Commentary - 1 Samuel 10:14-16

Bird's-eye view

In this brief and seemingly incidental exchange, we are given a crucial insight into the character of Saul at the very beginning of his career. Fresh from his private anointing by the prophet Samuel, an event laden with spiritual signs and prophetic utterances, Saul returns to his family. His uncle, naturally curious, questions him about his encounter with the seer. Saul's response is a masterpiece of selective truth-telling. He reveals the mundane detail about the donkeys being found but completely conceals the central, life-altering news that he has been anointed as the first king of Israel. This is not presented as a cunning act of political maneuvering, but rather as an exhibition of a certain kind of humility, perhaps even a timidity or reluctance to embrace the high calling God has placed upon him. It is a quiet moment, but one that foreshadows both the initial promise and the ultimate tragedy of Saul's reign. The man who is hesitant to speak of the kingdom in private will later be the man who hesitates to obey the King of the kingdom in public.

This passage serves as a hinge. It concludes the private anointing of Saul and sets the stage for his public selection by lot in the remainder of the chapter. The contrast between the profound spiritual reality of what has just occurred and Saul's plain, unadorned report to his uncle is striking. God has just set in motion the establishment of the monarchy, a pivotal moment in redemptive history, and Saul's report is simply, "the donkeys are fine." This highlights a central theme in the book of Samuel: the vast difference between God's perspective and man's. Man looks on the outward appearance, on the practical details of lost livestock, but the Lord looks on the heart and is orchestrating the rise and fall of kings for His own glory.

Outline

Context In 1 Samuel

This passage comes immediately after one of the most significant moments in Saul's life. In 1 Samuel 9, Saul, on a workaday errand to find his father's lost donkeys, is providentially led to the prophet Samuel. In the opening of chapter 10, Samuel anoints Saul with oil, kisses him, and declares him prince over Israel (10:1). Samuel then gives Saul three prophetic signs to confirm his calling, all of which come to pass exactly as predicted (10:2-7). The climax of this is the Spirit of God rushing upon Saul, causing him to prophesy with a band of prophets, a transformative experience that makes him "another man" (10:6, 10). The encounter with his uncle, therefore, happens when the oil of anointing is still fresh and the echoes of prophecy are still in his ears. This context makes his silence about the kingdom all the more significant. It is followed by the public assembly at Mizpah, where Saul is chosen by lot and, consistent with his character here, is found hiding among the baggage (10:17-23).

Key Issues

A Humble Beginning

We often think of humility as a quiet virtue, and so it is. But there is a difference between a humility that trusts God's timing and a timidity that shrinks from God's calling. In these early chapters, Saul displays a character that could be interpreted either way, and this ambiguity is part of the tragedy of his story. When Samuel first tells him he is the desire of all Israel, Saul's response is one of self-effacement: "Am I not a Benjamite, from the least of the tribes of Israel, and is not my clan the humblest of all the clans of the tribe of Benjamin?" (1 Sam 9:21). Later, when he is publicly acclaimed king, he is found hiding in the baggage train (1 Sam 10:22).

His silence here before his uncle fits this pattern. On the one hand, this can be seen as commendable prudence. He has been given a staggering piece of information, and perhaps he is wisely waiting for God and His prophet to reveal it in their own time and way. He is not rushing to broadcast his new status. There is no pride here, no self-promotion. But on the other hand, this silence could be the first sign of a man overwhelmed by the calling, a man who is, at his core, insecure and fearful. The Spirit had just come upon him powerfully, yet he defaults to speaking only of the donkeys. The great things of God remain locked in his heart, not as a treasured secret, but perhaps as a terrifying one. This is the kind of humility that starts well but, because it is rooted more in fear of man than in fear of God, can curdle into disobedience when pressure is applied.

Verse by Verse Commentary

14 Now Saul’s uncle said to him and his young man, “Where did you go?” And he said, “To look for the donkeys. And we saw that they were not anywhere, so we went to Samuel.”

