Introduction

The books of 1 and 2 Samuel contain some of the most beloved narratives of the Bible: the boy-prophet Samuel asleep in the tabernacle at Shiloh, the blasphemous Philistine giant Goliath, the beautiful but forbidden Bathsheba, and Absalom’s senseless rebellion. Perhaps less well-known to many readers are the contributions of these books to Israel’s concept of “messiah” and the emphasis on the Davidic covenant. All these and many more are combined with an occasional poetic section to relate the acts of God in Israel’s early monarchy. Together they create an extended narrative or historical book.

As historical books, 1-2 Samuel introduce the reader to scores of people and places over nearly a century of history. This commentary will make no attempt to discuss every geographical, historical, or grammatical detail of the text because of the nature of the volume as an “application commentary” and because of the constraints of space. For greater detail on these issues, the reader is encouraged to consult the critical commentaries, the best of which are noted often in the footnotes and listed in the bibliography.

Reading Israel’s History Books

TODAY’S READERS SOMETIMES FORGET that the Bible’s “historical books” were not meant to present a history of Israel and that we as Christians are not nurtured primarily by a study of history in and of itself. One of my former teachers warned that commentators working on the historical books are sometimes so fascinated by historical questions that they often neglect “their main business,” which is “the elucidation of what the books mean to convey.”1 Though the literary genre of these books is historical narrative, we should remember their real nature as sermonic tracts. They invite us to follow the historical acts of God in early Israel, but they do much more besides. The narrative in 1-2 Samuel invites us to enter into the story, to become part of the continuing saga of God’s work in the world. Although this commentary will necessarily deal with certain pertinent historical features of these two biblical books, we will focus primarily on these books as “witnessing tradition.” In order to hear God’s invitation to become part of that tradition, we need to keep four guidelines before us as we proceed through 1-2 Samuel.2

(1) The Bible’s historical narratives illustrate indirectly or subtly truths explained more directly elsewhere in Scripture. When relating historical events, individual narrators fall on a scale ranging between “showing” and “telling.” Some merely present the story (“showing”) without interrupting to explain the significance. These narrators rely on the sheer power of the story, leaving implications to the reader. Others insert authoritative explanations to evaluate motives or qualities of characters (“telling”).3 In general, 1-2 Samuel favor “showing” to “telling.” On rare occasions, the historian has inserted explicit comments, but in most cases the bare power of the story carries the reader forward. On the one hand, this “showing” technique presents us with some of the most compelling episodes of the Bible. On the other hand, the theological significance of individual episodes may be expounded elsewhere in Scripture, or not at all, leaving us to make our own application.

(2) Narratives of the Old Testament historical books may have three levels of interpretation: the universal, the national, and the individual.4 (a) The universal level refers to narratives that contribute to the universal work of God in creation. This level of interpretation has creation itself at its beginning and the culmination of Christ’s work in the end times as its conclusion. (b) The national level has to do with the macrostory of God’s redemptive work in Israel. This level of contribution has the call of Abraham and the ancestral narratives as its beginning point and the restoration of Judah in the postexilic period as its conclusion. (c) The individual level of interpretation consists of the thousands of episodes that comprise the other two. In Old Testament narratives, every individual narrative contributes to the national level of interpretation, which makes its own contribution to the universal level.5 In 1-2 Samuel in particular, we will be dealing with some of the most important narratives in the Bible on the national level. But there are many texts in which we will work with multiple levels at once; that is, the individual narrative will have both a national and universal application.

(3) The events narrated in 1-2 Samuel serve as the backbone for God’s revelation, but they are not themselves his revelation for our times. Instead, the events are encapsulated in sacred writings as God’s revelation. If in reading historical books our purpose is to reconstruct the events as they happened, we miss the truth and power of the narrative. The historian assumes the reality of certain key occurrences as actual historical events, and it would be impossible to read the books rightly without considering that history. But these narratives are “more than history, not less than history”; that is, they place before us an interpretation of God’s mighty acts and their implications for our lives.6 That interpretation is as important as the events themselves.

