I Samuel 28

Hook

The journey toward Jewish conversion—gerut—is rarely a straight line. It is a path paved with profound questions, moments of intense spiritual longing, and, occasionally, a quiet, unsettling sense of vulnerability. When you stand on the threshold of the Jewish people, looking in, you are not just studying a religion; you are discerning whether your soul belongs to an ancient, ongoing covenant. It is a process of deep identity shift, one that asks you to re-examine who you are, where your loyalties lie, and how you navigate the moments when the heavens seem silent.

This is precisely why the narrative of I Samuel 28 is so vital for someone in your position. At first glance, this chapter—famous for King Saul’s desperate, nighttime consultation with the Medium of En-dor—might seem like a strange, even dark place to look for guidance on conversion. It is a story of political desperation, spiritual silence, and forbidden rituals. Yet, beneath the surface of this dramatic text lies a profound exploration of boundaries, identity, and the search for authentic connection with the Divine.

For a prospective convert, this text serves as a powerful mirror. It forces us to confront the temptation of seeking quick, magical shortcuts when the path of spiritual growth feels slow or silent. It highlights the complex, often painful reality of living in a "liminal" state—caught, like David, between different worlds and allegiances. Most importantly, it illuminates the beauty of the Jewish covenantal lifestyle, which rejects the chaotic, desperate seeking of the night in favor of a structured, daylight relationship with God built on daily practice and ethical responsibility. By studying Saul’s tragic missteps and David’s high-stakes navigation of identity, you will gain a deeper, more candid understanding of the commitments, boundaries, and ultimate beauty of committing your life to the Jewish people.

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Context

To fully appreciate the spiritual weight of this chapter, we must understand the historical, narrative, and halakhic (legal) context in which these events unfold.

• The Narrative Crisis and the Silence of God: At this point in the biblical narrative, Israel is facing an existential threat. The Philistines have gathered a massive army to wage a decisive war against Israel. Samuel, the great prophet and judge who had guided the nation and anointed its kings, has died, leaving a massive spiritual vacuum I Samuel 28:3. King Saul, stripped of his divine mandate due to his past disobedience, finds himself utterly isolated. When he inquires of God, he receives nothing—no answers through dreams, prophets, or the Urim (the high priest's sacred oracle) I Samuel 28:6. The silence is deafening, driving Saul to a state of panic that ultimately leads him to violate his own decrees.
• The Halakhic Boundary of the Covenant: The Torah strictly prohibits recourse to ghosts, familiar spirits, and sorcery, viewing these practices as an abandonment of trust in God's living presence Leviticus 19:31, Deuteronomy 18:10-12. Saul himself had previously cleared the land of these practitioners, enforcing the boundaries of the covenant I Samuel 28:3. His decision to seek out a medium in En-dor is not just a tactical error; it is a profound spiritual betrayal. It represents a collapse of the covenantal framework, an attempt to bypass the slow, difficult work of repentance and relationship in favor of an immediate, forced answer from the dead.
• The Relevance to the Conversion Process (Gerut): The journey of conversion is a formal transition from the outside to the inside of this very covenant. It is a process that cannot be rushed, bypassed, or achieved through shortcuts. Just as Saul’s desperate midnight ritual stands in opposition to the orderly, daylight service of the Temple, the path of gerut requires stepping out of the shadows of subjective spiritual searching and into the structured, accountable light of the Jewish community. This transition is ultimately witnessed and validated by a beit din (a rabbinical court of three judges) and sealed through the waters of the mikveh (ritual bath). The beit din does not look for ecstatic, magical transformations; they look for a steady, sincere commitment to living within the boundaries of Jewish law and community—the very boundaries that Saul abandoned in his moment of fear.

