4 min read

The Witch of En-Dor and the Spirit That Stood Upright

Saul took off every mark of kingship and knocked after dark. When the dead man rose on his feet, the woman knew the visitor before he spoke.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. Ordinary Clothes After Dark
  2. Feet in the Air
  3. Tomorrow You Will Be With Me
  4. No Bargain for the Day
  5. Bread Before Dawn
The Witch of En-Dor and the Spirit That Stood Upright Click for full size

Ordinary Clothes After Dark

Saul reached the house at En-dor after dark in ordinary clothes. He had brought two men he trusted, Abner and Amasa. He had taken off every mark of rank. It was the kind of disguise a man builds when he has no good option left and is ashamed of the one he is about to use.

He himself had expelled the mediums and necromancers from Israel. He had done it by decree, because the Torah forbade the work. Now he stood at one of their doors and asked her to do the thing he had made illegal.

He asked her to bring up Samuel.

Feet in the Air

A summoned spirit comes inverted: head down, feet in the air, as if the world after death keeps a different gravity. One exception changes the posture. When a king is the one asking, the spirit rises upright, in the stance of life. Kingship, in that accounting, is a category death does not fully turn over.

The woman of En-dor did not know who was in her house. She called Samuel. The spirit stood up on his feet.

She screamed at Saul. You are the king.

She could see Samuel and could not hear him. Saul could hear him and could not see him. The two companions neither saw nor heard. Each person in the room was given one piece and denied the rest.

Tomorrow You Will Be With Me

Samuel was not pleased. His first words had the heat of a man dragged back across a border he had crossed cleanly. Saul told him the problem: the Philistines were massing, God had stopped answering through dreams and through the Urim and Thummim and through prophets, and he had nowhere else to turn.

"Why do you ask me, since God has turned from you and become your adversary?" Samuel named Agag. He named the cattle. He named the command that had not been finished. He did not pretend the silence was a mystery.

Then he said, "Tomorrow you and your sons will be with me."

There is a prophet who was stood on his feet to hear God. Ezekiel in exile heard the command: Son of man, stand upon your feet and I shall speak with you. A ruach, a spirit, came into him and set him upright, and he heard. That standing was a gift for a living mouth. Samuel's standing was not a gift. It was the mark of the king who had called him, and the words that followed were a death sentence, not a commission.

No Bargain for the Day

Saul fell full length on the ground. He had eaten nothing all day and through the night. The sentence sat on him and did not move.

No man rules the spirit. No man tells the Angel of Death to wait until the accounts are finished. You cannot send a son or a servant into the war in your place. You cannot bribe the day. Saul had been a king that morning. He could not buy an extra dawn.

Samuel had anointed him, and later had anointed David. The office the dead man had held in life was still heavy enough to stand upright in a forbidden room and refuse comfort.

Bread Before Dawn

The woman had been threatened with death for the work she had just done. She killed the fatted calf herself. She baked bread. She brought the food and set it in front of him. Saul ate. Then he went out before dawn into the last night of his life.

The woman who had known him by the posture of a dead man was the last person who was kind to him. He walked toward the Philistine line with bread in him and no more questions left to ask the dead.


← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

3 sources

The texts behind this telling. Some cards carry a translation of the source; others are our own retelling of it, and each card says which. Every card links out to the original.

Legends of the Jews 3:31Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

Saul's grief was profound. The prophet Samuel, his guide and sometimes his critic, was gone. According to Legends of the Jews, Saul felt isolated, adrift. And in his desperation, he turned to something… unconventional. He sought out the witch of En-dor.

Saul wasn’t exactly upfront about who he was. Accompanied by his adjutants, Abner and Amasa, he disguised himself. But, as we'll see, some secrets are hard to keep, especially from a witch!

There's an interesting rule in necromancy, the art of communicating with the dead. The Zohar tells us that a spirit, when summoned, usually appears upside down – head downward, feet in the air. Unless… unless a king is the one doing the summoning.

So, when the figure of Samuel stood upright before them, the witch instantly knew who her disguised visitor truly was. The air thick with anticipation, the flickering candlelight, and then… the unmistakable presence of a king.

But here's where things get even stranger, adding to the mystery of the encounter. The witch could see Samuel, but she couldn't hear what he said. Saul, on the other hand, heard Samuel's words, but couldn't see him. It’s a peculiar phenomenon described in Legends of the Jews: the conjuror sees the spirit, the one who requested the summoning hears it. And anyone else present? They neither see nor hear a thing.

It's a layered experience, almost like a carefully constructed play. Each person receives a different piece of the puzzle, highlighting the limitations of our perception. Was this a true communication? A trick of the mind? Or something else entirely? The story of Saul and the witch of En-dor leaves us with more questions than answers, a reminder that even in the face of death, the mysteries of life. And the afterlife, remain.

Full source
Tikkunei Zohar 70:7Tikkunei Zohar

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Sefaria-hosted English translation · CC-BY

The Tikkunei (spiritual repair) Zohar, a foundation of Kabbalistic literature, offers a fascinating glimpse into this very question. It paints a picture of the prophet's spirit ascending, reaching a higher realm, and from that vantage point, receiving divine communication.

The book draws our attention to the prophet Ezekiel, specifically to a powerful passage in the Book of Ezekiel. It's where God says to him, "Son of man! Stand upon your feet and I shall speak with you" (Ez. 2:1).

Think about the sheer command in that statement! It's not a gentle request, but a powerful call to attention, a preparation for something profound. The Tikkunei Zohar sees this as the very beginning of the prophet's ascent.

Then, Ezekiel continues, "And there came into me a ru-aḥ, when He spoke to me, and it stood me upon my feet, and I heard it speaking to me.." (Ez. 2:2). What is this ru-aḥ? It's often translated as "spirit" or "wind," but in this context, it's more than just a breeze. It's a divine breath, a surge of spiritual energy that empowers Ezekiel, enabling him to stand firm and receive the divine message. It's the very force that allows him to connect with the divine.