This point has important implications for our reading of 1-2 Samuel, because today’s Christian readers are sometimes distressed by apparent contradictions in biblical narrative. But the very presence of history writing in the Old Testament creates an interesting paradox. On the one hand, history is an important instrument of revelation, the means of theologizing favored by Israelite authors, and in most cases they assumed the events they were describing actually occurred. On the other hand, the historians were not concerned with writing an exact history, that is, history in a modern sense.7 Ancient Israelite historiography is not the same as modern history writing. Historiography by definition involves various levels of interpretation: selection, organization, and the drive to establish patterns of causation.8 Biblical historiography, in contradistinction to modern history writing since the Enlightenment, locates the causes of human events in the passions and purposes of Yahweh, the God of Israel.9

So, for example, an earnest and careful reader trying to reconstruct the events of Saul’s life or David’s reign may become confused at a number of critical junctures, because chronology was not particularly important to our historians. The sequence of events was at times moved around in order to make the theological point of the text. For example, the details of the Philistine-Israelite war in the Jezreel Valley recorded in 1 Samuel 28–31 are arranged thematically in order to contrast Saul and David, so that the chronological sequence of the events was altered (see comments on 1 Sam. 29–30). Likewise, there are features of the reign of David reported out of chronological sequence in order to portray David under the blessing and David under the curse.10

All of this warns us not to look to the Bible for a positivistic reconstruction of Israelite history. We must be satisfied with less than a complete picture of “what really happened” and strive to read Scripture for the right purposes. We must come to see history as a primary, though not the exclusive datum for theology.11 Instead, we must learn to read these books as “kerygmatic history,” or “preached history.”12 In reviewing Israel’s early monarchy, this extended sermon seeks to apply the lessons of that past, in order for the reader to repent and submit to God’s leading.

(4) Christian readers should also be sensitive to the supracultural nature of biblical truth. The task of interpretation is only complete when we have learned to apply the truth of the text to our own culture, and also—to borrow a term from missiologists—to contextualize biblical truth for cultures other than our own.13 Before we even speak about cultures “other than our own,” we need to stress that North American culture itself is moving further beyond modernism. As it does, contextualization of biblical truth will become increasingly more important for all Christians living here. The Old Testament historical books can fill an important desideratum in this case. Our generation has a profound need to hear more preaching from the narratives of the Old Testament, because postmoderns perceive life as a drama or narrative. The means of truth communication in 1-2 Samuel, in short, are especially needed in our times.14

The Israelite Historians

WHO WROTE 1 AND 2 SAMUEL? Technically, the authors are anonymous.15 The Talmud preserves the rabbinic tradition that these books were written by prophets who lived contemporaneously with the events described.16 As we will see, much of what we have in 1-2 Samuel has been narrated from a decidedly prophetic point of view, and there is nothing within the books themselves to preclude the notion that several prophets contributed to these narratives. But the fact remains, the books of Samuel are anonymous, like many other Old Testament books.

Over the past six decades, biblical scholars have devised a theory to explain the origins and composition of 1-2 Samuel, and it is fair to say we have reached something of a consensus. The books of Samuel appear to have been a portion of a longer work tracing Israel’s history from Moses to the destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians in 586 B.C. This longer history was comprised of Deuteronomy (at least in part), plus Joshua, Judges, 1-2 Samuel, and 1-2 Kings.17 These books present a theological history of Israel, evaluating Israel’s past in light of the covenant relationship established in Deuteronomy and relying on the so-called “retribution theology” established there. Based on the curses and blessings of Deuteronomy 28, the doctrine of retribution assumes the idea of reward for obedience to the covenant and punishment for disobedience. Such a guiding principle evaluated national and individual successes and failures in terms of the consequence of faithfulness or disobedience to Mosaic, or Deuteronomic, law. As a result, this extended history is commonly referred to as the Deuteronomistic History.18

Of the books contained in the Deuteronomistic History, 1-2 Samuel have the least amount of editorial and compositional detail that may be considered distinctively “Deuteronomistic.” Most assume this is because the historian took large portions of previously existing materials (or “sources”) and folded them into his extended treatment. It seems likely that the historian had available three narrative units, which presumably had an independent history before being used to produce the books of Samuel. These were: (1) the ark narrative (1 Sam. 4:1b–7:1, and perhaps also 2 Sam. 6);19 (2) the history of David’s rise (1 Sam. 16:14–2 Sam. 5);20 and (3) the court history (otherwise known as the succession narrative, 2 Sam. 9–20; 1 Kings 1–2).21

