troubled spirit. Which was why David was brought into the service of Saul, and why “Saul loved him greatly.” We read:
And whenever the evil spirit was upon Saul, David took the lyre and played it with his hands. Whereupon Saul was refreshed and the evil spirit fled him for awhile.
And from this point forward, the historian tells the story in ways that are meant to build David up while tearing Saul down. We are told that David is “ruddy,” “handsome,” and that he has “beautiful eyes.” The Hebrew will even allow for a translation that reads “bedroom eyes” (which will become important in a subsequent story). Furthermore, we read that David is “skilled at music….a genius at justice….prudent in speech….a man of good presence….and a man of valor in war.” Apparently, there is nothing David cannot do. Scarcely out of his teens, he confronts the giant known as Goliath of Gath. Many have suggested that Goliath was “too big to hit.” Instead, David looked at Goliath and said: “He’s too big to miss.” The most amazing thing is that there is reason to doubt that David killed Goliath at all. It is quite likely that the historian of this period took a few liberties, and that Goliath was most likely slain by Elhanan, son of Jereorejim, the Bethlehemite.
But David is victorious in enough other places so that women begin to sing and dance as they roam the streets, crying:
Saul has slain his thousands,
and David, his tens of thousands.
Ah, what a cruel blow, coming as it does from the songs of street women.
Saul’s torment deepens. Three times he makes an attempt on David’s life. Three times he fails. Saul’s daughter, Michal, becomes David’s wife. Saul’s son, Jonathan, becomes David’s best friend. All of which deepens the guilt Saul feels over his jealousy. But he can’t rid himself of it. So he drives David into exile. But even with David safely at a distance, there is no easing of Saul’s anguish.
Now, as we catch up with him this morning, everything is coming unraveled. Saul is tired. Samuel is dead. David is hiding. And, once more, the Philistines are back….in spades. When Saul sees the size of the Philistine camp, he becomes so frightened that his heart beats violently. He inquires of God. But there is no answer. God does not answer through a dream. And God does not answer through the rolling of the stones (something akin to the rolling of dice). So Saul says: “Get me a witch. We will have ourselves a little séance. We will awaken Samuel from the dead. He will tell us what God has in store.” To which one of his servants says: “That’s going to be a little hard to do, O King, since you kicked all of the witches and wizards out of the land.” Leading Saul to scratch his chin and say: “I guess I did, didn’t I? But I don’t care. I need a witch. So find one.” Which is when someone says: “I think there is one in Endor.”
So Saul disguises himself and goes to Endor by night. Meeting the witch, he commands her: “Divine for me a ghost. Raise up the man I now name for you.” But this witch is no dumb cookie. She has fled to Endor because she values her scalp. What’s more, she recognizes Saul’s voice (from his many speeches on television, no doubt). So she says: “I know a trap when I see one.”
Saul responds by saying something that sounds like: “Shut up. Do what I tell you. This little matter will remain between the two of us. Do you think I want anybody to know what I am doing here? Divine for me the ghost I have named and nothing will happen to you.” So the witch of Endor goes into a trance and congers up an old man in a robe. Convinced that he is Samuel, Saul engages the ghost in conversation.
Samuel: “What do you want?”
Saul: “The Philistines are about to wage war against me. God has departed. He answers me no more. Please tell me the future.”
Samuel: “You don’t want to know.”
Saul: “Who will win tomorrow?”
Samuel: “Don’t ask.”
Saul: “What will happen to me?”
Samuel: “By this time tomorrow, you shall be with me. Your sons shall be with me. And your army shall be delivered into the hands of the Philistines.”
So, on the eve of death, the one who is nearly dead turns to one who is already dead, only to receive a message about dying.
As stories go, it is as primitive as it is powerful. And, as stories go, it is not very kind to Saul. But neither is it very kind to God. Still, there are messages to be found. Let me briefly suggest two. The first is a message about avoidance….ours. The second is a message about abandonment…. God’s. First things first.
