Saul was ... years old when he became king; and he reigned two years over Israel.
One short line of dating opens a dark turn in Israel's story: it counts Saul's reign, and the crisis that will undo him follows at once. It is also one of the hardest verses in the Old Testament to read, and commentators differ over both its wording and its numbers.
Translations of this verse do not agree on the numbers. One commentator states the problem directly:
Hebrew scholars think one of two things. Either something is missing from verse 1 in the Hebrew manuscripts, or the whole verse was not in the text at first.
Not everyone finds the verse troubling. These writers use an older translation. It reads "Saul reigned one year." The ESV has "Saul lived for one year and then became king." One writer takes this as the normal way the books of Kings date a reign, and works out Saul's age from his family:
I cannot see what the difficulty in this verse is. The Hebrew says Saul "was the son of a year in his reign" (see the margin), "and he reigned two years over Israel, and Saul chose," and so on. "Saul reigned" is the very phrase used in Kings, along with "and … was … years old when he began to reign." If that is the sense here, then his age has been left out, because in Kings the phrase that goes with it is "He reigned (two) years." Saul must have been between thirty and forty, because his son Jonathan had command of troops. A younger son was forty when Saul died.
The verse marks a turning point in the book:
Samuel's work as judge having come to its close, the first verse of our chapter begins a new subject.
Saul had received his orders long before this. One writer links the two years of this verse back to that earlier command:
The signs are complete. Now Saul receives a new direction for action, because signs are not everything. The Word is also needed. He is told to go down to Gilgal and wait seven days, until Samuel comes to show him what to do. Later on we shall see the result of this order, when, after two years, the king decides to go down to Gilgal (1 Sam. 13:1).
One writer marks how short that settled time was:
Then comes the first clear crisis in Saul's history. (1 Samuel 13) "Saul reigned one year." It was not long.
The verse leaves an impression of calm. One writer describes what Israel looked like then:
After the scene at Gilgal, which we have looked at, there was an apparent season of quiet. The first verse of chapter 13 suggests it. All Israel have gone back to their various homes, except 3,000 men chosen as the personal guard around Saul.
The same writer explains why the coming trial searched Saul more deeply than his earlier war with the Ammonites, the people east of the Jordan:
We come now to what shows the character of the new king in a far more searching way than the matter of the children of Ammon could. There are two reasons. The enemy, the Philistines, were nearer at hand, and they had held Israel longer and more completely than the enemy on the east. Saul was also to be tested in his dependence on God, and patient waiting brings out the deep unbelief of the heart faster than activity does.
The section this verse opens is not simply about a bad king. One writer names what Saul stands for:
At the start of this new division of the book, one thing is important to notice. Saul does not stand for the flesh planning to oppose the work of God. He stands much more for the flesh trying to do that work — the flesh brought into a position of testimony. This makes Saul infinitely more responsible, and his activity more guilty, than if he had come on the scene as an enemy of God and of His anointed. The Christian world today, which we are part of, holds the same position, and so the teaching of these chapters carries serious weight now.
- Broken text. The numbers in this verse are incomplete in the Hebrew. Some say Saul's age has dropped out of a normal royal dating formula. Others question the verse itself.
- Fresh start. The line closes Samuel's years of judging and opens a new division of the book, in which the king stands alone in view.
- Ticking clock. The years counted here run from the order to wait at Gilgal to the day Saul goes down. The order was old before he broke it.
- Short peace. One verse measures the reign, and the first crisis follows at once. The quiet was not safety. It was the setting of the test.
- The real test. Waiting, not fighting, exposes the heart. The danger is not open war against God. It is the flesh trying to do God's work.
And Saul chose him three thousand men out of Israel there were with Saul two thousand in Michmash and in mount Bethel, and a thousand were with Jonathan in Gibeah of Benjamin; and the rest of the people he sent every man to his tent.
Saul has just won his first battle, and now he does what kings do: he sends the citizen army home and keeps three thousand men under arms. The plan looks sensible, and commentators ask what it shows about the heart of a king whose real test was still ahead.
The opening line of the chapter, which dates this choice, has long puzzled readers. One writer takes the wording as a standard royal formula rather than a problem, and reads Saul's age from the fact that his son already commands troops:
What difficulty there is in this verse I cannot conceive. Saul "was the son of a year in his reign" (see margin) "and he reigned two years over Israel, and Saul chose," etc. "Saul reigned," is the identical expression used in Kings... He must have been between thirty and forty, for Jonathan his son had command of troops.
Commentators differ here. Another notes that "Hebrew scholars consider that either something is missing from verse 1 in the Hebrew manuscripts or that the whole verse was not originally in the text."
Keeping three thousand men under arms broke with everything Israel had done before:
With the setting up of the kingdom, we read of the first standing army since the days of Joshua. Until now, Israel raised armies as the need arose, for one special purpose, and disbanded them once that purpose was achieved. From now on Saul kept the core of an army around him. On this occasion he kept two thousand with himself at Michmash, and one thousand with Jonathan at Gibeah of Benjamin.
The number itself satisfies neither purpose it might have served:
As others have pointed out, this was an error, whichever way we look at it. "If he meant them only as a bodyguard and an honour guard, it was unwise to have so many. If he meant them as a standing army, because he feared danger from the Philistines, it was just as unwise to have so few." There was probably a truce, or perhaps a peace treaty, between Israel and the Philistines at this time.
One writer sets the new bodyguard against the test Saul was really facing:
Saul handled the Ammonite invasion creditably, but the real test was still to come, and it came very soon: could he walk with God in his new position of exaltation? After the victory at Jabesh Gilead, he dismissed his huge army of 330,000 men. Two years later he set up a small standing army of 3,000... We see prudence in this arrangement, but hardly faith, for (as Jonathan said a little later) "nothing can hinder the LORD from saving by many or by few." Faith needs no guards.