These portions provided the skeletal features used by the final author of the books of Samuel. At places they appear to have been supplemented with other materials, serial lists, and appendices to comprise the whole package. The parameters for some of these sources—and indeed the independent existence of some of them—has been called into question by recent literary investigations of the received text of the books of Samuel.22 Regardless of the origins of individual pieces, it would be a mistake to underestimate the degree of intentionality behind the present arrangement of the books of Samuel and one would miss the grander scale in view in the narrative of Saul, David, and Solomon.

For years scholars have argued that these three main narrative units noted above were some of the world’s earliest and finest works of history (this was said especially of the court history). Likewise, it is often asserted that these pieces were composed soon after the events themselves and were therefore relatively accurate historically. In the last few decades, scholars have routinely argued instead that these books are products of the late preexilic age, the exilic, or in some cases, even the postexilic period, and that they contain little if anything of historical value (see below). As a result, the earlier consensus about these sources has collapsed. The arguments for the exilic and postexilic date for these narrative units of Samuel are not convincing, however, and this commentary will assume their earlier provenance.23

Israel’s Early United Monarchy

THE FIELD OF OLD TESTAMENT studies has gone through significant upheaval in recent decades.24 Through much of the twentieth century until the mid–1970s, there were two competing approaches to the history of Israel, which together dominated the field. On the one hand, scholars who emphasized archaeology were generally more optimistic about the degree to which we could reconstruct the events of ancient Israel’s history, including the judges period, the Exodus, and for some, the ancestral age (today we call such scholars “maximalists”). These scholars were often associated with William F. Albright, and those working within this framework are sometimes categorized as the American archaeological school. On the other hand, scholars working with the traditio-historical approach were less optimistic, especially about the ancestral age, the Exodus, and the judges period (“minimalists”). Scholars such as Albrecht Alt and Martin Noth best exemplify this approach, which flourished especially in Germany.

Despite the wide differences between these approaches, they were remarkably united on one thing: the United Monarchy of ancient Israel. With the kingdoms of David and Solomon, it was assumed we could have confidence about the events of this period. However, in the closing decades of the twentieth century, this consensus crumbled.25 Histories of Israel written during the 1980s often evinced caution about anything prior to David. During the 1990s, this caution gave way to radical skepticism, or as one scholar has called it, “nihilism.”26 It is not unusual for scholars today to deny the possibility of knowing anything at all about the history of early Israel, including the United Monarchy of the tenth century B.C., and some have even called into question the existence of David and Solomon. Instead, these kings are often seen as fictitious characters created in the Persian or Hellenistic periods.

The United Monarchy (minus Solomon) is, however, the period we are dealing with in this commentary (ca. 1025–965 B.C.).27 The books of Samuel comprise the primary texts narrating the rise of Israel’s monarchy, the failure of King Saul, and the towering figure of King David. Were we to accept the arguments of many scholars today, we would be forced to conclude that David may not have existed and that in any case we can know practically nothing about him. Are we to accept the results of minimalistic scholarship on Israel’s United Monarchy? Is it possible that these individuals never existed?

The assumption adopted for this commentary is that such skepticism is unwarranted. It is beyond our purposes here to survey the problems involved, but it may be simply stated that the scholarship has been unduly affected by issues other than the evidence available.28 We should remember that these ancient Hebrew texts had a long history of transmission. The form in which we have received the Bible reflects the later periods to be sure, but this does not preclude a growth of tradition coming from earlier times. In addition, the variability and adaptability within the Hebrew language itself suggests a long period of development and a diverse cultural milieu.29 We actually have impressive evidence for the United Monarchy, including material remains discovered by archaeologists, epigraphic (i.e., textual) evidence from extrabiblical sources, and the literary evidence from the Bible itself. Based on this evidence, we can have confidence that Samuel, Saul, and David were historical individuals and that Saul and David did in fact rule a unified state of Israel.30

