Commentary - 1 Samuel 28:20-25

Bird's-eye view

In this final, pathetic scene of 1 Samuel 28, we witness the complete collapse of Israel's first king. Having received his final sentence from the apparition of Samuel, Saul is a man utterly undone. The passage shows us the physical manifestation of spiritual ruin. Saul's disobedience has not just cost him his kingdom; it has cost him his very strength, his will to live. Yet, in this dark moment, an unlikely figure shows a measure of kindness. A woman, a necromancer whom Saul himself had outlawed, provides a meal. This act of hospitality, however, does not alter the trajectory of God's judgment. It serves rather to highlight the depth of Saul's fall and the strange providence of God, who can use even a condemned witch to provide the condemned king his last meal before his final battle. It is a grim supper, a feast of despair before the end.

The central theme is the finality of God's judgment on unrepentant sin. Saul's terror is not godly sorrow leading to repentance; it is the raw fear of a man who has rejected God and is now face to face with the consequences. The actions of the woman and Saul's servants, compelling him to eat, are a picture of how men, even with good intentions, often seek to minister to the body when the soul is what is truly perishing. They are fattening a calf for a man who is about to be slaughtered himself. The meal gives him physical strength, but only enough strength to walk to his own execution on Mount Gilboa.

Outline

Context In 1 Samuel

This passage is the culmination of Saul's long and tragic downfall, which began chapters earlier with his partial obedience regarding the Amalekites (1 Sam 15). Having been rejected by God as king, Saul has spent years consumed by jealousy and paranoia, hunting David, the Lord's anointed. Now, on the eve of his final battle with the Philistines, God has refused to answer him by any legitimate means (1 Sam 28:6). His flagrant disobedience in consulting a medium at Endor is the final nail in his coffin. The message from Samuel confirms his doom: the kingdom is given to David, and Saul and his sons will die tomorrow. Our text picks up in the immediate aftermath of this terrifying prophecy. It is the lowest point of a life lived in rebellion against the clear commands of God.

Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 20 Then Saul quickly fell full length upon the ground and was very afraid because of the words of Samuel; also there was no strength in him, for he had eaten no food all day and all night.

Saul's reaction is total and complete collapse. This is not a respectful bow, but a dead faint, a man flattened by the weight of God's sentence. The Hebrew says he "fell with his full stature." He is emptied. His fear is not the beginning of wisdom; it is the terror of the damned. He is afraid "because of the words of Samuel," not because he has offended a holy God. His concern is for the consequences, not the sin itself. This is the difference between attrition and contrition. The text adds a practical note: he had no strength because he had not eaten. Spiritual rebellion has physical consequences. Fasting can be an act of piety, but in Saul's case, it was a function of his anxiety and distress. He was too consumed by his fear to eat, and now the terrible news has knocked out what little physical reserve he had left.

v. 21 And the woman came to Saul and saw that he was terrified and said to him, “Behold, your servant-woman has listened to your voice, and I have taken my life in my hand and have listened to your words which you spoke to me.”

The woman approaches the prostrate king. She sees his terror, and her response is a strange mixture of deference and self-justification. She calls herself his "servant-woman" and reminds him that she obeyed his voice. She "took her life in her hand" by performing this séance, as Saul himself had made it a capital offense. She is essentially saying, "I risked everything for you, I did what you asked." There is an irony here that is thick enough to cut with a knife. The king who disobeyed God's voice is now being reminded that a witch obeyed his voice. She is, in a twisted way, modeling the obedience that Saul himself refused to give to the Lord. Her appeal is based on her risky act of service to him.

v. 22 So now also, please listen to the voice of your servant-woman, and let me set a piece of bread before you that you may eat and have strength when you go on your way.”