There is no avoiding the struggles of life. There is no immunity, even for kings. Neither are shortcuts offered to desperate men. “Send me a witch,” cries Saul. He might as well be saying: “Send me an answer to everything that vexes me.” Bringing commentary to bear upon this text, John Schroeder writes: “Isn’t it just like primitive religion to offer such devices?” But primitive religion is very much in vogue. Its modern-day counterparts are everywhere. We have mediums and astrologer. We also have newspapers where one can read one’s daily horoscope. We have no lack of simplifiers who provide short solutions to long problems, forgetting that there are many human problems which must simply be lived through. “Character,” says Howard Kohn, “is the sum total of everything we have struggled against.” Warming to his task, he adds: “How stupid of the church to advertise its central message as having to do with getting rid of our tensions and learning to relax. It is a small wonder that people come to regard churches as secondary bedrooms, where they can supplement on Sunday morning the sleep they didn’t quite get their fill of on Saturday night.”
The function of religion is not to secure for its people easier lives, but to build within its people stronger souls. And high on the list of hard things that cannot be avoided is the unknown character of the future. The golf pro tells me in soft, measured tones, to visualize a desirable result….visualize a sweet, slow backswing….visualize a smooth, steady follow-through…. visualize my Titleist 2 elevating quickly, soaring majestically, landing softly, and rolling to a stop six inches from the pin. My golf pro does it all for me and my ball. Except hit it. That’s not included in the fee I pay for my lesson. There are no shortcuts, even for those who can afford the price of a seer. Forget the witch. That’s my word on avoidance. Don’t.
And here’s my word on abandonment. God won’t. I told you that the story of Saul and the witch of Endor was a primitive one. I warned you that it would give you a primitive God….a God of fickle favoritism. Saul’s God is one who likes some people and sours on other people. Saul’s God withdraws from the people he sours on, conveniently arranging to be out to lunch when people on the blacklist call. But take heart. Israel lived to write the story of a better God. Word of that God is sprinkled all over the Old Testament. I give you one sample from the Psalmist…. Psalm 139 to be exact.
O Lord, you have searched me and known me.
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from far away.
You search out my path and my lying down,
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue,
O Lord, you know it completely.
You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is so high that I cannot attain it.
Where can I go from your spirit?
Or where can I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there;
if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.
If I take the wings of the morning
and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light around me become night,”
even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is as bright as the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
But let me tell you what I’ve learned about that language. I learned that the phrase “take the wings of the morning” is a euphemism for death. As is the phrase “to dwell in the outermost parts of the sea.” The psalmist is saying, even if I take the wings of the morning….even if I dwell in the outermost parts of the sea….meaning, even if I die….even if the lights go out in Georgia (or in my life)….even if my body is blown to pieces by the sniper and is scattered over the surface of a Ponderosa parking lot in northern Virginia….even there God’s hand shall meet me and God’s right hand shall hold me.
I just spent four days with 23 of my big-church pastor friends in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. These are 23 preachers who are good for me….good to me….heck, just plain good. But the bottom is falling out for one of them. He’s hanging on to the pastorate of the second largest Methodist church in Indiana by a thread. But the thread is in the process of snapping on him….or being cut for him. He’ll be history soon….done, soon….out, soon….thrown unceremoniously from the escalator, soon.
“How are you handling it?” I asked. To which came the answer: “There are a lot of mornings when, if I didn’t have my Psalms and my Zoloft, I don’t know if I would get out of bed.”
Well, as for Zoloft, I won’t knock what I haven’t tried. As for the Psalms, I will push what I have tried. But this much I know. Both beat the witch.
Note: The story from I Samuel 28 is customarily referenced under the heading “Saul and the Witch of Endor,” even though more modern translations substitute the word “medium” for the word “witch.” Witches were commonly held to have existed in the ancient Near East and were doubtless known to the Israelites. The Old Testament contains lists of such persons under various names (no longer precisely definable) but which certainly included witches. The longest such list is found in Deuteronomy 18:10-11 where involvement with such persons is strictly forbidden. The so-called Witch of Endor falls within this category, but is more properly referred to a necromancer or medium.