One writer traces the reasoning behind the number, and then names what it leaves out:
Saul sends them all home, then, except three thousand men. They are too few to rouse the suspicion of those who had been quickly making themselves masters in Israel, and yet enough to hold some central strong points, and to be the core of a trained and efficient army. The old days of Samuel had already passed away. The fruits of unbelief are not long in showing themselves. In Saul's action we see not a return to faith, but the wise caution of worldly prudence and shrewd generalship. Everything has to be calculated and provided for. God is left out, for He is a force that cannot be calculated. But being left out, He is still free to come in and spoil these arrangements, as we shall see.
The verse's last line brings in Jonathan. One writer finds the man of faith here, and hears it first in his name:
A thousand are under Jonathan at Gibeah. This brings in the man of faith, right beside Saul himself, through whom God works the deliverance He has prepared for His people. Jonathan, or Jehonathan, means "Jehovah has given." He is the Lord's gift to Israel for this emergency. But it is also the language of his own believing heart, something like a blank check, which can be filled in for every occasion... He is really with God, and we find in him what Saul should have been and was not. With him there is no delay, no prudence: put weapons in his hands and he will use them.
Why does a troop count matter? Because of what Saul stands for:
Saul does not represent the flesh's planned opposition to the work of God, but far more the efforts of the flesh to do this work — the flesh brought into a position of testimony. This makes Saul infinitely more responsible and his activity more guilty than if he had entered the scene as an enemy of God and of His anointed. The Christian world, of which we are part, stands in the same position, and so the teaching of these chapters carries a solemn weight today.
- Guards. Saul's three thousand were the first standing army since Joshua's day. Before this, Israel raised a force for each crisis and then sent it home.
- Guesswork. The number fits neither purpose: too many for ceremony, far too few against the Philistines.
- God omitted. The plan is shrewd, and that is the flaw. Saul calculated everything and left out the one force no calculation can hold.
- Gift. Jonathan's name means "Jehovah has given." He is God's gift to Israel for the emergency, and his faith treats that name as a blank check for any occasion.
- Guilt. Saul is the flesh attempting God's work, not opposing it. That makes him more responsible, not less — and the Christian world stands in that same position today.
And Jonathan smote the outpost of the Philistines that was in Geba, and the Philistines heard [of it]. And Saul blew the trumpet throughout the land, saying, Let the Hebrews hear.
Jonathan strikes the Philistine garrison at Geba, and his father sounds the trumpet over the whole land. The question left hanging is whose victory it really was.
The chapter around this verse shows a nation in disarray, and one man acting differently:
In the previous chapter nothing can be more humbling than the confusion, distress, and utter helplessness of Saul and Israel. The only exception there is Jonathan, who "defeated the garrison of the Philistines that was at Geba." But this victory granted to Jonathan showed that God was still with His people. Those in responsibility only needed to know how to count on His presence and help. And yet the lesson was wholly lost on Saul.
Israel had other enemies. The Philistines were different, because they sat inside the land God had promised:
Here also we see in the Philistines the enemies who put faith to the test. We often have enemies we beat easily. People think we are spiritual because of them. Yet these are not the enemies that put faith to the test — not on God's part, nor, it may be said, on their own. With these, patience must have its perfect work. And the Philistines held this place with respect to Saul. It was good for the people to be free from their other enemies. But those were not the enemies that trapped them. Those were not the ones that displayed the enemy's power right in the middle of Israel and the promises.
Jonathan's blow was bold, and it stirred the Philistines at once:
Of course this was a very bold thing for a subject people, which the Israelites clearly had become. The Philistines hear of it, and at once begin to move against a people who were stirring themselves even this little. Faith does not fear to strike, no matter how total the oppression. Formalism may have laid its deadly hand on the saints of God so completely that no one dares lift his voice in protest. But faith will strike wherever there is an opportunity. It does not coldly calculate the effect, nor count up the numbers the enemy will be able to bring into the field to crush it. It counts rather on God alone. Here is something that is not according to Him — it must be denounced, it must be struck down.
The trumpet spread Saul's name, not Jonathan's. One writer sees Saul's failure start here, and points out what each name means:
In 1 Samuel 13 the time of testing and trial comes upon Saul, and he proves to be rejected. First the flesh takes for itself the honour due only to the Spirit. Jonathan defeated the garrison of the Philistines that was at Geba — and his name means "the one whom the Lord has given." But all Israel heard that Saul had done it, for he blew the trumpet and said, "Let the Hebrews hear." Saul was the one "asked for" by the people.
Saul does not call the nation Israel:
"And Saul blew the trumpet throughout all the land, saying, 'Let the Hebrews hear.'" What a summons from the king! Why call them Hebrews? Was this all that Saul had to say? Where was God in it? Entirely forgotten! This is exactly the kind of language a Gentile would use. Had Saul sunk to this? Had he never heard of Jehovah, the God of Israel? Had he never weighed His promises to the fathers, His purposes for their children, the chosen people, poor as they might be?
The same writer applies this to how we speak of God's people now:
This is what unbelief always did, and does now. "Our people" — "Our church!" Such language betrays the fatal fault of connecting things with ourselves instead of with God… I may do as I please with what is my own, and it is natural to resent anyone trampling on its rights. But I must take care what I do with what is not mine nor yours, but God's.
Saul had just sent the people home. Now he calls them back:
Saul cannot lead now; he must follow. But he follows a path he knows nothing about. He acts in the dark, while he imagines he has full light. There is no caution now, no seeking wisdom from God. He has just dismissed the crowd that had gathered against the Ammonites. Now he summons them again in haste with the trumpet. But God has no use for them.
- One man — while Saul and Israel are helpless, Jonathan alone acts, and his blow shows God had not left His people.
- One enemy — the Philistines sat inside the land. Easy wins prove nothing; this is the enemy that tests faith.
- One principle — faith strikes at what is not according to God without counting the odds against it.