Contents of 1 and 2 Samuel

“YAHWEH IS KING.” This is an important message in Israelite theology, which is taught explicitly in many texts and is used as a praise theme in several psalms. The ramifications of such a doctrine in the context of the ancient Near East are profound. Since Israel eventually extended the idea to include Yahweh’s sovereignty over the whole world, it came to have an impact on Israel’s relationship to the other nations.31

The idea that Yahweh is king has its origins in the very self-identity of the nation of Israel. At the heart of her understanding of her relationship with God is the concept of covenant. Scholars have often debated whether there exists a theological center (German Mitte) in the Old Testament, that is, whether there is a single unifying theme or motif that holds the various parts together.32 I would argue that there is no actual center, that instead the various materials collected in the Old Testament adhere as they do simply because of their common origins in the people of ancient Israel.33 But one of the themes that has received the most attention over the years, and one that is clearly a central theme of the Old Testament, is that of covenant.

Since the 1950s and the pioneering work of George Mendenhall, most scholars have admitted a close relationship between ancient Near Eastern political treaties and certain crucial passages of the Old Testament.34 In particular, the Hittite suzerainty treaties of the fourteenth and thirteenth centuries B.C. give us a glimpse of the way a superior king of one dominant nation might relate to a vassal, or weaker king, of a neighboring nation. The parallels between these ancient political treaties and certain covenant passages of the Old Testament are undeniable, since they share the same structure and, in some cases, even the same detailed outline. In particular Exodus 20–24, Joshua 24, and especially the book of Deuteronomy seem to be organized deliberately according to the structure of these ancient treaties.35

It is beyond my purposes here to review the importance of these observations.36 But it is necessary for our reading of 1-2 Samuel to remember that the concept of covenant became Israel’s most important and pervasive relational metaphor in the Old Testament. This became the best way to describe Israel’s relationship with God, who is thereby portrayed as the Great King and Israel as the weaker vassal. Therefore, from Israel’s earliest recollections of national origins (the Mosaic covenant) and in its greatest theological explanations of its relationship with Yahweh (Ex. 20–24 and Deuteronomy), God most often assumed the position of King of Israel. The concept of God’s kingship over Israel appears in numerous other passages of the Old Testament, and certain royal psalms celebrate his kingship (Ps. 47; 93; 96; 98; 99; 100).

It should not surprise us, then, that the transition from theocracy to monarchy, which is narrated mostly in 1 Samuel, was an agonizing process in the life of ancient Israel.37 Contemporary scholarship has offered several attempts to explain the transition, the most helpful new approaches applying anthropological or macrosociological theory to the traditional archaeological and textual data.38 So James Flanagan, for example, identifies the rule of Saul and David as “chiefdoms,” a type of society that often precedes in social development a monarchy with centralized power.39 But regardless of the historical and sociological specifics, the books of Samuel are primarily devoted to narrating the beginnings of the new Israelite institution of kingship. Thus 1 Samuel 1–7 may be said to describe the prelude to the monarchy, chapters 8–15 its advent, and chapters 16–31 its establishment. Likewise, 2 Samuel 1–20 narrate the consolidation of the monarchy under David, while chapters 21–24 function as an epilogue to the books generally.40

As 1-2 Samuel narrate the rise and establishment of Israel’s new monarchy, they offer answers to two questions. What is the acceptable nature of the Israelite monarchy? And, who can serve suitably as king in this new institution? The first question is addressed primarily in 1 Samuel 1–15 and the second in 1 Samuel 16–2 Samuel 24, though several features of the second question are addressed much earlier in 1 Samuel 1–15 as well.

In addressing the first question, 1 Samuel 1–15 illustrate the deficiencies of the older model of the tribal confederation centered on priesthood and tabernacle at Shiloh and preserved from invasions by military judges. Both the religious and political superstructure failed. By the time the reader reaches 1 Samuel 12, it becomes obvious to Samuel, the most ardent adversary of the monarchy, that kingship is necessary and, if rightly constituted, even desirable. Much of Samuel’s energy in chapters 8–12 is then devoted to constituting the new institution.41 Ideally there was always to be a close relationship between Israel’s human kingdom and God’s kingdom.

