Today, let's dive into a fascinating, and frankly, unsettling story from Vayikra Rabbah 26, found within the larger collection of Midrash Rabbah, about King Saul and his fateful encounter with a necromancer. It's a tale of desperation, disobedience, and the dark consequences that follow when we turn away from the divine.
The story begins with a pointed question: what comes before this story? The text references Leviticus 20:27: “A man or a woman, if they are a conjurer or a necromancer, [they shall be put to death].” Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, quoting Rabbi Levi, makes a direct connection: “’A man,’ this is Saul. ‘Or a woman,’ this is the woman who engaged in conjuring.”
Saul, feeling cornered by the Philistines and abandoned by God, seeks guidance from a forbidden source. As Rabbi Levi states in the name of Rabbi Ḥama bar Ḥanina, referencing Deuteronomy 28:13, “You will be only above [and you will not be below].” Saul should have consulted the Urim and Tumim – a sort of divine oracle worn by the High Priest – "from above," but instead, he goes "below" to a conjurer.
Think about that for a moment. Saul, the king, the one who had previously banished all the conjurers and necromancers from the land, now finds himself seeking their help. It’s a stunning act of hypocrisy and desperation. He even disguises himself! The text says, "Saul disguised himself [vayitḥapess]" – meaning, he became free [ḥofshi] of the kingship. This act, the Etz Yosef commentary points out, effectively ended his reign.
Reish Lakish offers a powerful analogy: a king orders all the roosters slaughtered, then later asks for one to crow to signal the dawn. Saul, having outlawed necromancy, now begs for its services.
He even takes two men with him, Avner and Amasa. Rabbi Aivu points out the importance of proper conduct, noting that a person shouldn't travel alone with fewer than two companions. He illustrates this with examples of Abraham and Saul, both taking two attendants on important journeys.
They arrive at the woman’s dwelling at night. Now, here's an interesting detail: necromancy was believed to be ineffective at night! So why then? The text explains that "the hour was dark for them like night," meaning the light of God did not shine upon him. He was spiritually lost.
Saul, under oath, assures the woman she will not be blamed. Reish Lakish compares this to a woman swearing by her husband’s life while with her lover. A profound betrayal of trust.
The woman asks whom she should raise from the dead. Should it be someone who defied God, like Pharaoh, or someone who praised Him, like the Israelites at the Red Sea? Ultimately, Saul asks her to raise Samuel.
What follows is…intense. The woman is frightened when she sees Samuel, recognizing Saul despite his disguise. Why? Because, the text explains, spirits ascend differently for commoners and kings. A king ascends face up.
Saul, hearing the woman describe the figure as elohim (a term sometimes used for divine beings or powerful figures), grows frightened. Some say righteous men ascended with Samuel, indicated by the plural verb "ascending" [olim].
Now, there's a curious aside here about raising the dead with…well, let's just say intimate body parts. The text notes that the one who raises the dead sees them but doesn't hear their voice, and the one who needs them hears their voice but doesn't see them. In this case, the woman sees Samuel, but doesn’t hear him. Saul hears Samuel, but doesn’t see him. Avner and Amasa neither see nor hear him.
Samuel, understandably irritated, asks Saul, "Why have you irritated me to raise me?" Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi would weep when he reached this verse, thinking of Amos 4:13, "For behold the former of mountains, and creator of wind, who tells man what his conversation is." Even the smallest, most insignificant conversations are recorded and judged.
Samuel rebukes Saul, reminding him that God has departed from him. Saul tries to explain his dire situation, but Samuel cuts him off, declaring that God has become his adversary and will give the kingdom to David.
Saul tries to argue that Samuel’s words are harsher than before. Samuel replies that he is now in the world of truth, no longer bound by the fear of Saul's power. He lays out the consequences of Saul's disobedience, specifically his failure to destroy Amalek.
The prophecy is grim: Saul and his sons will die in battle. But there's a sliver of solace: if Saul accepts his fate, he will be "with" Samuel, meaning he will share a place in the afterlife.
Saul, terrified, collapses. He lies to Avner and Amasa, telling them Samuel predicted victory and high positions for his sons. He then marches his sons to their deaths.
Reish Lakish paints a heartbreaking picture: God points out Saul to the angels, marveling that a man would knowingly take his sons to their deaths, embracing the divine judgment.
Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, again quoting Rabbi Levi, says God showed Moses each generation, including Saul and his sons falling by the sword. Moses is horrified that the first king of Israel will die such a violent death. God tells him to speak to the priests Saul murdered, as they are the ones condemning him.
The text concludes by listing Saul's sins: killing the priests of Nov, sparing Agag, disobeying Samuel, consulting a necromancer, and failing to seek counsel from God. As Job 34:11 says, "For He repays a person for his action, and according to the conduct of a man He will provide for him."
So, what are we left with? A chilling reminder that even kings are not above the law, and that desperation can lead us down paths we should never tread. Saul's story is a cautionary tale about the importance of obedience, the dangers of seeking forbidden knowledge, and the ultimate consequences of turning away from God. It makes you wonder: when facing difficult choices, where do we turn for guidance? And what price are we willing to pay?