- One theft — Jonathan struck the blow, but the land heard Saul's name. The flesh takes the honour due to the Spirit.
- One word — Saul called them "Hebrews," not Israel, and left God out. The same fault shows up whenever we say "our church" instead of God's.
And all Israel heard say, Saul has smitten the garrison of the Philistines, and Israel also has become odious to the Philistines. And the people were called together after Saul to Gilgal.
Jonathan struck a Philistine outpost, and the news reached the whole land as Saul's victory. The people gathered to him at Gilgal, hated by the Philistines and afraid.
Jonathan's raid is the one bright spot in a chapter of collapse. Then Saul's trumpet turns his son's act into the king's reputation.
Nothing could be more humbling than the confusion, distress, and utter helplessness of Saul and Israel. The only exception to the general condition is Jonathan, who "defeated the garrison of the Philistines that was at Geba." But this victory given to Jonathan showed that God was still with His people — if only those in responsibility knew how to count on His presence and help. And yet Saul missed the lesson entirely. He exalted himself through his son's achievement. He "blew the trumpet throughout all the land, saying, Let the Hebrews hear." So the report went out that Saul, not Jonathan but Saul, "had defeated a garrison of the Philistines."
The verse corrects the king. He summoned "the Hebrews"; the record says "all Israel" heard.
Saul's language was extraordinary. "Let the Hebrews hear." The Spirit says in the following verse, "All Israel heard say," and so on. "Israel" was the name of grace (Gen. 35:10); "Hebrews" was a term that merely recalled how Abraham, their father, first came into the land from across the Euphrates. But many things had happened since Abraham's day. His descendants had, by the grace of God, crossed both the Red Sea and the Jordan, and were now God's covenant people in the land of promise. Did not these mighty facts count for something? But Saul had no real sense in his soul of the people's true relationship with the Lord.
This unbelief did not die with Saul. It shows up in one small word: "our."
This is what unbelief always did, and does now. "Our people" — "our church!" Such language betrays the fatal habit of connecting things with ourselves instead of with God... So with the people of Israel here. If they were regarded merely as Saul's people, the Hebrews, or something of that kind, everything must go wrong. The starting point was false: it left God out, along with Israel's relationship to Him.
The report had a second half: Israel was now "a stench to the Philistines." Older translations say "had in abomination." That news sounds like disaster. It is not.
"And that Israel also was held in abomination by the Philistines." It was all right. God does not intend His people to be anything else in the eyes of those who hate them. They may respect or dread a people, which is natural enough; but the thing the world cannot stand is the claim of God. If you only hope to find a portion for yourselves from God, the world would hardly mind. They have their own fears, and they at least hope He may show mercy. But what offends the world is when you hold firmly that God Himself has called and blessed you — calmly and humbly, for you cannot be too humble about it.
The people came when called. What they carried to Gilgal was not courage.
The way the people received the news sadly shows their state. The news did not thrill them with energy or arm them as one man to finish off this proud enemy. It filled them with terror. They realise the Philistines now hold them in abomination. That fills their minds more than any hope of deliverance. How like unbelief in every age! It fears the consequences of any measure of faithfulness... to be occupied with the effect of our action on the enemies of God, rather than with God Himself, is to invite defeat.
Saul did not point the nation to God. He pointed it to the danger, and the tribes came.
Saul attributes Jonathan's victory, faith's victory, to himself (v. 4)... The flesh never seeks to gather souls around Christ: it makes itself the centre. This is how Saul acted when he tried to frighten the people with these words: "Israel had become a stench to the Philistines." In 1 Samuel 11:7 he had forced the tribes to follow him by threats; here he does it through fear. The result of acting this way is to gather Israel after himself. But the moral consequences soon follow. Those who put themselves under the flesh's leadership to find some measure of security soon feel that they have no security at all.
- Faith acts. One man counting on God struck the garrison, and that single act proved God had not abandoned His people.
- Flesh claims. Saul did not win the battle; he won the announcement. The nation credited him with his son's faith, and he gathered it around himself.
- Names betray. Saul called them "Hebrews," their natural, ancestral name. The record calls them Israel, the name of grace. How a leader speaks of God's people shows whether he sees God in them.
- The world reacts. Becoming offensive to the Philistines was not failure. What enemies cannot stand is a people who insist, humbly but firmly, that God has claimed them.
- Fear decides. Israel gathered, but weighed the enemy's hatred instead of God's help. Watching the opposition instead of God is how defeat begins.
And the Philistines were assembled together to fight with Israel, thirty thousand chariots, and six thousand horsemen, and people as the sand which is on the sea-shore in multitude; and they came up, and encamped in Michmash, eastward from Beth-Aven.
Jonathan attacked a Philistine outpost, and a whole nation went to war. Now a huge army camps at Michmash, inside Israel's own hill country. The chapter asks one question: will Israel count the enemy, or count on God?
The huge army in this verse did not appear on its own. It is the enemy's answer to one small act of courage. Commentators also note the contrast: crowds gather against God's people, while few move for Him.
The Philistines typically stand for mere formal religion, a form of godliness with no spiritual power… Israel then gathers to Saul in Gilgal, while the Philistines gather a great army that would seem unbeatable by its sheer size. Today too we know that formal religion wins crowds, in contrast to the few who claim Christ as their Center. Yet Jonathan had not been afraid to attack this powerful enemy. It seems amazing that they could gather 30,000 chariots, six thousand horsemen and foot soldiers almost beyond counting.
Notice where the Philistines camp: not on the border, but in Israel's own territory. Writers see this as the mark of what the Philistines stand for.
They appear to me to represent the power of the enemy acting within the circle of God's people. They were in the territory of the Israelites — within the land, and even on this side of the Jordan. They were not, like the Egyptians or Assyrians, enemies from outside. They were always hostile to Israel, to those who by God's appointment should have owned the land of promise. They were all the more dangerous because they were always close at hand, claiming the country as their own… I do not mean the flesh, but the enemy inside the professing church… the oppressor of God's true people to whom the promises belong.
