929 (Tanakh)

I Samuel 10

StandardAugust 3, 2026

Hook

The journey of choosing a Jewish life—a process known as gerut (conversion)—often begins not with a thunderclap, but with a quiet, persistent search. You might have started by looking for something specific: a sense of community, a coherent ethical framework, a historical anchor, or a deeper way to structure your days. Like Saul in I Samuel 10, who set out simply to find his father’s stray donkeys, you may have embarked on a seemingly straightforward quest, only to find yourself standing on the threshold of a vast, unexpected destiny.

This text matters profoundly for anyone discerning a Jewish life because it exposes the raw, psychological, and spiritual realities of transformation. Choosing to enter the covenant of Israel is not merely a change of religious affiliation or the acquisition of a new set of intellectual beliefs. It is a fundamental alteration of your spiritual posture. It is a process of receiving "another heart" I Samuel 10:9 while simultaneously grappling with the very human urge to hide among the baggage of your past I Samuel 10:22.

As you contemplate this path, you will likely encounter moments of profound inspiration alongside moments of intense self-doubt. You may ask yourself, Who am I to stand among this ancient people? How can I bridge the gap between who I was and who I am becoming?

In this study, we will walk through the coronation and transformation of Saul, guided by the insights of classical Jewish commentators. We will explore how his journey mirrors the pathway of the ger (convert), offering you a realistic, encouraging, and covenant-centered map for your own spiritual unfolding.


Context

To fully appreciate the drama of I Samuel 10, we must ground ourselves in its historical, theological, and ritual context. The transition of Saul from an ordinary young man of the tribe of Benjamin to the first king of Israel is a blueprint for how holiness intersecting with human life demands both internal transformation and public, communal accountability.

  • The Shift from Tribal Anarchy to Covenantal Monarchy: Prior to this chapter, Israel was ruled by a loose confederation of judges (shofetim). The people, feeling vulnerable to external threats like the Philistines, demanded a king "like all the other nations" I Samuel 8:5. God grants their request, but with a vital caveat: the Jewish king must not be an absolute despot. He must remain subordinate to the Torah and the divine word delivered through the prophets. This tension between personal desire and covenantal duty is the very air the prospective convert breathes. You are not just choosing a personal faith; you are entering a collective, law-governed polity that operates under a unique covenant with the Divine.
  • The Ritual Architecture of Transformation: Saul’s elevation is structured around highly specific, physical rituals: the pouring of oil, a sacred kiss, a sequence of geographical landmarks, and a public selection process. In Jewish tradition, major transitions are never purely abstract. For the spiritual seeker today, this structural reality is mirrored in the classical path of gerut. The internal decision to become Jewish must eventually be externalized and validated through the physical rituals of the beit din (a rabbinical court of three judges who assess sincerity and knowledge) and immersion in the living waters of the mikveh (ritual bath). Just as Saul's coronation required both the private anointing by Samuel and the public acclamation at Mizpah, the convert's journey requires both private, internal devotion and public, communal affirmation.
  • The Commentary Context (The Flask vs. The Horn): Our classical commentators notice a crucial detail in the opening verse of our text: Samuel uses a pach (a breakable clay flask) of oil to anoint Saul, rather than a keren (a sturdy horn of an animal). The Radak Radak on I Samuel 10:1:1 notes that a flask represents a temporary, conditional state, whereas the horn used for King David represents endurance and permanence. This distinction is vital for someone exploring conversion. The early stages of your exploration are like the pach—fragile, exploratory, and conditional. You are testing the vessels of Jewish practice, seeing if they can hold the light of your soul. The goal of the conversion process is to slowly, deliberately forge that fragile exploration into the permanent, enduring "horn" of covenantal commitment.

Text Snapshot

The following passage from I Samuel 10 captures the pivotal moments of Saul’s transformation, his struggle with his new identity, and his public presentation to the people of Israel.