But Yahweh was king in earliest Israel (Ex. 15:18; Num. 23:21; Deut. 33:5), and this was not a concept that could be relinquished in the new monarchy. So from the earliest conceptions of Israelite monarchy, this was the hard question: How was the human king related to the divine king? Ultimately, as 1 Samuel shows, Israel settled the question in a way similar to the way this was handled in Assyria and Babylonia. The real king was the deity, while the human king was just a representative or viceroy. The human king was chosen by the deity to fulfill his wishes in the human kingdom.42 The kingship of Saul was thus limited as a conditional appointment or covenant. As long as he served under the inspiration of the spirit of God and as long as he avoided violation of the ancient tribal legal traditions, he would serve as Yahweh’s vicegerent.43

So to this first question on the nature of Israelite monarchy, 1 Samuel 1–15 is clear that Yahweh must continue to rule Israel, even after a human leader comes to power. There are, of course, many historical and sociological issues involved, and in certain ways, Israel was not unlike her neighbors in regards to her transition to monarchy. But 1 Samuel 1–15 is less concerned with these than with the theological significance of the shift. Christoph Barth has summarized the issue well:

We will see that the second question (Who may serve suitably as king?) begins to be addressed in the institution of prophetic anointing. But the story begins even earlier with the assertion that Yahweh himself has been Israel’s king thus far and that in reality he must always remain king. He governed in the past through certain religious and political institutions (i.e., priesthood and tabernacle, with its ark at Shiloh and the network of judges). Paradoxically, these must all be transformed in the new monarchy, yet they must also remain the same. The priesthood will be resuscitated, the tabernacle relocated and rebuilt as a permanent structure to house the ark, and the judges system reconfigured and absorbed by the monarchy. But as symbols of Yahweh’s kingship, they will remain.

Israel’s new monarchy will be structured as a vice-regency—the Lord will remain Israel’s king but will rule through human designees. As to who can serve suitably as king, the human viceroy is to be anointed with oil by one of Yahweh’s prophets and guided by Yahweh’s spirit. He will also be received by the people by public acclamation. The rest of 1-2 Samuel is devoted to illustrating—first by negative example (Saul) and then by positive example (David)—who may serve suitably as Yahweh’s viceroy.

Biblical historiography seeks to explore the past in order to influence both the present (that of the author) and the future. Like the ancient Egyptian and Mesopotamian practice of monumental inscriptions placed in walls or foundations of public buildings or erected on stone pillars, biblical historiographers consciously intended their history writing to become part of a continued witnessing tradition.45 In the case of 1-2 Samuel, the biblical historian was consciously attempting to recount the past as a means of lending support and legitimacy to the Israelite monarchy as constituted in the Davidic dynasty. Thus, the two central questions cited above are also programmatic for Israel’s future. I could rephrase my questions: What should the monarchy be like, and Who should the king of Israel be like? The answers: Israel’s monarchy should always be as Samuel intended, and the king should always be like David.

As part of ancient Hebrew Scriptures, 1-2 Samuel define the nature and significance of kingship for Israel’s future. As part of our Christian canon, they speak with power to our understanding of the work of Christ in the world generally. Today’s Christian readers now stand in the great stream of the biblical historian’s posterity. The books of Samuel were intended to be programmatic for Israel’s monarchy, and so they argue that Israel’s kingdom should have certain defining characteristics and that Israel’s king must meet a given set of criteria. In light of our understanding of the revelation given through Jesus Christ, today’s Christian readers accept the idea that the ancient Israelite historian wrote better than he understood. The Israelite stream of messianism, by which ancient believers perceived God’s work in their nation Israel and through their king, now takes on a broader application.

The future perspective of the historian is thus transformed from a programmatic treatise on what the nature of Israelite kingship ought to be into a theological treatise on the actual character of the Messiah. So the books of Samuel, which have their own innate authority as inspired texts from God, assume also for the Christian reader special appeal as texts that shape and inform our understanding of the life and mission of Jesus Christ.