The verse pins the camp between two named spots, and both names carry meaning. Michmash and nearby Bethel were where Saul's own strength lay.
Saul's strength lay in Michmash, which means "hidden treasure," and in Bethel, which means "house of God." Jonathan's strength lay in Gibeah of Benjamin, which means "son of my right hand."
The other name, Beth-aven, sits beside Bethel. The name itself records a change.
This place is said to lie east of Bethel. But in Hosea the name seems to be given to Bethel itself. Bethel was no longer the "house of God" but the "house of vanity," because of the idols there.
Israel read the figures and hid. One writer draws a lesson for anyone whose courage fails when obedience starts to cost something.
The tribes gathered, but there was no faith. They heard that the Philistines were on the move with "thirty thousand chariots and six thousand horsemen and troops like the sand on the seashore in multitude." So they trembled and scattered, and some even hid themselves "in caves, and in thickets, and in rocks." We are not always ready for what follows when the Spirit of God moves. There are dangers to face and reproach to bear, and the faith of God's true saints sometimes falters at such moments.
The same failure reaches the throne. Saul could see the army; he could not see God.
He does not see God; he sees only circumstances. Where he moves most freely and boldly, he is in fact moved helplessly by them… Now they see only the army of the Philistines, countless to their eyes, who soon seize the passes to the hill country.
The story does not leave Michmash in enemy hands. One chapter later the tide turned at that very spot, and the odds had not improved.
At Michmash, east of Beth-aven, the Philistines had terrified Saul and Israel simply by being there. On the day of Jonathan's victory the battle moved from Michmash across to Beth-aven, and Israel struck them from Michmash to Aijalon… At Ebenezer, the battlefield where Israel had lost the ark, the Philistines were later defeated. In the same way, where Saul had been afraid of them, Jonathan won a victory for the people by his faith in God. The position remained unchanged.
- Provoked. The huge army is the enemy's answer to one act of faith. When God moves, opposition gathers, and numbers are its weapon.
- Inside. The Philistines are not an invader from outside. They are a power at work inside the circle of God's people, camped on Israel's own ground.
- Named. Michmash means "hidden treasure," and Saul's strength lay there. Nearby Bethel had lost its name, "house of God," and become Beth-aven, "house of vanity."
- Counted. Israel counted chariots and horsemen and scattered. Saul saw only circumstances, and the circumstances moved him.
- Reversed. A chapter later, the same Michmash became the place of victory. The position had not changed; the faith had.
And the men of Israel saw that they were in a strait (for the people were distressed); and the people hid themselves in caves, and in thickets, and in cliffs, and in strongholds, and in pits.
Israel has a new king, and a huge Philistine army is camped against them. The men of Israel see no way out and hide, which raises a hard question: why does a strong enemy empty God's people of courage?
One writer starts with the king, then with the people who followed him:
He does not see God; he sees only circumstances. Even where he moves most freely and confidently, his circumstances are in fact moving him, and he is helpless before them. ... Now the only thing they take in is the Philistine army, countless in their eyes. It soon seizes the passes up into the hill country. So, seeing they are in trouble, they scatter and hide themselves in holes in the rocks and in the ground.
Their fear made sense on its own terms. One writer names what was under it, and what they left out:
How like unbelief in all time is this! It fears the consequences of any measure of faithfulness. To be taken up with the effect of our action on God's enemies, instead of with God Himself, is to invite defeat. ... The Philistines had indeed gathered in enormous numbers to fight Israel. They had chariots and horsemen and people like the sand on the seashore, a most formidable army. If they took advice from flesh and blood alone, no wonder the people of Israel are terror-stricken. And sadly that is just what happened. This army had come out against the Lord, not against His feeble people. Instead of remembering that and facing it boldly, they flee to the caves and hide in the thickets and rocks, in high places and pits.
Older translations list those hiding places as thickets, high places and pits, where the ESV has holes, tombs and cisterns.
The people had a king to keep them safe. One writer shows what that safety was worth:
Those who put themselves under the leadership of the flesh to find some security soon feel that they have no security at all. Their distress is no smaller than before, and they follow Saul "trembling" (v. 7). Looking for shelter, they cross the Jordan to the land of Gad and Gilead (v. 7). They leave Canaan itself, to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the enemy. This lack of faith makes them forget the one thing that mattered. It was not Saul who dwelt among the people, and their cause was not resting in his hands.
A cave means turning your back on the battle. Another writer asks why the numbers frightened them at all:
Why should the faith of God's people be so weakened because they are outnumbered? "If God is for us, who can be against us?" (Romans 8:31). Would faith not cry to God in firm confidence? Some of Israel even deserted their own land, choosing to cross the Jordan to avoid possible conflict. Let us remember that God does not give us armour for our backs! (Ephesians 6:11-17). Those who stayed with Saul did so trembling! Yet they had the courage to follow despite their fear.
Another writer puts the failure earlier still:
What is Israel going to do in the face of this huge army? Hide in caves and thickets, in rocks, in high places and pits! They were God's people, but they were hardly ready yet to bring God into their affairs by casting themselves wholly on Him.
The same fear still hides God's people. One writer brings the caves straight to the reader:
What a reproach it is when we are afraid to say that we are the Lord's, and hide in secret places! What a reproach when we are afraid to let our neighbours know that we belong to Christ, and that the word of God is guide enough for us — the guide we are seeking to obey! ... Of course there may be, and there is, a morality and an upright walk. There may even be, up to a point, religious observances that Philistines themselves can join in. But where is that bold confession of loyalty to Christ our Lord? Where is the doing of what we do because we belong to Christ, and not merely because it is right, or expected, or what others do?
- Seeing — The hiding starts in the eyes. Look only at your circumstances and they will move you. The enemy fills the whole view, and God drops out of it.