Samuel took a flask of oil and poured some on Saul’s head and kissed him, and said, “G-d herewith anoints you ruler over this people—G-d’s own... The spirit of G-d will grip you, and you will speak in ecstasy along with them; you will become a different person... As Saul turned around to leave Samuel, G-d gave him another heart; and all those signs were fulfilled that same day... But when they looked for him, he was not to be found. They inquired of G-d again, ‘Has the man in question come here?’ And G-d replied, ‘Yes; he is hiding among the baggage.’ So they ran over and brought him from there... And all the people acclaimed him, shouting, ‘Long live the king!’” — I Samuel 10:1, I Samuel 10:6, I Samuel 10:9, I Samuel 10:21-22, I Samuel 10:24


Close Reading

To study Torah is to engage in a multi-generational conversation. We do not read the text in isolation; we read it alongside sages who spent their lives dissecting every word, syllable, and grammatical anomaly to extract spiritual nutrients. Let us look closely at two profound themes within this text that speak directly to the soul of the converting seeker.


Insight 1: The Alchemy of Transformation: "God Gave Him Another Heart"

The text describes a radical shift in Saul’s internal state: "As [Saul] turned around to leave Samuel, God gave him another heart; and all those signs were fulfilled that same day" I Samuel 10:9.

To understand this, we must look at the mechanics of how this transformation was initiated. In I Samuel 10:1, Samuel performs three distinct physical acts: he takes a flask (pach), pours (vayitzok) the oil, and kisses (vayishakehu) Saul.

The Metzudat Zion clarify these terms with grammatical precision. A pach is defined as shem kli meh—a specific type of vessel Metzudat Zion on I Samuel 10:1:1, while vayitzok simply means veshafach—and he poured Metzudat Zion on I Samuel 10:1:2, and vayishakehu means neshak lo—he kissed him Metzudat Zion on I Samuel 10:1:3.

But why are these physical details so meticulously recorded? The Malbim Malbim on I Samuel 10:1:1 offers a breathtaking mystical and psychological analysis of these three actions:

"By means of the anointing (meshichah), he drew down upon him a spirit of courage and kingly strength... and by means of the kiss (neshikah), which is the cleaving of spirit to spirit (itdabkut rucha berucha), he drew down upon him a holy abundance, which prepared him to prophesy afterward..."

The Malbim teaches us that transformation is a two-stage process. First, there is the external anointing—the pouring of the oil—which grants the functional strength (gevurah) required to perform a role. But functional strength is not enough. To truly become a "different person," there must be a kiss—an itdabkut rucha berucha, a cleaving of spirit to spirit. This represents the deep, relational intimacy between the individual, the teacher, the community, and the Divine.

For you, as someone exploring gerut, this distinction is essential. You can study the laws of kashrut (dietary laws), memorize the Hebrew alphabet, and master the choreography of the Amidah (the standing prayer). These are the "oil" poured upon your head—necessary, structuring, and empowering. But the true transformation of the heart—the acquisition of "another heart" (lev acher)—happens through the "kiss." It happens when the spirit of the Torah cleaves to your own spirit, when you feel a deep, soul-level resonance with the Jewish people, their history, their suffering, and their joy.

The Ralbag Ralbag on I Samuel 10:1:1 deepens our understanding of this transformation:

"And the strongest sign among them was the turning of his heart into another heart, and his prophesying with the prophets, for he had never experienced this before, nor did he have any standing or reputation in prophecy."

The Ralbag highlights the sheer improbability of Saul's transformation. Saul had no background in spiritual leadership. He was a farm boy looking for lost livestock. Yet, he was transformed.

This is a message of immense encouragement for the prospective convert. You may look at your background, your family of origin, your lack of childhood Hebrew education, or your unfamiliarity with Jewish culture, and feel like an outsider. You might think, I have no standing or reputation in this world.

But Jewish conversion is built on the premise that a human being can acquire "another heart." When a person immerses in the mikveh, Jewish law considers them to be like a newborn child Talmud Yevamot 22a. The past is not erased; rather, it is integrated into a completely new spiritual reality. Your heart is expanded to hold the collective memory of Mount Sinai. Like Saul, your lack of prior experience is not a barrier to the divine spirit gripping you and welcoming you into the fold.

However, we must also heed the warning of the Radak Radak on I Samuel 10:1:1 regarding the vessel used for Saul:

"This was not the oil of anointing [used for the Tabernacle], for only the kings of the House of David were anointed with that, but rather it was balsam oil... those anointed with a flask (pach) did not have their kingdom endure, while David and Solomon who were anointed with a horn (keren) had their kingdom endure."