Ezekiel later says, "And a ru-aḥ lifted me and I heard behind me..." (Ez. 3:12). Again, we see the ru-aḥ at work, lifting him, transporting him, shifting his perspective. The Tikkunei Zohar makes a crucial connection here, linking these experiences to the Shekhinah, the divine feminine presence. It's said of the Shekhinah, "...and you shall see My back parts aḥoraiy..." (Ex. 33:23). So, when Ezekiel says, "...and I heard behind me aḥaraiy," the Tikkunei Zohar suggests that he is perceiving the divine from the perspective of the Shekhinah.

Of the prophet not just hearing, but being lifted, transformed, and positioned to receive divine wisdom through the very essence of the divine feminine. It speaks to a profound intimacy, a closeness to the divine source.

This idea that prophets receive their messages from "behind," from the aḥoraiy, is fascinating. It suggests that prophetic insight isn't always about seeing the future clearly laid out before us. Sometimes, it's about understanding the past, the consequences of actions, the subtle currents that shape our present and future. The prophets, in a sense, are reading the divine "backwards" to understand where we are going.

What can we learn from this? Perhaps it's that true understanding requires a shift in perspective, a willingness to be lifted and moved by a force greater than ourselves. Maybe it’s a reminder that sometimes the most profound truths are found not by looking ahead, but by looking back, by understanding the deeper currents of the past that shape our present. And perhaps, just perhaps, by listening for the whispers of the divine ru-aḥ that surrounds us all.

Full source
Kohelet Rabbah 8:1Kohelet Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

Kohelet Rabbah turns to No One Rules the Spirit or Controls the Day of Death.

The opening line, “There is no man who rules the spirit,” is interpreted in multiple ways. One fascinating reading, according to the Rabbis, is that no one can control the malach ha-mavet, the Angel of Death, preventing him from taking them. How do we know angels are considered spirits? Well, (Psalm 104:4) tells us that God "makes his angels spirits." So, no matter how powerful or wealthy you are, you can't bribe or outsmart the Angel of Death.

“there is no rule over the day of death” means just that. You can't negotiate with death, can you? You can't say, "Hold on, let me just finish my taxes, then I’ll be right with you." Nope. As the text bluntly puts it, a person cannot say to the angel of death: ‘Wait for me until I make my accounting, and then I will come.’

"There is no release in war," is also fascinating. It isn't necessarily about literal warfare, but about evading fate. You can’t send a substitute – “My son, my servant, or a member of my household will take my place." Ultimately, each of us faces our own challenges, and we can't pawn them off on someone else.

And finally, “wickedness will not rescue its owner.” You can’t bribe your way out of judgment. You can't commute your sentence or appeal your conviction.

Rabbi Nehemya offers another perspective on that first line, "There is no man who rules the spirit." He suggests it means that no prophet of Israel can control the spirit of God, preventing Him from conveying prophecy. Even if a prophet tries to resist – "I will not mention Him, and I will not speak anymore in His name" – as Jeremiah says in (Jeremiah 20:9), the word of God burns within them like a fire. And the prophet cannot refrain from conveying his prophecy even if it is a prophecy of death and destruction, alluding to (Jeremiah 15:2): “Those who are to death, to death…”

Rabbi Ḥagai, quoting Rabbi Yitzḥak, brings in a different angle. He says that the cynics of that generation were scoffing at the prophecies, saying, "The vision that he is foretelling is for many days to come" (Ezekiel 12:27). But the prophet retorts, "For it is in your days, defiant house" (Ezekiel 12:25). The message? Don't think you can outsmart fate or postpone divine judgment.

Rabbi Eliezer ben Yaakov takes it to a political level: there is no man who rules the spirit of the kingdoms, to prevent their rule over him. We are all subject to earthly powers. And “there is no rule over the day of death,” as it is stated: “Snares of death confronted me” (Psalms 18:6). There is no escape from God’s retribution by waging war, just as (Psalms 78:49) says: “A band [mishlaḥat] of destroying animals.” However, repentance can mitigate the decree.

The Rabbis offer yet another take: “There is no man who rules his own spirit to bring about its termination from him.” We don’t have the power to simply end our own existence. Rabbi Ḥanina elaborates, pointing to (Zechariah 12:1): “And fashions [veyotzer] the spirit of man within him.” God has bound [tzar] the spirit of man within him, because if He hadn’t, we’d just cast it away when trouble came.

Rabbi Levi notes that King David is mentioned approximately fifty-two times in scripture. But when he was close to death, it says, "The days of David drew near to die" (I Kings 2:1) because, again, “there is no rule over the day of death.”

And finally, Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, quoting Rabbi Levi, tells a curious story about the trumpets used in Moses' time. One verse says they were used to gather the people (Numbers 10:3), while another says Moses assembled the elders himself (Deuteronomy 31:28). So where were the trumpets? The Holy One, blessed be He, didn’t want Moses' sons blowing the trumpets after his death, a tradition often reserved for kings, because “there is no rule over the day of death.” Even great leaders are subject to the same fate as everyone else. Rabbi Elazar, quoting Rabbi Simon, adds that God accorded great honor to Moses, as He said to him: “Craft for you two trumpets” (Numbers 10:2), but not for Joshua.

So, what's the takeaway from all this? Perhaps it’s a reminder that while we strive for control, there are forces beyond our grasp. It's about humility, recognizing our limitations, and focusing on what we can control: our actions, our choices, and our relationships. Maybe true wisdom lies not in trying to rule the spirit or cheat death, but in living a life of meaning and purpose, knowing that every day is a gift.

Full source