- Shrinking — Take advice from flesh and blood alone, and terror is the only answer. Faith remembers that the enemy came out against the Lord, not against His feeble people.
- Sheltering — Security sought under a leader of the flesh gives no security. Their distress did not shrink, and they still trembled.
- Scattering — Caves, pits and a river between you and the fight are all the same move: turning your back. God gives no armour for the back.
- Showing yourself — The answer to a cave is open confession — doing what we do because we belong to Christ, not because it is expected.
And the Hebrews went over the Jordan into the land of Gad and Gilead. And Saul was yet in Gilgal, and all the people followed him trembling.
Israel asked for a king to fight their battles, and this verse shows the result: some flee over the Jordan, and the rest follow Saul trembling. What happens when God's people rest their confidence on a leader of their own choosing?
Israel expected a king to make them safe from every enemy. One writer sets that hope beside Israel's earlier history:
Israel, in unbelief, had asked for a king to fight their battles. No doubt they imagined that, once they had a king, no enemy could stand before them. But was it so? One word in 1 Samuel 13 gives the reply: "All the people followed him trembling." What a change! How different from the mighty host who long ago had followed Joshua into the strongholds of Canaan! And yet they now had their longed-for king in front of them. But God was not there, and so they trembled.
The trembling also shows where they were looking:
A few follow him too, trembling so much that their eye is plainly on their human leader, and they have forgotten the living God. This wretched remnant of an army mocks any real resistance, and any test would have proved it.
The hiding and the flight both come from the same sum: Israel counted the Philistines and left God out.
This army strikes fear into the hearts of the men of Israel. They look for every possible hiding place — caves, thickets, rocks, high places, pits. Why should being outnumbered so weaken the faith of God's people? "If God is for us, who can be against us?" (Romans 8:31). Would faith not cry to God in firm confidence? Some of Israel even deserted their own land, choosing to cross the Jordan to avoid possible conflict. Let us remember that God does not give us armour for our backs! (Ephesians 6:11-17).
One writer traces the blindness back to Saul himself:
He does not see God; he sees only circumstances. Where he moves most freely and confidently, circumstances are in fact moving him, and he is helpless in their hands.
The verse calls them Hebrews, not Israelites. One writer traces that name back to Saul's own trumpet call:
"And Saul blew the trumpet throughout all the land, saying, Let the Hebrews hear." It was not the action of faith but the result of his own proud heart. It is significant that he avoids the word Israel. The Lord never speaks of "My people the Hebrews," their original, national name. It is always "My people Israel." Saul leaves out the God of Israel. It all reveals the character of Saul.
Gad and Gilead lay across the Jordan, outside Canaan itself. One writer reads that flight as a search for safety that found none:
People who put themselves under the leadership of the flesh to gain some security soon feel that they have no security at all. Their distress does not shrink; they follow Saul "trembling." Looking for shelter, they cross the Jordan to the land of Gad and Gilead. They leave Canaan itself, to put as much distance as they can between themselves and the enemy. This lack of faith makes them forget the one thing that mattered. It was not Saul who dwelt among the people, and their cause did not rest in his hands.
The place where they trembled makes it worse.
But trembling in Gilgal of all places! How blind Saul and the people were to what that place meant! It was there that the people used the sharp knives of circumcision when they first entered Canaan. That was the place where, in picture at least, the flesh met its unsparing judgement. We have nothing to fear when we put the flesh to death as we should. Where we refuse evil like this, God shows His presence in power. Gilgal is a sure starting-point for victory.
Saul was standing on ground he did not understand:
Saul is at Gilgal, where, if he had truly entered into the spirit of the place, he would have found an unbeatable position, and from which he could have gone out victoriously over all the host of the enemy.
- Leader — Israel got the king they asked for. They follow him, but trembling, because God was not there.
- Eyes — The trembling starts with what they were watching. Their eye was on their human leader. Saul's eye was on his circumstances. Both forgot the living God.
- Name — The verse calls them Hebrews, not Israel. Saul used that name when he summoned them, and it leaves the God of Israel out.
- Flight — Fear moves feet. Some put the Jordan between themselves and the enemy. They gave up Canaan for Gad and Gilead, and gained no security at all.
- Ground — They trembled at Gilgal, the one place that should have made them brave. There God had judged the flesh, and victory had a sure starting-point.
And he waited seven days, according to the set time that Samuel [had appointed]; but Samuel did not come to Gilgal; and the people were scattered from him.
Israel waits at Gilgal. The Philistines are gathering, Samuel has set a seven-day appointment, and Saul's army is slipping away. Everything in this verse turns on a delay — and on what a man does with the last hour of it.
Saul was not improvising. Samuel had set the meeting, and behind that arrangement stood God's own rule: obey the judge He raised up. Saul's fatal move was to downgrade an instruction into an opinion.
But why had Saul acted this way? What had taken hold of him? Did he say to himself something like this? "After all, that seven-day appointment was only an arrangement Samuel made. He may have forgotten it, or he may have been mistaken." Perhaps he did. But wait! Samuel's arrangement was not everything… Samuel was, without a doubt, the judge God raised up for his days. The Word of God required full obedience to his instructions. Saul disobeyed. What swayed him was what seemed to him the practical thing to do. He treated the Word of God, through Samuel, as only Samuel's opinion.
Saul had already won a battle. A harder test was still ahead.
Saul's gift had indeed been proved. But Saul himself had not yet been proved. An occasion had tested the gift, but the commandment had not yet tested the heart of the king… Then the time of the commandment came, and "the word of the Lord tries him." Now the test was Saul's obedience to the Lord, not his gift in the Spirit.
Saul did wait. He counted the days, and broke at the very edge of them.
Patience must always have its perfect work; but this was what Saul could not afford. He had hoped, no doubt, that Samuel would come in good time. He waited and waited, and it seemed as if the time was all but complete. But that was exactly the point of trial where he broke down. The time was not yet run out, and the flesh can never wait it out.
