I Samuel 10

Hook

A single drop of oil, a quiet kiss of consecration, and a man hiding among the baggage—this is the paradox of leadership in our tradition: the crown that seeks the person, rather than the person who seeks the crown.

Context

• The Setting: The narrative unfolds in the rugged terrain of Benjamin, transitioning from the quiet outskirts of the tomb of Rachel to the public, thunderous assembly at Mizpah.
• The Era: We are positioned at the dawn of the Israelite monarchy, a period of profound transition from the informal, charismatic leadership of the Judges to the formalized, state-centered structure of Kingship.
• The Community: The Sephardi and Mizrahi engagement with this text—as seen through the eyes of commentators like the Ralbag (Provence) and Radak (Narbonne)—emphasizes the delicate, almost fragile nature of Saul’s anointing, distinguishing it sharply from the eternal, hereditary kingship of the House of David.

Text Snapshot

Samuel took a flask of oil and poured some on Saul’s head and kissed him, and said, “God herewith anoints you ruler over God’s own people... The spirit of God will grip you, and you will speak in ecstasy along with them; you will become a different person.” [...] They inquired of God again, “Has anyone else come here?” And God replied, “Yes; he is hiding among the baggage.” I Samuel 10:1-22

Minhag/Melody

In the Sephardi world, the act of Anointing—the Meshichah—is not merely a political inauguration; it is a metaphysical transformation. The Malbim, a towering figure in the study of the biblical text, offers a profound insight into this moment: he explains that Samuel’s action was twofold. The oil represented the infusion of Ruach Gevurah (a spirit of strength), while the kiss, according to the Malbim, served as a hitdabkut rucha berucha—a literal bonding of spirit to spirit. This is the "Sephardi way" of reading: looking for the interiority behind the act.

The Radak adds a layer of historical precision that resonates deeply in our liturgical tradition. He notes a distinction in the type of oil used: Saul and Jehu were anointed with a pach (flask), whereas the House of David was anointed with a keren (horn). This distinction is vital; it suggests that Saul’s kingship was ephemeral, a "temporary" grace, while the Davidic line carried an eternal weight.

Furthermore, the Radak cites the Midrash regarding the three types of "kisses" in Torah: the kiss of greatness (Samuel and Saul), the kiss of reunion (Moses and Aaron), and the kiss of separation (Orpah and Naomi). This sensitivity to the emotional texture of the text is a hallmark of our piyut tradition. When we chant the haftarah, we are not just reading history; we are performing an emotional archeology. The ta’amei hamikra (cantillation marks) for this passage in many Sephardi traditions emphasize the suddenness of the spirit "gripping" Saul, using a melody that shifts from the steady, rhythmic narrative of the quest for donkeys into an erratic, soaring motif as he encounters the prophets. It is a musical mirror of his transformation from a simple man into a vessel for the Divine.

Contrast

A respectful difference exists between Sephardi/Mizrahi traditions and some Ashkenazi interpretations regarding the "spirit of God" coming upon Saul. In many Ashkenazi commentaries, the focus is often on the internal conflict and the moral failure that eventually leads to Saul’s downfall. However, the Sephardi tradition, particularly through the lens of the Ralbag I Samuel 10:1, often approaches this as a "gifted" state—a moment of genuine, albeit temporary, elevation. We tend to view Saul less as a "doomed" figure from the outset and more as a man overwhelmed by a sudden, intense divine proximity. We see the "hiding among the baggage" not as cowardice, but as a profound, human humility—a characteristic that many Mizrahi commentators highlight as the very reason Saul was chosen in the first place: he did not desire the power he was given.

Home Practice

To bring this tradition into your home, try the practice of "Naming the Gift." In the story, Saul is met by people who give him bread and wine—the essential supports for his new journey. Once a week, identify one "baggage" in your life—a worry or a burden—and consciously reframe it as a place where you might find a "prophetic" moment or a new perspective. Just as Saul found a new heart when he stopped looking for donkeys and started looking for the Divine, take five minutes to sit in silence and ask: What is the spirit trying to tell me in this moment of transition?

Takeaway

The story of Saul reminds us that leadership and transformation are not found in the spotlight, but in the quiet, unexpected places—among the baggage, in the fields, and in the sudden, gripping encounters with the spirit. To be a "different person" is not to abandon oneself, but to finally be found by the purpose that has been waiting for us all along.