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Text Snapshot

"Then Saul said to his courtiers, 'Find me a woman who consults ghosts, so that I can go to her and inquire through her.' And his courtiers told him that there was a woman in En-dor who consulted ghosts. Saul disguised himself; he put on different clothes and set out with two men. They came to the woman by night, and he said, 'Please divine for me by a ghost. Bring up for me the one I shall name to you.' But the woman answered him, 'You know what Saul has done, how he has banned [the use of] ghosts and familiar spirits in the land. So why are you laying a trap for me, to get me killed?' Saul swore to her by God: 'As God lives, you won’t get into trouble over this.'" — I Samuel 28:7-10

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Close Reading

To unlock the deep wisdom this text holds for someone exploring conversion, we must slow down and look closely at the language, the psychological states of the characters, and the insights of our classical commentators. We will explore two primary insights: first, the challenge of dual loyalty and liminal identity as seen through David’s experience; and second, the tragedy of seeking spiritual shortcuts versus the quiet beauty of covenantal fidelity.

Insight 1: The Liminal Space of Identity and the "Bodyguard" of the Soul

At the very beginning of this chapter, we find David in an incredibly precarious position. He is fleeing from Saul, living in exile among the Philistines in the city of Ziklag. When the Philistine king, Achish, decides to wage war against Israel, he turns to David and says, "You know, of course, that you and your men must march out with my forces" I Samuel 28:1.

For anyone undergoing conversion, this is a highly relatable, if intense, metaphor. You are in a liminal space. You are no longer entirely who you used to be, yet you are not yet fully integrated into the Jewish community. You may feel the pull of your past, the expectations of your family of origin, and the demands of your current environment, all while trying to protect and nurture the Jewish soul that is awakening within you.

Let us look at how the commentators unpack this tension. Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, in his commentary on I Samuel 28:1, notes the gravity of David's situation:

"This was not another local raid, but an actual war, which might prove decisive. Akhish said to David: Know that you will go out with me in the camp, you and your men to fight against your people, as you are now attached to me and subject to my rule." Steinsaltz on I Samuel 28:1

David is being forced to choose. He is "subject to the rule" of a foreign king, yet his heart belongs to Israel. How does he respond? He gives a beautifully ambiguous answer: "You surely know what your servant will do" I Samuel 28:2.

The great commentator Rabbi Moses Alshich, in his work Marot HaTzoveot, analyzes this verbal tightrope walk. He asks why David uses the redundant phrase "knowing you shall know" (yadoa teda) and why Achish responds by making David his personal bodyguard:

"Achish, as one who trusted in David that he would not betray him, said to him: 'You shall surely know'... meaning, 'that which will not fail to be known to you in the end, when the camp sets out, you may know from this moment: that you shall go out with me in the camp.' ... Then David answered and said, 'Therefore you shall know...' meaning, 'Your advice is good that I should go out in the midst of the camp... because in this, you will know what your servant will do.' ... Then the king answered and said... 'You shall be the guardian of my head for all days, for I have known you to be faithful to me.'" Alshich on I Samuel 28:1:1

The Alshich reveals the psychological chess match taking place. David cannot say, "I will fight against my own people, Israel," because that would be a betrayal of his soul. But he also cannot say, "I refuse," because that would mean immediate death. He must navigate this space with extreme wisdom, speaking in a way that allows him to maintain his integrity while surviving the transition.

The Malbim (Rabbi Meir Leibush ben Yehiel Michel Weiser) takes this analysis a step further, focusing on the specific role Achish assigns to David: "I will appoint you my bodyguard [literally, 'guardian of my head'] for life" I Samuel 28:2. In his commentary, the Malbim writes:

"He wished to say: 'You will not go out among the soldiers of the army, but rather you will go out with me.' For around the king walked the royal guard to protect him... and mostly, he would choose for this men of valor from another land, who would not join with his own army in a rebellion... And he did not want him to go with the general army, because he feared that David would not want to fight against Israel, or he feared that the Philistines would not trust him. However, to guard the head of the king—in this, he trusted in his faithfulness and his might." Malbim on I Samuel 28:1:2

This is a stunning insight for a prospective convert. The Malbim explains that Achish did not put David on the front lines because the Philistine soldiers would not trust a Hebrew, and because David himself would struggle to fight his own people. Instead, he made him the guardian of his head—a position often reserved for foreigners who had no local political ties and were therefore entirely dependent on and loyal to the king.