The scattering of the people is the prop that gave way.
After the seven days Samuel had not come to Gilgal, and the people were scattered from Saul. This man had gathered them by tactics of fear, and they found in him no authority strong enough to guard and defend them. Then Saul loses patience. He does not know the patience of faith, which is "strengthened with all power according to the might of His glory." His patience stops where faith should begin. When the people scatter, when man's support fails him, everything fails this poor king.
What he did next was not just haste. It broke into an office that was not his.
He had, as we have already seen, shown the results of the unbelief of the flesh. He failed to wait for Samuel at Gilgal, and he intruded into the priestly rights, as king Uzziah did in a later day. For someone under the law of Moses, intruding into the priesthood was a most glaring act of sacrilege.
Saul had reasons, and they sounded practical. One thing was missing.
It is common to hear good reasons given for a bad thing. The course he took sounded fair. The great fault in it was that God was not in the matter. It was Saul's policy, and this because of Saul's fears. Faith always looks to God, and does His will. Little did Saul know the fatal consequence of his unbelief.
The hour meant for confirming a kingdom became the hour of losing one.
How often the hour for establishing the offered blessing is lost through carelessness! It becomes instead the moment of forfeiture and defeat, and of Satan's power. At this very point Saul breaks down. Burnt offerings and peace offerings were about to confirm the kingdom and the king for ever. The first man Adam gave place to the last Adam. In the same way the first king must be set aside to make room for the second, the true David.
This test is not Saul's alone.
You will find there is nothing that tests the strength of your soul like waiting for God. We think we must do the things we think are right. Instead, we must learn to wait. Take Saul, for example, in 1 Samuel 13. He ought to have waited, and said, I can do nothing.
- Waiting is the test. Battle had proved Saul's gift. The seven days tested whether his heart would obey.
- Almost is not obedience. Saul counted the days right up to the edge — and the flesh can never wait the time out.
- Props, then panic. His patience lasted as long as his human support. When the people scattered, everything failed him.
- Good reasons, absent God. His explanation sounded fair, but God was not in it; it was policy driven by fear.
- The forfeited hour. The hour meant to confirm his kingdom forever is the hour he lost it. That cleared the way for the true David.
And Saul said, Bring hither to me the burnt-offering and the peace-offerings. And he offered up the burnt-offering.
Samuel told Saul to wait seven days at Gilgal for him to come and offer the sacrifices. The seventh day ran out, the army melted away, and Saul called for the offerings himself — why could a man who wanted God's help not wait for it?
The waiting was the test. Saul's patience lasted only as long as the crowd did.
Then Saul loses patience; he does not know the patience of faith which is "strengthened with all power, according to His glorious might." His patience stops where faith should begin. When the people scatter, when man's support fails him, everything fails this poor king. His flesh, driven to act, at once seizes the place that belongs to the prophet. It reverses the order God established and tramples it underfoot.
He did wait — almost. A man can keep a rule long enough to quiet his conscience and still never lean on God.
He waits for him long enough to satisfy the demands of conscience. Nature can go a long way on that principle. But nature does not feel its own weakness, and it does not feel that everything depends on God. That sense is what makes a man wait on God as his only resource and worker… If he had had confidence in God, he would have understood that he should wait for Him, whatever the result might be. He would have seen that it was useless to do anything without Him, and that he ran no risk in waiting for Him.
Saul later gave his reasons, and each one was something he could see. One thing was missing from his list.
The poor king saw the people deserting him, the power of the enemy, and the absence of the man he leaned on. But he did not see God.
Offering was not Saul's work to do. In taking the sacrifice into his own hands he stepped over a line God Himself had drawn.
So Saul offers the sacrifices. He pushes into the priest's office, and in effect he ignores all need of the very thing that lay at the base of sacrifice — a mediator. The flesh, with all its religiousness and carefulness, never grasps that it has no standing before God. It would push its way into the holiest things.
What did Saul think the burnt offering would do for him?
But Saul was not Melchizedek! What place did the burnt offering have in his mind, that he should act like this? It could have been little more than a lucky charm, as the ark was to the people in the day of Hophni and Phinehas. It is GOD who counts. If we let the outward, visible things He Himself appointed crowd Him out of our minds, they become truly harmful in our unspiritual hands.
Saul may well have thought the seven-day appointment was only Samuel's plan, and that the plan had failed. The law had already answered that excuse.
Samuel's arrangement was not everything. Long before his day the law had already provided for just such a situation. The divine instruction was: "you shall come… to the judge who is in those days… you shall not turn aside from the verdict that they declare to you, either to the right hand or to the left" (Deut. 17:8-12)… Samuel was without doubt the judge God raised up for his day. The word of God required full obedience to his instructions. Saul disobeyed. What looked practical swayed him, and he treated the word of God, through Samuel, as no more than Samuel's opinion.
The timing is what makes this so heavy. The hour that could have settled the kingdom is the hour that lost it.
How often carelessness loses the hour for establishing the offered blessing! That hour becomes instead the moment of forfeiture and defeat… At this very point burnt offerings and peace offerings were about to confirm the kingdom and the king forever. Right here Saul breaks down… Samuel should have stood in the place of offering, blessing the sacrifices, the people, and their king. Instead he becomes the prophet of woe to Saul.
- Command. The seven days were a command from God through Samuel, not a plan Saul could revise when it looked impractical.
- Clock. Saul waited long enough to quiet his conscience, but not long enough to lean on God. There was no risk in waiting.
- Eye. He saw the people scattering, the enemy massing, the prophet missing. God was the one thing he left out.
- Altar. He took the offering into his own hands, stepped into the priest's place, and pushed past the need of a mediator. He used religion as a charm instead of trust.
- Cost. Samuel came with woe instead of blessing. The hour meant to confirm the kingdom became the hour Saul forfeited it.
