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1 Samuel
1 Samuel 28 — Desperation, disguise, and a message no one wanted to hear
7 min read
This is one of the strangest, darkest chapters in all of . — the man who once stood a head taller than everyone in , the man God chose as the first king — has been reduced to sneaking through the dark in a disguise, looking for a medium he himself had outlawed. Everything about this scene feels wrong. And that's because everything about where Saul has ended up is wrong.
Meanwhile, is tangled in his own mess — living among the , pretending to be their ally while trying not to become their weapon against his own people. War is coming, and nobody in this chapter is in a good position.
The Philistines were mobilizing for a full-scale war against Israel. And Achish, the king who'd been sheltering David, made his expectations clear:
"You understand — you and your men are coming with me into battle."
David's response was carefully vague. He told Achish:
"Very well. You'll see for yourself what your servant can do."
And Achish, reading it as loyalty, promoted him on the spot:
"Good. I'll make you my personal bodyguard for life."
Think about the corner David had painted himself into. He'd been living in territory to escape Saul, and now the Philistines expected him to fight against his own people — against . His answer was deliberately ambiguous. "You'll see what I can do" could mean anything. David was stalling, and the tension was about to get a lot worse. But the story pivots here — because what was happening on the other side of the battlefield was far more tragic.
Before we get to what Saul did next, the text pauses to set the scene — and every detail matters.
was dead. All Israel had mourned him and buried him in Ramah, his hometown. The who had Saul, guided him, warned him, and finally told him God was done with his kingship — that voice was gone. And Saul himself had banished every medium and necromancer from the land. That's important. Remember it.
The Philistines set up camp at Shunem. Saul gathered his army at Mount Gilboa. And when Saul looked across the valley and saw the size of the army, he was terrified. His heart trembled.
So he did what anyone would a king would do — he asked God for direction. He tried dreams. He tried the . He tried . Nothing. Total silence.
Here's what makes this so devastating: there was a time when Saul had access to God. There was a time when spoke to him, when the Spirit came upon him. But Saul had spent years ignoring God's voice, disobeying God's commands, and doing things his own way. And now, in the moment he needed God most, there was nothing. Not for the sake of cruelty — but the natural result of a man who kept walking away from the only voice that could save him.
What Saul did next was the act of a man who had run out of options — and run out of .
He told his servants:
"Find me a woman who's a medium. I need to go to her and get answers."
His servants knew of one — a woman at En-dor.
So Saul — the king of — took off his royal clothes, put on ordinary garments so no one would recognize him, and crept out under cover of darkness with two men. They found the woman at night, and Saul said:
"I need you to call up a spirit for me. Bring up whoever I name."
But the woman was suspicious. She told him:
"You know what Saul has done — he's cut off every medium and necromancer in the land. Why are you setting a trap for me? Are you trying to get me killed?"
And here's where it gets almost unbearable to read. Saul swore an — and he swore it by the Lord:
"As the Lord lives, no will come to you for this."
The man invoking God's name to guarantee safety for a practice God had forbidden. The man who outlawed mediums now begging one for help. The man who couldn't get God to speak to him through any legitimate channel, now trying the one channel God had explicitly condemned. Every layer of this is a contradiction. And Saul couldn't even see it anymore.
The woman agreed. She asked:
"Who do you want me to bring up?"
Saul answered:
"Bring up ."
And then something happened that even the medium didn't expect. When she saw what appeared, she screamed. This wasn't the usual routine. Whatever came up was real — and it terrified her. She turned on Saul immediately:
"Why did you deceive me? You're Saul!"
She'd figured it out. Only the king would have the audacity to summon the . Saul tried to calm her:
"Don't be afraid. What do you see?"
The woman described what she was looking at:
"I see a divine being coming up out of the earth."
Saul pressed further:
"What does he look like?"
She said:
"An old man, wrapped in a robe."
And Saul knew. It was Samuel. He fell to the ground, face down, and bowed.
There's a lot of debate about what exactly happened here — whether God actually allowed Samuel to appear, or whether this was something else entirely. But the text describes it straightforwardly: Samuel spoke, and what he said was completely consistent with everything he'd said while alive. Whatever this was, the message was real.
This is the heaviest part of the chapter. Let it sit.
spoke first, and he wasn't gentle:
"Why have you disturbed me by bringing me up?"
poured out everything:
"I'm in terrible distress. The are attacking me, and God has turned away from me. He won't answer me anymore — not through , not through dreams. I summoned you to tell me what to do."
And Samuel's response was devastating. No comfort. No strategy. Just the truth:
"Why are you asking me, when the Lord has turned away from you and become your enemy? The Lord has done exactly what he told you through me — he has torn the out of your hand and given it to your neighbor, . Because you didn't obey the Lord's voice. Because you didn't carry out his against the . That's why this is happening to you today."
Then came the words no one would ever want to hear:
"The Lord will hand — and you — over to the . Tomorrow, you and your sons will be with me. The Lord will give Israel's army into the hands of the ."
That's not a warning. That's a sentence. Tomorrow, Saul and his sons would die. The he'd clung to so desperately was already gone. The that seemed manageable at the time — the moment he spared the king and the best livestock when God said destroy everything — had led here. Not overnight. Through years of compounding choices that each seemed small enough to justify. Until there was nothing left.
Let me be honest with you: this passage isn't comfortable. It's not supposed to be. The silence of God in someone's life isn't always dramatic. Sometimes it's just the slow result of a long pattern of choosing your own way over his. And by the time you notice the silence, you've been walking away for longer than you realized.
collapsed. He fell flat on the ground, full length, overwhelmed with fear at Samuel's words. He had no strength left — he hadn't eaten anything all day or all night.
And then something unexpected happened. The woman — this medium who'd been operating outside , who Saul had terrified just minutes earlier — looked at the broken king on her floor and showed him :
"Look — I obeyed you. I put my life on the line and did what you asked. Now please, obey me. Let me give you something to eat so you'll have the strength to leave."
Saul refused:
"I won't eat."
But his servants and the woman insisted, and eventually he gave in. He pulled himself off the ground and sat on the bed. The woman had a fattened calf — she slaughtered it quickly, took flour, kneaded dough, and baked unleavened bread. She set it all before Saul and his servants.
They ate. And then they got up and walked out into the night.
That's how the chapter ends. No resolution. No rescue. Just a condemned king eating a last meal prepared by a woman who had more compassion than anyone else in the room. There's something almost unbearably human about it — a woman who broke at the king's request, then fed him when he fell apart. Kindness from the most unlikely source, in the darkest possible moment. Sometimes that's how it works. doesn't always show up where you'd expect it.
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