I Samuel 28

Hook

Picture a candlelit study hall in Aleppo, Syria, or a sun-drenched courtyard in Safed, where the ancient stories of prophets and kings are not merely read as historical relics, but are sung, debated, and breathed as living drama. In the Sephardic and Mizrahi worlds, the biblical text is an exquisite tapestry of linguistic precision, strategic brilliance, and deep psychological depth. When we read of King Saul’s desperate, shadow-drenched night at Endor or David’s high-stakes diplomatic chess match with the Philistine king Achish, we do not just read words—we enter a multi-sensory sanctuary of song, philosophy, and precise textual analysis. Here, the text sings in ancient musical modes (maqamat), and every grammatical nuance becomes a key to unlocking the secrets of human nature, leadership, and the divine.

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Context

To truly appreciate the depth of this heritage, we must ground ourselves in the soil from which these interpretations and customs grew. The Sephardic and Mizrahi approach to Tanakh (the Hebrew Bible) is characterized by a unique synthesis of rigorous linguistic analysis, philosophical rationalism, and deep mystical sensitivity.

Place: The Great Synagogues and Study Halls of the Levant and North Africa

Our journey takes us to the historic centers of Sephardic and Mizrahi scholarship: Aleppo (Aram Soba), Damascus, Baghdad, and the mountaintop city of Safed in the Galilee. These cities were vibrant crossroads of culture where Jewish scholars lived in close proximity to Arabic-speaking and Ottoman cultures, deeply influencing their musical, linguistic, and philosophical frameworks.

Era: The Post-Expulsion Golden Age (16th to 19th Centuries)

Following the expulsion of Jews from Spain in 1492, exile communities resettled across the Ottoman Empire. This period witnessed an unparalleled explosion of textual commentary and liturgical poetry (piyut). Scholars like Rabbi Moshe Alshich (the Alshich Kadosh, 1508–1593) in Safed delivered weekly sermons that blended literal interpretation (peshat) with allegorical and mystical insights, drawing crowds of thousands who hung on every word.

Community: The Musta'arabi and Megorashim Synthesis

The communities that shaped this heritage were a beautiful blend of the Musta'arabim (the indigenous, Arabic-speaking Jews of the Middle East) and the Megorashim (the Spanish exiles). Together, they created an intellectual environment where grammatical precision was paired with emotional warmth, and where the study of Torah was inseparable from the singing of classical poetry and the mastery of complex musical scales.

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Text Snapshot

The following passage from I Samuel 28:1-2 and I Samuel 28:7-10 captures the dual crises of this narrative: David’s precarious position as a double agent among the Philistines, and Saul’s tragic descent into isolation as he seeks out the medium of Endor.

וַיְהִי בַּיָּמִים הָהֵם וַיִּקְבְּצוּ פְלִשְׁתִּים אֶת־מַחֲנֵיהֶם לַצָּבָא לְהִלָּחֵם בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל וַיֹּאמֶר אָכִישׁ אֶל־דָּוִד יָדֹעַ תֵּדַע כִּי אִתִּי תֵּצֵא בַמַּחֲנֶה אַתָּה וַאֲנָשֶׁיךָ׃ וַיֹּאמֶר דָּוִד אֶל־אָכִישׁ לָכֵן אַתָּה תֵדַע אֵת אֲשֶׁר־יַעֲשֶׂה עַבְדֶּךָ וַיֹּאמֶר אָכִישׁ אֶל־דָּוִד לָכֵן שֹׁמֵר לְרֹאשִׁי אֲשִׂימְךָ כָּל־הַיָּמִים׃

At that time the Philistines mustered their forces for war, to take the field against Israel. Achish said to David, “You know, of course, that you and your men must march out with my forces.” David answered Achish, “You surely know what your servant will do.” “In that case,” Achish replied to David, “I will appoint you my bodyguard for life.”I Samuel 28:1-2

וַיֹּאמֶר שָׁאוּל לַעֲבָדָיו בַּקְּשׁוּ־לִי אֵשֶׁת בַּעֲלַת־אוֹב וְאֵלְכָה־אֵלֶיהָ וְאֶדְרְשָׁה־בָּהּ... וַיִּשָּׁבַע לָהּ שָׁאוּל בַּיהוָה לֵאמֹר חַי־יְהוָה אִם־יִקְּרֵךְ עָוֺן בַּדָּבָר הַזֶּה׃

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 Saul swore to her by God: “As God lives, you won’t get into trouble over this.”I Samuel 28:7, I Samuel 28:10

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Minhag/Melody

The Maqam System: Scoring the Drama of the Soul

In the Sephardic and Mizrahi traditions, particularly among Syrian, Egyptian, and Iraqi Jews, the liturgy of the synagogue is structured around the Maqam system—a classical system of Arabic melodic modes. Rather than singing the prayers to static melodies, the cantor (Hazzan) improvises the prayers within a specific maqam selected for that week. This selection is not arbitrary; it is carefully chosen to reflect the emotional theme, the spiritual mood, or the narrative arc of the weekly Torah portion or the accompanying Haftarah.

When chanting the dramatic and haunting events of I Samuel 28, a master Sephardic Hazzan would instinctively draw upon Makam Hijaz or Makam Saba.

Makam Hijaz: The Voice of Solitude and Awe

Makam Hijaz is a scale characterized by an augmented second interval, producing a sound that is profoundly evocative, solemn, and laced with a sense of divine mystery. It is the scale of deep yearning, used when the text speaks of existential crises, awe before the Divine, or intense prayer.