And it came to pass, as soon as he had ended offering up the burnt-offering, behold, Samuel came; and Saul went out to meet him, that he might salute him.
Saul finishes the burnt offering. At that very moment Samuel walks into the camp, and the king goes out to greet him as if nothing had happened. This verse turns on a few minutes, and on what a warm welcome can hide.
Samuel did come. But Saul had already acted, so the help arrived too late to do him any good.
God's help arrives at the moment when the flesh has just attempted to come to its own rescue. What use is this help to him therefore? Saul is not an unbeliever. He does not openly despise Israel's God, and he knows that a sacrifice is needed to come near Him. Far from despising the prophet, he "went out to meet him and greet him."
Another writer notes how long Saul had already held out, and how little time was left.
He waits until near the end of the seventh day — so far into it that there seems to be no hope of Samuel coming. In open disobedience he offers the burnt offering, or has it offered for him. He has barely done this before Samuel comes.
The same hour could have gone either way. One writer marks how quickly an hour of blessing can turn into an hour of loss.
How often the hour set for establishing the offered blessing is lost through carelessness! It becomes instead the moment of forfeiture, of defeat, and of Satan's power. At this very point the kingdom and the king were about to be confirmed for ever by burnt offerings and peace offerings. Here Saul breaks down. The first man, Adam, gave place to the last Adam. In the same way the first king must be set aside to make room for the Second, the true David.
Saul had waited. The question is why his waiting collapsed at the moment the people drifted away.
When the people scatter, when man's support fails him, everything fails this poor king. His flesh drives him to act. He at once seizes the place that belongs to the prophet, and so he reverses and tramples on the order God had set up.
Something can look like faith for a long time without ever being faith.
The flesh can imitate faith up to a certain point, but no further… Nothing is harder for the flesh than to stand still and wait for God to save. Its patience is often impressive, and it may even impress Christians. But it ends at the moment when faith is required — the faith that does not count difficulties or impossibilities, because faith holds fast to God, who is above them all.
The strangest detail in the verse is the greeting itself. Saul seems pleased with himself for the courtesy, and one writer treats that satisfaction as the warning.
Saul was treating as worthless the word of God spoken by His prophet. At that very time he went out to meet and greet (bless) him, and he seemed well satisfied with himself for showing him this outward honour… What must it be to go out in appearance only to meet and bless the Lord, while living and acting against His revealed will?
This was not a one-off. It matched a pattern that ran through his reign.
Selfishness and pride mark Saul's whole course, hidden under a cloak of humility… He was a self-seeker throughout. He used the name of God only for his own ends, and the things of God as a pedestal to display his own glory.
One writer sets Saul's act beside a later king who did the same thing, and says what it stands for today.
He had already shown what the unbelief of the flesh produces. He failed to wait for Samuel at Gilgal, and he intruded into the priest's office, as King Uzziah did later. Under the law of Moses, intruding into the priesthood was a most glaring act of sacrilege. What matches it today is the refusal of Christ in His priestly and atoning work as the only way to come to God. This will explain the terrible judgment upon Uzziah and the setting aside of Saul. No one is fit to lead His people if he fails to see that Christ's sacrifice and His priestly pleading for them are absolutely necessary.
- Moment — Samuel arrived just as the offering ended. The help Saul needed was already on the way when he stopped waiting for it.
- Motive — his patience broke the moment the people scattered. It was the flesh copying faith, not faith itself.
- Mask — Saul went out to greet and bless the prophet while acting against the word that prophet carried. The outward honour left him well satisfied.
- Method — the act seized a place God had never given him. One writer reads that trespass as a picture of refusing Christ's priestly work as the only way to God.
- Measure — the hour set to confirm his kingdom for ever became the hour of loss. The first king is set aside to make room for the true David.
And Samuel said, What hast thou done? And Saul said, Because I saw that the people were scattered from me, and that thou didst not come within the days appointed, and that the Philistines were assembled at Michmash,
Saul was to wait seven days at Gilgal until Samuel came, but the army drained away and he offered the burnt offering himself. Samuel arrives with one question, and Saul's answer — reasons instead of confession — shows why he lost the kingdom.
Saul had already shown what he could do. One thing in him had never faced a test.
Saul's gift had indeed been vindicated. But Saul himself had not yet been proved. An occasion had tested the gift, but the commandment had not yet tested the heart of the king.
The prophet's delay had a purpose.
Then, Samuel had not come during the appointed days. This was simply to test the genuineness of his faith.
Samuel does not argue. He asks one short question, and it has a history in Scripture.
"What have you done?" Samuel demands of the impatient, unbelieving, disobedient king. That is the startling, conscience-searching question. The Lord God asked it of the woman, fallen, in the Garden: "What is this that you have done?" He asked it of her son Cain, the murderer of his brother: "What have you done? The voice of your brother's blood is crying to me from the ground." It would have been well if they had answered, "I have played the fool. I have broken the commandment. I have sinned before heaven and in your sight, O God of righteousness, holiness and truth." This indeed should be the answer of everyone, "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God."
Saul names three pressures. Notice who is missing from his list.
In his reply to Samuel (1 Sam. 13:11-12) God never enters his thoughts. His concern was how to keep the people together and drive back the enemy — the eye of the flesh on the things that are seen. He wants the people to trust in him, not in God. So he does not offer a sin offering. That would have meant taking the place of humiliation and weakness — the place that suited him. He offers a burnt offering instead, claiming acceptance and blessing — the place of honour and power. It was all done for the sake of appearance, busy about himself, his people, Samuel, the enemy, anything but God.
Saul's reasons are not irrational. They are the kind of reasons that make disobedience feel responsible.
As always, the flesh has excellent reasons for acting, and so for disobeying: "Because I saw that the people were scattered from me, and that you did not come within the days appointed, and that the Philistines were assembled at Michmash" (v. 11). The flesh has an excuse, even a pious excuse, for its disobedience.