The Radak reminds us that the flask (pach) is glass or clay—fragile and easily shattered. Saul’s transformation, though real, was fragile because his commitment was not yet fully anchored in consistent, humble obedience.

In your conversion journey, you will experience moments of high inspiration—perhaps during a beautiful Friday night service or a profound moment of study. This is the balsam oil from the pach. It is sweet, aromatic, and inspiring. But inspiration alone does not make a Jewish life. A Jewish life is built on the slow, steady cultivation of mitzvot (commandments)—daily, physical acts of justice, prayer, and kindness.

To ensure your journey endures, you must work to transition from the fragile "flask" of initial excitement to the durable "horn" of daily, disciplined Jewish practice.


Insight 2: The Reflex to Hide: "He Is Hiding Among the Baggage"

Despite the oil, the kiss, the prophetic ecstasy, and the internal gift of "another heart," when the moment arrives for Saul to be presented to the nation, he is nowhere to be found. The people search for him, only for God to reveal: "Yes; he is hiding among the baggage" (nechba el hakelim) I Samuel 10:22.

This is one of the most painfully human moments in the entire Hebrew Bible. Why does Saul hide? He has been chosen by God, validated by the prophet, and transformed internally. Yet, when faced with the reality of stepping forward into his destiny, he retreats behind the luggage.

This phenomenon is incredibly common among those navigating the path of conversion. It is the manifestation of imposter syndrome. You may find yourself thinking:

  • What if they realize I don’t belong here?
  • What if my Hebrew pronunciation is mocked?
  • What if I fail to live up to the high ethical and ritual standards of the Torah?
  • What if my family of origin feels abandoned by my choice?

Under the weight of these questions, the natural human instinct is to hide "among the baggage"—to retreat into the comfortable, quiet corners of the synagogue, to delay speaking with a rabbi, or to keep your Jewish exploration a secret from those around you. Your "baggage" (kelim—which can also mean vessels or tools) represents your past life, your old habits, your fears, and your unresolved questions. It is comfortable to stay hidden there because, as long as you are hidden, you cannot fail.

But the text shows us that the community cannot move forward until Saul is brought out of hiding. "So they ran over and brought him from there; and when he took his place among the people, he stood a head taller than all the people" I Samuel 10:23.

The Malbim Malbim on I Samuel 10:1:1 explains why the process had to be structured this way:

"And why did he not anoint him in public? ... So that he could cast lots afterward. For if he had been anointed in public, the lottery would have been superfluous in the eyes of the people, and they would have suspected him of manipulating the lottery through trickery to land on the man who was already anointed."

The Malbim reveals a profound truth about Jewish communal life: credibility requires transparent processes. Saul could not just claim the kingship based on a private, subjective experience with Samuel. There had to be a public, objective process—the lottery (goral)—to demonstrate to the community that his selection was genuine, fair, and divinely ordained.

This directly correlates to the function of the beit din in the conversion process. Some seekers wonder why conversion cannot be a purely private affair between themselves and God. Why do I need a court of three rabbis? Why do I need to be questioned about my lifestyle, my beliefs, and my commitments?

The answer is found in the Malbim's insight. The beit din is not there to trip you up or to keep you out. They are there to provide the public, objective validation that your transformation is real. They protect the integrity of the Jewish family and the covenantal community.

When you stand before a beit din, they are, in essence, running to the baggage to bring you out into the open. They are saying: We see your "other heart." We validate your sincerity. You no longer need to hide. You are a full, equal member of the Jewish people, with all the rights, responsibilities, and dignity that entail.

When Saul finally steps out of the baggage, the people do not mock him. Instead, they look at him and say, "Long live the king!" I Samuel 10:24. They see his height—both physical and spiritual.

When you finally step out of your spiritual hiding place, when you declare your desire to join the Jewish people with sincerity and humility, you will find that the vast majority of the Jewish community will receive you not with suspicion, but with open arms, recognizing the unique, tall soul that has come home.