Theological Themes of 1 and 2 Samuel

BESIDES THE IMPORTANT concept of divine kingship, 1-2 Samuel develop other concepts linked with it in ancient Israelite thought. Primary among these are Israel’s emerging concept of a “messiah” or “anointed one,” the condemnation of abuses of power, and the books’ prophetic emphasis on confession and repentance.

(1) Israel’s belief in an ideal anointed leadership does not appear on the scene suddenly or fully developed but emerges gradually and subtly in 1-2 Samuel. So, for example, as 1 Samuel begins, the role of the holy place (ark of the covenant and tabernacle) and the priesthood are important themes. But these institutions are not fulfilling their proper roles and are not serving Yahweh or Israel as intended, primarily because of the leadership at the time. Eventually the difficulties find partial resolution in David’s capture of Jebus/Jerusalem in 2 Samuel 5–6. Thus, the three institutions—Israel’s new monarchy, the central worship site, and the priesthood—are then explicitly tied together in David, Jerusalem, and Zadok. In essence, all the themes relevant to Israel’s burgeoning messianism are developed, some to nearly complete form.46 Later in Old Testament thought and in the intertestamental period, messianism grew out of this Davidic ideal through the prophets.

The concept of an ideal anointed one arises gradually and is sustained in the narrative. But at the same time the severe shortcomings of David call the whole venture into question. Earlier, Israel’s need for a king is first justified and then met by the anointing and reign of King Saul. But his rejected rulership only serves to highlight the need for a righteous and just king. When this is met by the ideal king David, God gives promises that a son of David will rule forever (2 Sam. 7). But the disappointing flaws in David create a tension in the narrative: the ideal and hope of David versus his failures. This contrast between the ideal and the actual in the narratives of 1-2 Samuel creates a “deliberately emphasized antinomy,” creating a tension that ultimately drives the reader past the pages of 1-2 Samuel themselves for the answers.47

Subsequent Old Testament prophetic texts carry the tension further, sustaining the ideal figure of David’s son with the realization that few, if any, of his descendants live up to that ideal.48 In 1-2 Samuel these ideas are presented only in germinal form. Satterthwaite has grasped the role and position of the books of Samuel in the rise of biblical messianism:

(2) In addressing the two central questions outlined above, the extended narrative of 1-2 Samuel contains another important theme lying just beneath the surface, that is, the use and abuse of power. Who has power or authority in Israel, and how will it be exercised? In many respects, Israel’s king would be like other kings of the world. But the distinctive feature of Israelite kingship was not only that the king was the chosen and anointed one but that the king must accept Yahweh’s authority and lead the people in submission to Yahweh’s sovereignty. At stake, of course, is the manner in which the human king would use or abuse his God-given power. Will the Israelite king, like other kings both ancient and modern, manipulate and conspire in the process of ruling? Or will he submit to Yahweh’s rulership and acknowledge certain divinely established limits to his power?

The first anointed one failed in this regard (Saul). Though the second one also abused power, he quickly and earnestly repented, and he genuinely accepted divinely ordained limits to his power (David). Thus, 1-2 Samuel contain a powerful message, which is the logical corollary to the definition of Israel’s monarchy as a circumscribed and limited office. The abuse of the power that comes to us by virtue of office or position is an indication that we are not worthy of that office or position. To wield institutional power rightly, one must be willing to submit to God’s righteous and sovereign direction. Just as in Israel, the Lord’s anointed one must be willing to serve as a vice-regent; he must acknowledge that he, too, serves at the wishes of an even greater authority, God himself.

(3) These two themes (messianism and the right use of power) are concerns of other Old Testament authors as well. But a third theme transcends these and binds them together in the books of Samuel, namely, the definition and nature of repentance. A wholistic reading of the final form of 1-2 Samuel reveals a pattern in which the three protagonists of our story (Samuel, Saul, and David) serve to highlight and emphasize the definition and nature of confession and repentance. These three present us with three “portraits of repentance.” The macrostructure in 1-2 Samuel supports the idea that the trajectories of the three main figures work together to define and illustrate the author’s fundamental message.