When you are in the process of conversion, you may feel this double distrust. The secular or non-Jewish world you are leaving behind may look at your growing commitment to Judaism with confusion, skepticism, or even a sense of betrayal. At the same time, the Jewish community—which has survived centuries of persecution by being cautious about who it lets in—may initially meet you with a polite, protective distance. They want to ensure your sincerity. They want to know: Who are you? Where do your loyalties lie?

Like David, you must guard your "head"—your mind, your intentions, your spiritual integrity. You must recognize that liminality is not a sign of failure; it is a necessary, sacred stage of the journey. The beit din is not looking for someone who has never struggled with their identity. They are looking for someone who, like David, has navigated the tension of their circumstances with a steadfast commitment to the God of Israel, showing that when the moment of decision comes, their soul is firmly aligned with the Jewish people.

Insight 2: The Tragedy of Seeking Shortcuts vs. the Daily Fidelity of the Covenant

Let us now turn our attention to the heart of the chapter: Saul’s desperate journey to En-dor I Samuel 28:7-10.

Saul is terrified. The Philistine army is encamped at Shunem, and when Saul looks at their forces, "his heart trembled with fear" I Samuel 28:5. He seeks a word from God, but there is only silence. In his panic, instead of turning inward in repentance, instead of seeking to repair his relationship with God through the slow, painful work of self-examination, Saul demands of his servants: "Find me a woman who consults ghosts, so that I can go to her and inquire through her" I Samuel 28:7.

This is the classic human temptation: when faced with spiritual silence or uncertainty, we look for a quick fix. We want a sign. We want an immediate, magical answer that bypasses the hard work of building a relationship.

Notice the details of Saul's journey. He disguises himself. He puts on different clothes. He travels by night I Samuel 28:8. Everything about this act is characterized by darkness, concealment, and a rejection of his true identity. He goes to a woman who, as she herself points out, is practicing a banned, illegal art I Samuel 28:9.

When the woman hesitates, fearing for her life, Saul does something deeply tragic. The text says: "Saul swore to her by God: 'As God lives, you won’t get into trouble over this'" I Samuel 28:10.

Let us look at how Metzudat David (Rabbi David Altschuler) and Metzudat Zion unpack this moment. Metzudat David writes:

"'As God lives' — Behold, I swear to you: As God lives, if any punishment shall happen to you in this matter." Metzudat David on I Samuel 28:10:1

And Metzudat Zion explains the specific words used:

"Yikrej (will happen to you) — From the language of mikreh (chance/accident)." Metzudat Zion on I Samuel 28:10:1 "Avon (trouble/sin) — The matter of punishment, and so too: 'and we have borne their iniquities (avonoteihem)' Lamentations 5:7." Metzudat Zion on I Samuel 28:10:2

Consider the profound, tragic irony of this moment. Saul is swearing an oath using the name of the Living God (Chai Hashem) to guarantee safety for a woman performing an act that is a capital offense under God’s own law! He is using the language of the covenant to sanctify a betrayal of the covenant. Furthermore, by using the word yikrej (from mikreh, meaning chance or accident), Saul is revealing his compromised worldview. He is hoping that this forbidden act can slip by "by chance," unnoticed by divine providence, free from consequence (avon/onesh).

For someone exploring conversion, this is a vital warning. The spiritual world is full of "mediums of En-dor"—teachers, philosophies, and practices that promise quick, ecstatic, or magical connections to the Divine without the burden of ethical responsibility or daily commitment. It can be tempting, when the process of conversion feels long, academic, or dry, to look for shortcuts. You might think: Why do I need to learn all these blessings? Why do I need to spend months learning how to keep kosher or observe Shabbat? Can't I just feel Jewish in my heart? Can't I just have a private, spiritual connection to God?

But Judaism is not a religion of the night, of disguises, or of trying to bypass divine providence through "chance." It is a religion of the day. It is built on the understanding that holiness is not found in rare, ecstatic escapes from reality, but in the sanctification of the everyday.

When Saul brings up Samuel, the prophet’s ghost does not offer comfort. He offers a devastating reality check: "Why do you ask me, seeing that God has turned away from you and has become your adversary?... God has torn the kingship out of your hands... because you did not obey God" I Samuel 28:16-18.