One line of Saul's defence was simply untrue, and one word in it gives him away.
Saul offers the empty excuse that man has always offered: "The people were scattering from me," he says. Then he wickedly tries to load the blame for his sin onto Samuel: "You did not come within the days appointed." This was false, and all the worse for being spoken under the appearance of truth. Samuel did appear before the seventh day had closed… Under this show of piety he says, "I forced myself." But faith never has to force itself; it can always trust God's word, depend on His promise, and wait patiently for its sure fulfilment.
Saul's pressures were real. A king under God was not asked to weigh them.
It was a plain breach of a direct command. Saul can point, and does point, to the people scattering, to Samuel's failure to come (which he assumed too quickly), and to the gathered Philistines. With all this he had nothing at all to do. The king of Israel was only the representative of the heavenly King. Israel was really God's people, and His will alone was absolute in every situation that might arise. How good, in fact, to have it so! A king who governed like that could be completely at rest!… He had nothing whatever to do with consequences.
The prophet's reply steps straight past every reason Saul has given.
Samuel's reply is startlingly frank. Saul has done foolishly. He does not try to take up his reasons one by one. The people may have been scattered. He does not refer to it. The enemy may be threatening. He does not even explain his own delay, though its purpose was plain. He has one thing to say to the king: "You have not kept the command of the Lord your God." How all his paltry excuses are scattered to the winds by that solemn charge! What excuse can there be for disobedience? If he had stood this test, his kingdom would have been established, for it would have shown him to be a man of genuine faith. One thing he lacked, and that one thing was absolutely needed. It was really everything. It was faith in God.
reason: hard sentences; last bullet claimed what no quote said
I said, The Philistines will come down now upon me to Gilgal, and I have not made supplication to Jehovah; and I forced myself, and offered up the burnt-offering.
Saul explains himself to Samuel: the enemy was coming, he had not yet sought the Lord, so he acted. Why did this religious-sounding speech fail to convince the prophet, and what does "I forced myself" admit about the man who said it?
His excuse is a list of things he saw with his own eyes.
First, "I saw that the people were scattered from me." He dreaded being left alone... Second, Saul said, "I saw... that the Philistines had gathered at Michmash." His eye was on the strength of the enemy. Third, "I saw... that you did not come within the days appointed." He had confidence in Samuel, but that human support was not there. But GOD was there. The poor king saw the people deserting him, the power of the enemy, and the absence of the man he leaned on. But he did not see God.
Saul mentions the Lord last, after the Philistines. Yet he was no unbeliever.
Saul is not an unbeliever and does not openly despise Israel's God; he knows that a sacrifice is necessary in order to approach Him. But being a man according to the flesh, he was completely unable to act other than he did. Even so, he is extremely responsible. "What have you done?" Samuel asks him — the same question God had addressed to Cain! As always, the flesh has excellent reasons for acting, and so for disobeying... The flesh has an excuse, even a pious excuse, for its disobedience: "Now the Philistines will come down against me at Gilgal, and I have not sought the favor of the LORD."
Saul's excuse was not even true, and one writer calls it "all the worse for being dressed up as truth" (C Knapp).
Saul makes the phrase sound reluctant, as if he acted against his own wishes. It convicts him instead.
His words are a confession that he knew he had disobeyed God in offering the sacrifices. He would have Samuel believe that it went against his own wishes, and that he had to do it despite his convictions. That showed the unbelief all the more clearly — the unbelief that will not cling to God, at all costs, in obedience. How much is excused in the same way! People excuse their own schemes, encourage the activity of the flesh, and allow fellowship with the world, all on the plea that it was practical. A reluctant conscience has to be forced, because it knows these things are against God. But it will force itself, unless it is subject to God in living faith.
Faith is the opposite: it "never has to 'force' itself; it can always trust God's word, rest on His promise, and wait patiently for Him to keep it" (C Knapp).
Saul had not yet sought the Lord's favour, so he sought it by breaking the Lord's word.
He realised that if the Philistines attacked he would need the help of God. But instead of asking God's direction about the matter, he says, "So I forced myself, and offered the burnt offering." He ignored any thought of HEART DEPENDENCE on God. He forced himself into the outward form of worshipping God, as though that would work like magic. That is man in the flesh. He sees nothing but outward form in the worship of God, and thinks he honours God while disobeying His plain word.
Every reason Saul gives is a circumstance.
It was a plain breach of positive command. Saul might urge, and does urge, the scattering of the people, the failure of Samuel (too quickly assumed), the gathered Philistines. With all this he had nothing at all to do. The king of Israel was only the representative of the heavenly King. Israel was really God's people, and His will alone was absolute in every circumstance that might arise. How good, in fact, to have it so!... With consequences he had nothing whatever to do.
The command came through Samuel, but it came from God. Saul "treated the Word of God, through Samuel, as only Samuel's opinion" (F. B. Hole).
Saul's cover story worked on Saul. It did not work on Samuel.
He thought, no doubt, to cover his wilfulness by a show of piety, but it was a bandage for his own eyes only. Samuel's question, "What have you done?" showed that he was not blinded by it. Mere religiousness may make a man satisfied with himself, as Adam was with his apron of fig leaves. But sooner or later the question must come: "What have you done?" Then everything is upset.
- Sight — Saul saw the scattering people, the massed Philistines, and the missing prophet. He did not see God.
- Excuse — The flesh always finds a reason to disobey, and the reason can be a pious one. Saul had not yet sought the Lord, so he broke the command in order to do it.
- Force — "I forced myself" is a confession, not a defence. A conscience you have to override already knows the act is wrong.
- Form — Worship used as a lucky charm takes the place of heart dependence. A man can think he honours God while disobeying His plain word.
- Outcome — The circumstances were never Saul's to weigh. Obedience would have left the consequences with God. The show of piety collapsed when Samuel asked, "What have you done?"