Saul's Journey in I Samuel 10 The Journey of Gerut (Conversion) Spiritual & Psychological Meaning
The Lost Donkeys I Samuel 10:2 The initial search, curiosity, or sense of missing something A mundane or small search that leads to a vast, sacred calling.
The Flask (Pach) of Oil I Samuel 10:1 The early, fragile stages of learning and exploration Fragile inspiration that must be nurtured into permanent commitment.
The Kiss (Neshikah) I Samuel 10:1 Itdabkut rucha berucha—cleaving of spirit to spirit The transition from intellectual study to emotional and soul-level connection.
"Another Heart" (Lev Acher) I Samuel 10:9 The spiritual rebirth experienced through study, community, and mikveh A fundamental shift in identity and covenantal responsibility.
Hiding in the Baggage I Samuel 10:22 Imposter syndrome, fear of vulnerability, or clinging to the past The natural human instinct to retreat when faced with a great calling.
The Public Lottery (Goral) I Samuel 10:20-21 The formal process of the Beit Din and communal recognition The necessary, objective validation that integrates the seeker into the Jewish collective.

Lived Rhythm

A Jewish life is not lived in the clouds of theological abstraction; it is lived in the concrete, repeating rhythms of the physical world. Saul’s transformation was not left as a vague feeling; Samuel gave him highly specific, physical markers to guide his steps: "When you leave me today, you will meet two men... you shall pass on from there until you come to the terebinth of Tabor... you are to go on to the Hill of God..." I Samuel 10:2-5.

This step-by-step geography of Saul's journey is a model for how you should approach your own spiritual growth. You cannot skip steps. You cannot go straight from "looking for donkeys" to "ruling the kingdom." You must walk the path, landmark by landmark.

Here is a concrete, practical guide to establishing your own Jewish rhythm over the next month, designed to move you out of the "baggage" and into active, embodied practice.

Step 1: Establish a "Gate of Entry" (The Mezuzah or a Designated Study Space)

Just as Saul had to go to specific geographic locations (Zelzah, Tabor, Gibeah), you need to designate a physical space in your home dedicated to your Jewish journey.

  • The Action: If you have not yet spoken to a rabbi about placing a mezuzah on your doorpost (which is usually done under rabbinic guidance as your conversion progresses), designate a specific table, desk, or shelf in your home as your Makom Kadosh (holy place).
  • The Practice: On this shelf, place your books of Jewish study, a Tanakh (Hebrew Bible), and two candlesticks for Shabbat. Let this physical space be a daily reminder that you are actively building a Jewish home. When you sit at this space, you are stepping out of the "baggage" of distractions and entering a space of intentional covenantal focus.

Step 2: The Rhythm of the Table (The Blessing of Bread)

In I Samuel 10:3-4, Saul meets three men carrying, among other things, three loaves of bread. They offer him two loaves, "which you shall accept." Bread in Jewish tradition is the ultimate symbol of physical sustenance elevated to holy heights.

  • The Action: Incorporate the Jewish practice of mindfulness around eating. Before eating bread, wash your hands in the traditional ritual manner (Netilat Yadayim) using a two-handled cup, pouring water twice on your right hand and twice on your left.

  • The Practice: Recite the blessing over bread (Hamotzi):

    $$\text{בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה', אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, הַמּוֹצִיא לֶחֶם מִן הָאָרֶץ.}$$

    “Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, hamotzi lechem min ha-aretz.”

    (Blessed are You, L-rd our God, King of the universe, who brings forth bread from the earth.)

  • The Meaning: By pausing before you eat, you are acknowledging that the physical world is filled with divine sparks. You are training your "new heart" to see God’s hand in the most basic elements of daily survival.

Step 3: Sanctifying Time (Shabbat)

The most transformative rhythm in Jewish life is Shabbat—the weekly sanctuary in time.

  • The Action: Commit to a consistent, manageable Shabbat practice. If you are not yet fully converting or under the direct guidance of a rabbi, Jewish law actually encourages you to learn the laws of Shabbat gradually.
  • The Practice: Start by turning off your phone, television, and computer for a set period on Friday evening—perhaps from candle lighting (18 minutes before sunset) until after dinner. Light two candles, recite the blessings (or read them in English), and enjoy a meal without the intrusion of the outside world.
  • The Meaning: Shabbat is the ultimate antidote to the anxiety of "hiding." It is a weekly space where you do not have to achieve, build, or prove anything. You simply are—a soul resting in the presence of the Creator.