Samuel reminds Saul that you cannot use ritual magic to bypass ethical and covenantal disobedience. The ghost cannot save him from the consequences of his actions.

This is the candid truth of gerut: there are no shortcuts. The beauty of becoming Jewish lies precisely in the process. It lies in the slow, conscious dismantling of your old "disguises" and the putting on of new, authentic garments of mitzvot. It is found in the daily decision to say a blessing over food, to pause your work for Shabbat, to study Torah even when you don't feel inspired, and to show up for your community when they are in mourning.

When you stand before the beit din, they will not ask you if you have had mystical visions. They will ask you how you keep Shabbat, how you integrate yourself into the community, and how your daily life reflects the ethical demands of the Torah. They want to see that you have moved past the desperate seeking of Saul and have embraced the quiet, steady fidelity of a life lived in relationship with the Living God.

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Lived Rhythm

How do we translate this profound contrast between Saul's chaotic, desperate night and the structured, daylight fidelity of the covenant into a concrete, daily practice?

The antidote to Saul’s panic is the cultivation of a daily spiritual structure—what we call halakha (literally, "the walking"). When God feels silent, we do not seek out ghosts; we show up for the daily rhythms of Jewish life. This builds the internal "container" that can hold the immense light of conversion.

Your concrete next step is to establish a daily practice of Morning Gratitude and Blessings (Brachot).

Step-by-Step Guide to the Morning Rhythm

Instead of waking up and immediately checking your phone (which often induces a state of modern anxiety not unlike Saul's panic before the Philistine camp), you will train yourself to wake up into the covenant.

+-------------------------------------------------------------+
|                     YOUR MORNING RHYTHM                     |
+-------------------------------------------------------------+
|                                                             |
|  1. WAKE UP & SAY:                                          |
|     "Modeh/Modah ani lefanecha..." (Gratitude for life)     |
|                                                             |
|  2. WASH HANDS (Netilat Yadayim):                           |
|     Pour water over each hand 3 times.                      |
|                                                             |
|  3. RECITING THE BLESSINGS:                                 |
|     * Asher Yatzar (Gratitude for the working body)         |
|     * Birchot HaTorah (Blessing for studying Torah)         |
|                                                             |
+-------------------------------------------------------------+

1. The First Breath (Modeh/Modah Ani): The very moment you open your eyes, before your feet even touch the floor, sit up and say the Modeh Ani (for men) or Modah Ani (for women) prayer. This is a simple declaration of gratitude that God has returned your soul to you for another day. It requires no ritual purity, no special garments—just a conscious recognition of life as a gift.

   Hebrew: מוֹדֶה/מוֹדָה אֲנִי לְפָנֶיךָ, מֶלֶךְ חַי וְקַיָּם, שֶׁהֶחֱזַרְתָּ בִּי נִשְׁמָתִי בְּחֶמְלָה, רַבָּה אֱמוּנָתֶךָ.

   Transliteration: Modeh (m) / Modah (f) ani lefanecha, Melech chai v'kayam, she-hechezarta bi nishmati b'chemlah, rabbah emunatecha.

   Translation: "I offer thanks before You, living and eternal King, for You have mercifully restored my soul within me; great is Your faithfulness."

2. The Ritual Washing (Netilat Yadayim): Go to the sink, take a cup of water, and pour it over your hands three times, alternating right and left. This physical act represents a transition from the state of sleep (which Jewish tradition views as a minor form of death, a "liminal" state) into the active purity of a new day. It is a boundary-making ritual, separating the night from the day.

3. The Blessing of the Body (Asher Yatzar): Once your hands are clean, recite the Asher Yatzar blessing Mishnah Berachot 60b. This is one of the most profound prayers in the Jewish liturgy. It thanks God for the miraculous, intricate biological functioning of the human body—for the "tubes and openings" that keep us alive.

   This prayer is the ultimate antidote to Saul’s despair. Saul viewed his body as a tool to be disguised and dragged to a medium; Judaism views the body as a temple of the Divine. By thanking God for your physical health, you are grounding your spirituality in physical reality.