Having established her credentials as one who listened to him, she now asks him to listen to her. The request is simple: let me give you some food. Her concern is practical. She wants him to have strength for his journey. She is ministering to his physical needs, which is all she knows how to do. She cannot offer him spiritual comfort, for she deals in the demonic. She cannot offer him hope, for the prophet of God has just extinguished it. All she can offer is a piece of bread. This is the world's solution to a soul in torment: have a sandwich. It is a kindness, of a sort, but it is a kindness that cannot touch the real problem. She wants to give him strength to go on his way, and his way is leading directly to his death.

v. 23 But he refused and said, “I will not eat.” However, his servants together with the woman urged him, and he listened to them. So he arose from the ground and sat on the bed.

Saul's initial refusal is the response of a man who has given up completely. "I will not eat." What's the point? He is a dead man walking. His despair is absolute. But he is not alone. His own servants, who had accompanied him on this fool's errand, join with the woman to "urge" him. The word implies strong, persistent pressure. And Saul, the king who would not listen to the voice of God through Samuel, now "listened to them." His will is broken. He is passive, compliant. He is persuaded to do something for his own physical good by the very people who accompanied him in his spiritual treason. He gets up from the dirt and sits on the bed, a small move from utter prostration to mere collapse.

v. 24 And the woman had a fattened calf in the house, and she quickly sacrificed it; and she took flour, kneaded it, and baked unleavened bread from it.

This is a remarkable display of hospitality. A "fattened calf" was not an everyday meal; it was for a special occasion, like the one the father of the prodigal son would later prepare. She acts with haste, a sign of respect for an honored guest. She kills the calf, kneads dough, and bakes unleavened bread because it is quicker. This entire scene is a strange echo of Abraham's hospitality to the three visitors at Mamre (Gen 18). But here, the host is a witch, and the guest is a doomed king. She is preparing a feast, a last supper, for a man whose life is forfeit. The care and expense she puts into this meal stand in stark contrast to the spiritual squalor of the situation. It is a picture of misplaced kindness, of ministering to the flesh when the spirit has been sentenced to death.

v. 25 And she brought it before Saul and his servants, and they ate. Then they arose and went away that night.

The meal is served, and they eat. Saul partakes, regaining some measure of physical strength. But what is this strength for? It is strength to march to his fated battle. It is strength to die. This meal does not change his destiny; it only enables him to meet it. After they have eaten, they get up and leave "that night." They came under the cover of darkness to seek forbidden knowledge, and they leave in darkness, possessing a terrible certainty. The night is a fitting backdrop for the entire episode. Saul's reign is ending in darkness, his hope is extinguished, and he walks out into the night to meet the God he has abandoned.

Application

Saul's end is a terrifying warning against trifling with God. Disobedience, when it becomes a settled pattern, hardens the heart and leads to destruction. The fear Saul experiences is not repentance. True repentance agrees with God about the sin; Saul is simply terrified of the punishment. We must examine our own hearts when we are confronted with our sin. Do we grieve because we have offended a holy and loving Father, or are we just trying to avoid the consequences? Godly sorrow leads to life, but worldly sorrow, like Saul's, leads to death (2 Cor 7:10).

We also see the futility of worldly comforts in the face of spiritual realities. The woman's hospitality was, on one level, commendable. She showed kindness to a man in distress. But a good meal cannot save a condemned soul. Our culture is full of well-meaning people offering physical and psychological solutions to what are fundamentally spiritual problems. We must have compassion, we must offer help, but we must never forget that the only true answer for a soul under the judgment of God is the gospel of Jesus Christ. Saul needed a Savior, not a fattened calf. He needed to fall on his face in genuine repentance, not just in terrified despair.

Finally, this passage reminds us that God's purposes will stand. Saul's rebellion did not thwart God's plan to install David as king. Our sin, though grievous to God, cannot derail His sovereign decree. Saul's last meal, provided by a witch, was as much a part of God's plan as was his anointing by Samuel years before. This should not make us cavalier about sin, but rather should fill us with awe at a God who weaves even the dark threads of human rebellion into the tapestry of His perfect will, all for His own glory.