The question from Saul's uncle is perfectly natural. Saul and the servant have been gone for some time, long enough for his father Kish to worry about them (1 Sam 9:5). The uncle's question is a simple request for an account of their journey. Saul's answer is equally straightforward and entirely truthful, as far as it goes. He recounts the initial purpose of their trip, the search for the donkeys. He notes their lack of success. And then he mentions the turning point of the journey: "we went to Samuel." This is the crucial detail. In that culture, Samuel was a man of great renown, the judge and prophet of Israel. To say you went to see Samuel was to say you had an encounter with a significant spiritual authority. This part of the answer would naturally provoke further questions.

15 And Saul’s uncle said, “Please tell me what Samuel said to you.”

And so the follow-up question comes, just as we would expect. The uncle's curiosity is piqued. What business would a young man from the smallest tribe have with the great prophet Samuel, especially when he was supposed to be looking for livestock? The request is polite but insistent: "Please tell me." This is a moment of decision for Saul. He is being asked directly to report on a conversation that contained the most momentous news of his life, and arguably, in the life of the nation up to that point. How will the newly anointed king handle his first interrogation, however informal?

16 So Saul said to his uncle, “He told us plainly that the donkeys had been found.” But he did not tell him about the matter of the kingdom which Samuel had said.

Saul's reply is a masterclass in deflection. He answers the question truthfully, but not fully. "He told us plainly that the donkeys had been found." This was true; Samuel had told him that (1 Sam 9:20). It was the resolution to the mundane problem that had started the whole journey. By reporting this, Saul gives his uncle a satisfying, practical answer that neatly concludes the story of the lost animals. It is a closed loop. The donkeys were lost, we looked for them, we asked the prophet, and he told us they were found. End of story. But of course, it was not the end of the story. It was the beginning of a far greater one.

The narrator then gives us the divine commentary on Saul's words: "But he did not tell him about the matter of the kingdom which Samuel had said." This is the heart of the passage. Saul deliberately omits the central fact. He withholds the anointing, the kiss, the signs, the prophecy, the entire "matter of the kingdom." This silence is loud. It is a choice. He is keeping the secret of his kingship locked away. As we noted, this can be read as a prudent humility, waiting on God's public timing. But it also hints at a man who is not yet ready to bear the weight of the crown, even in conversation. He is more comfortable talking about donkeys than about destinies.

Application

There is a right time to speak and a right time to be silent. When God calls a man to a particular task, the calling is often private and personal long before it is public. There is a season of preparation, of letting the truth of the calling sink into one's own soul before announcing it from the housetops. In this, Saul's reticence can be a lesson in prudence. Not every spiritual experience needs to be immediately broadcast on social media. Some things are to be treasured and pondered in the heart, waiting for the Lord to bring them to light in His way.

However, this passage also serves as a warning. Saul's humility was, in the beginning, one of his most attractive qualities. God chose him when he was "little in his own eyes" (1 Sam 15:17). But a humility that is not robustly rooted in the fear of God can easily become the fear of man. A reluctance to speak of God's calling can become a reluctance to obey God's commands. Saul's story is a tragedy of a man who started small, was made great by God, but refused to stay small before God. He began by hiding the matter of the kingdom from his uncle, and he ended by disobeying the matter of the King's command concerning Amalek.

Our calling as Christians is to be ambassadors for a king, Jesus Christ. And while there is a place for quiet wisdom, there is no place for a shame or fear that keeps us silent about "the matter of the kingdom." Unlike Saul, we are not to conceal the identity of our King. Saul spoke of the donkeys and was silent about the crown. We are often tempted to speak of everything under the sun, all the lost donkeys of our modern world, while remaining silent about the crown rights of King Jesus. Let us learn from Saul's good beginning, his initial humility, but let us also take heed from where his path led. Let our humility be the kind that says, "He must increase, but I must decrease," a humility that is bold to speak of the kingdom precisely because we know we are not the king.