4. The Blessing of Torah (Birchot HaTorah): Before you study any Jewish text, say the blessings over Torah study. This establishes that your learning is not just an academic exercise, but a sacred encounter with the Divine. It connects you to the chain of tradition stretching back to Sinai, ensuring you are not searching in the dark like Saul, but walking in the light of divine revelation.

Why This Matters for Your Path

By committing to this morning routine, you are doing something revolutionary. You are telling yourself, the Jewish people, and God: I do not need supernatural signs or midnight magic to feel connected. I find God in the morning light, in the simple breath of my lungs, in the washing of my hands, and in the study of Torah. This is the daily, sustainable rhythm of a Jew.

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Community

One of the most revealing moments in I Samuel 28 is Saul’s isolation. When he goes to En-dor, he does so in secret, accompanied by only two men I Samuel 28:8. He cannot consult his nation, his priests, or his community because he knows he is operating outside the communal boundaries. His spiritual search is lonely, desperate, and ultimately destructive.

Judaism is not a religion of solitary seekers. It is a communal covenant. You cannot be Jewish alone. The process of conversion is not just about adopting a set of beliefs; it is about being adopted by a family.

Therefore, your next step in the physical world is to connect with a Jewish community through structured learning and mentorship.

+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
|                       COMMUNAL ENGAGEMENT                       |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
|                                                                 |
|   [ Individual Study ] ----> [ Find Sponsoring Rabbi ]          |
|                                     |                           |
|                                     v                           |
|   [ Join Weekly Shiur/Class ] <---> [ Enter the Synagogue ]     |
|                                                                 |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+

Finding Your "Sponsoring Rabbi" and Study Group

If you have been studying primarily online or from books, it is time to step out of the shadows of solitary learning.

1. Identify an Orthodox or Conservative Synagogue: Depending on the path of halakhic conversion you are pursuing, identify a local synagogue that aligned with that path. Reach out to the rabbi. You do not need to walk in and say, "I want to convert today." In fact, traditional rabbis may initially discourage you or test your sincerity—not out of cruelty, but to ensure you understand the weight of the commitment.

   Write an email or make a call. Say: "I am currently exploring Judaism and learning about the covenant. I have been studying on my own, and I would like to attend a service or join a basic class to experience the community."

2. Join a Weekly Shiur (Torah Class): Do not just attend services, which can feel overwhelming if you do not yet know the liturgy. Seek out a weekly shiur (class) on the Torah portion (Parashat HaShavua) or basic Jewish law.

   Sitting in a room with other Jews, hearing them argue over texts, ask questions, and share their lives, is where real conversion happens. It is where you move from studying "Judaism" as an abstract concept to loving "the Jewish people" as a living, breathing reality.

3. Embrace the Discomfort of Being "New": Like David among the Philistines, you may feel self-conscious or out of place at first. You might worry about making a mistake, holding the prayerbook upside down, or not knowing when to stand or sit.

   This vulnerability is a sacred part of the process. Every convert who came before you stood in those exact shoes. By showing up despite the discomfort, you are proving your sincerity to yourself and to the community. You are choosing the daylight of shared community over the safe, hidden darkness of solitary study.

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Takeaway

The narrative of I Samuel 28 is a powerful reminder of what lies at stake on the path of conversion. It contrasts two ways of navigating spiritual uncertainty: the desperate, anxious search for shortcuts in the dark, and the patient, courageous commitment to identity and covenantal boundaries in the light.

As you explore gerut, remember that the silence of God is not a rejection; it is an invitation to draw closer through the daily, structured beauty of Jewish life. Do not look for magic signs, and do not let fear drive you to seek shortcuts. Instead, like David, guard your spiritual integrity in the liminal spaces. Embrace the daily rhythms of brachot, step into the warmth of the Jewish community, and trust the process.

The path is long, and the commitments are real, but the beauty of standing before the beit din and stepping into the mikveh as a fully recognized, beloved member of the Jewish people is worth every step of the journey. Walk forward with courage, sincerity, and joy. You are not walking alone.