The concept of turning to Yahweh (šwb) is, of course, central to many of the canonical prophets, particularly Hosea, Joel, and Jeremiah.50 Thus, as I have said, important theological concepts taught explicitly elsewhere in Scripture are often illustrated in the historical books. The books of Samuel therefore contribute graphic illustration to the Bible’s teaching on the precise nature of confession and repentance through the three portraits of Samuel, Saul, and David.

(a) At a critical juncture in Israel’s history, the prophet Samuel seized a moment of tragedy in order to call the nation to repentance. The opening six chapters of 1 Samuel condemn a wicked Elide priesthood at Shiloh and a nation plagued with sin and failure. At this critical moment in Israel’s history, Samuel used terminology characteristic of later prophetic preaching to call for a “return” (šwb) to Yahweh (see comments on 1 Sam. 7:2–4 for linguistic details). Such genuine repentance is required to restore a right relationship with Yahweh, and it involves at once both a turning away from the sins that have caused the separation and a returning unto God. This return must be “wholehearted,” implying there can be no divided loyalties or opinions when one returns to Yahweh. In the case of Samuel’s appeal in 1 Samuel 7, repentance involved a repudiation of Israel’s allegiance to Canaanite gods of fertility and a renewed commitment to serve Yahweh exclusively. Samuel’s message synopsizes the Old Testament prophetic concern for repentance and stands like a watchtower over the rest of the books of Samuel.

This first portrait includes not only the sermon Samuel preached (1 Sam. 7:3) but also its effects. With his help, the Israelites came to understand the nature of wholehearted turning to God as both a repudiation of past sins and exclusive devotion to Yahweh. Samuel gathered them at Mizpah for prayer and fasting, and Israel’s corporate confession was succinct and genuine (7:6): “We have sinned against the LORD.” This brings us to the first of three illustrations of confession, all using the verb “sinned” (ḥṭʾ ). Samuel’s instruction was effective; the Israelites confessed and repented. The Lord responded at once with victory and peace, where before there had been only failure and defeat.51 This first portrait of repentance is paradigmatic for the rest of 1-2 Samuel by defining and illustrating the nature of true confession and repentance.

(b) The second portrait of confession, Saul, teaches by way of contrast. As the first example (Samuel at Mizpah) was genuine and effective, the second was insincere and futile. The portrait of Saul in 1 Samuel 15 is not the way to repent! His words and actions were self-serving and self-vindicating. His confession is coerced by the prophet bit by bit, and even then it is disingenuous. He acknowledges wrongdoing instead of repudiating it; Saul regrets his actions because they leave him vulnerable, not because they were self-destructive and offensive to God.

Saul’s words of confession are the same as Israel’s at Mizpah: “I have sinned” (1 Sam. 15:24; repeated in 15:30), but the words alone are not enough. He fails to exemplify the same wholehearted repentance Israel illustrates. Instead, his words are followed by more words of defensive argumentation, deflection, and rationalization. His “I have sinned” is followed by an unfortunate “because.” He sinned, because he “was afraid of the people” (almost implying “it was all their fault”).52 Our reading of Saul will reveal that he was more concerned with placating Samuel and the people of Israel than he was with seeking forgiveness and restoration from Yahweh.

If Samuel’s message of repentance is a watchtower over the rest of 1-2 Samuel and Israel’s confession at Mizpah is a positive example of its effects, then conversely, Saul stands as a benchmark of failure. His confession illustrates precisely the results of resisting Samuel’s instruction and the self-destructive consequences of an unrepentant heart. He said the right words, but his heart and his actions belied his recalcitrant spirit.

(c) The third portrait of repentance is David. The prophet who brought the message is different, but the message itself is the same. Nathan has replaced the revered Samuel, but his firm “You are the man!” confronts David with the same powerful lessons (2 Sam. 12:7). Like the Israelites at Mizpah, David has learned well the prophetic lesson of confession and repentance. The terminology we have now come to expect is sincere and genuine to the core. David’s “I have sinned” (12:13) is not followed by recrimination or self-vindication. His words stand alone, exposed, naked, and vulnerable. David is a broken man. The king who boldly took what was not rightfully his acknowledges his guilt. He serves as an illustration for the sermon Samuel preached so many years before.