Community

One of the most telling moments in Saul's story occurs when he encounters a "band of prophets coming down from the shrine, preceded by lyres, hand-drums, flutes, and harps, and they will be speaking in ecstasy" I Samuel 10:5. Saul does not prophesy in isolation. He is swept up by the collective energy of a group.

This is a fundamental truth of Judaism: there is no such thing as a solitary Jew.

Our holiest prayers (the Kaddish, the Kedushah, the reading of the Torah) require a minyan—a quorum of ten Jewish adults. Our holidays are communal feasts; our mourning is comforted by a community of peers. You cannot complete your journey to gerut on an island or solely through books and internet forums. You must find your "band of prophets."

Here is how you can practically seek out and integrate into a Jewish community:

1. Find Your Local "Shrine" (The Synagogue)

Just as the prophets came down from the shrine (bamah), you need to find a physical community where Torah is lived and prayed.

  • How to Connect: Research the synagogues in your area. Do not feel pressured to commit to the first one you visit. Jewish life is beautifully diverse, ranging from Reform and Conservative to Reconstructionist, Renewal, and Orthodox.
  • The Action: Reach out to the synagogue administrator or the rabbi’s assistant via email. Introduce yourself honestly: “My name is [Name]. I am currently exploring Judaism and would love to attend a Friday night service. Is there a protocol for visitors, or could you connect me with someone who can sit with me and help me navigate the service?”
  • Why this matters: This simple act of outreach is a physical step out of the "baggage." It signals to yourself and to the community that you are ready to be seen.

2. Seek a "Samuel" (A Rabbi or Mentor)

Saul did not know how to interpret his experiences until Samuel guided him. You need a guide—a rabbi who can help you discern your path, answer your difficult questions, and eventually guide you through the formal process of gerut if and when the time is right.

  • How to Connect: When you find a community that feels like a potential home, schedule a meeting with the rabbi. Be prepared for honesty. In Jewish tradition, rabbis historically turned away prospective converts three times—not out of cruelty, but to test their sincerity and to ensure they understood the immense commitment of entering the covenant.
  • The Action: In your first meeting, do not ask for immediate conversion. Instead, say: “I am drawn to Jewish life, and I want to learn. I want to understand the responsibilities of the covenant. Will you guide my learning, or can you recommend a class or mentor to help me take the next step?”

3. Join a Study Circle (Chavruta)

The people in I Samuel 10:11 asked, "Is Saul too among the prophets?" They recognized that Saul's peer group had changed.

  • How to Connect: Look for an "Introduction to Judaism" class, a weekly Torah study group, or a Hebrew literacy class.
  • The Action: Ask another student if they would be willing to study a text together for 20 minutes before or after class. This is called chavruta (partnership study)—the classical Jewish way of learning.
  • Why this matters: In a chavruta, you are not just acquiring information; you are practicing the art of Jewish dialogue. You are learning to argue, to question, to listen, and to respect different perspectives. You are building the relational tissue that connects you to the Jewish collective.

Takeaway

The story of Saul in I Samuel 10 is a mirror for your own soul as you navigate the beautiful, challenging, and holy path of exploring conversion.

It reminds us that the search for what seems lost—our "donkeys," our sense of purpose, our spiritual home—is often the catalyst that God uses to draw us toward a much larger destiny. It assures us that while the journey demands a radical transformation—the acquisition of "another heart"—this transformation is not something you must manufacture on your own. It is a gift that unfolds as you commit yourself to the physical, relational, and covenantal practices of Jewish life.

Do not be discouraged by the moments when you find yourself "hiding among the baggage." The fear of vulnerability, the weight of the past, and the shadow of imposter syndrome are natural landmarks on this sacred geography. Every great soul in Jewish history—from Abraham to Moses to Ruth to Saul—struggled with the weight of their calling.

Be patient with yourself. Transition slowly from the fragile "flask" of initial inspiration to the durable "horn" of daily practice. Seek out your community, find your guides, and trust the process.

The path of the ger is one of the most respected and beloved paths in all of Jewish tradition. You are not an intruder; you are a seeker whose soul may well have stood alongside ours at the foot of Mount Sinai Talmud Shevuot 39a. When you are ready, step out from behind the baggage. Your community is waiting to welcome you, and to say, with joy and deep respect: Welcome home.