When applied to Saul's journey to Endor, the haunting tones of Hijaz capture the tragic isolation of a king from whom God has turned away. As the Hazzan chants Saul’s words, "I am greatly troubled... God has turned away from me and no longer answers me" (I Samuel 28:15), the microtonal inflections of Hijaz mirror the trembling of Saul's heart. The music itself becomes a commentary, conveying the terror of the silent heavens and the desperation of a leader walking into the shadows of the night.

Makam Saba: The Cry of Brokenness

Alternatively, some traditions utilize Makam Saba, a mode that begins with a diminished fourth, creating an atmosphere of profound grief, weeping, and brokenness. Saba is the musical expression of a broken heart.

By chanting Saul’s encounters in Saba, the congregation is invited to feel empathy for the tragic king. It strips away any sense of judgment, replacing it with a shared human grief over Saul’s impending doom. Through the medium of the maqam, the congregation does not merely hear a story about an ancient seance; they feel the weight of a soul facing its final hours.

Textual Analysis: The Masterclass of the Alshich and Malbim

To understand the intellectual depth that accompanies this musical expression, we must turn to the classic commentaries prized within the Sephardic study tradition. Our commentators are highly sensitive to the psychological and political dynamics occurring beneath the surface of the text.

In I Samuel 28:1, the Philistine king Achish demands that David join him in battle against his own people, Israel. The biblical text presents a highly tense, ambiguous dialogue. Let us look at how the great commentators unpack this moment.

The Alshich on David’s Strategic Silence

Rabbi Moshe Alshich, in his monumental commentary Marot HaTzoveot, analyzes the precise language used by Achish and David. He asks: why does the text use the double language of Yado'a teda ("Know, you shall know")? And why does David respond with the word Lachen ("Therefore")?

The Alshich explains that Achish was playing a high-stakes political game:

"Achish, trusting in David not to betray him, said to him: Yado'a teda—meaning, that which will inevitably become known to you at the end when the camp sets out, know it already now... I do not fear that you will reveal this to your people Israel to strengthen their hand beforehand... Therefore, it is best that you do not know anything until the time of action, lest Israel's ear be uncovered. But Achish, wanting to test him, said 'know it now.' To this David responded: Lachen ('Therefore')... meaning, your counsel to bring me in the midst of the camp is excellent. For lachen—as a direct consequence of this—you will see what your servant will do. If I were to remain behind, your heart would tremble in battle, wondering what David is doing in your rear. But by placing me in your midst, you will have no worry, for you will see my actions directly."

The Alshich reveals David’s brilliant, double-edged diplomacy. David uses the word lachen to reassure the Philistine king of his utility, while deliberately leaving the actual nature of his future actions completely ambiguous. He promises to act, but does not specify for whom he will fight.

The Malbim on the "Guardian of the Head"

This reading is beautifully complemented by the commentary of the Malbim (Rabbi Meir Leibush ben Yehiel Michel), whose works were widely integrated into Sephardic study halls due to his precise grammatical focus.

Commenting on I Samuel 28:1:1 and I Samuel 28:1:2, the Malbim explains why Achish responds to David's ambiguity by making him his personal bodyguard (shomer l'roshi):

"Achish meant: 'You will not go out among the general soldiers, but rather you will go out with me... for around the king go the royal guard to protect him from enemies or from his own rebellious subjects. And usually, kings would choose brave men from foreign lands for this duty, so they would not join with the local populace in any rebellion... Achish did not want David to go with the general army, because he feared that David would not want to fight against Israel, or that the Philistine lords would not trust him. However, to guard the king's own head—in this, Achish trusted David's personal loyalty and bravery.'"

Through the lens of the Malbim, we see that Achish's decision to make David his personal bodyguard was a brilliant administrative move designed to bypass the suspicions of the Philistine generals (as detailed later in I Samuel 29) while securing a fierce, foreign warrior for his personal protection.

Linguistics: Metzudat Zion on Saul's Desperate Oath

The linguistic precision of the Sephardic tradition is further exemplified by the Metzudat Zion and Metzudat David commentaries (authored by the Altschuler family, but universally embraced in Sephardic study for their clear, concise explanations of Hebrew roots).

When Saul swears to the medium of Endor that she will not face punishment for raising Samuel's spirit, the Hebrew text reads: Chai-Hashem im-yikrech avon badavar hazeh (I Samuel 28:10).

• Metzudat David notes on Chai Hashem: "I swear by the living God: By the life of God, no punishment will befall you in this matter."
• Metzudat Zion digs into the root of the word yikrech: "From the language of 'mikreh' (happenstance/occurrence)."
• On the word avon, Metzudat Zion clarifies: "This refers to 'onash' (punishment), just as we find in Lamentations 5:7: 'And we have borne their iniquities (avonoteihem)'—meaning, we have borne the punishment of their sins."

This grammatical dissection shows how Saul, in his state of extreme spiritual crisis, uses a holy oath (Chai Hashem) to sanction an unholy act (necromancy). The commentators do not gloss over this irony; they highlight how Saul's language betrays his fractured spiritual state, attempting to use the name of the God who has abandoned him to protect a practice that God has forbidden.

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Contrast

The narrative of Saul and the medium of Endor has long been a source of theological discussion across the Jewish world. When we compare the Sephardic/Mizrahi approach to this text with other traditions, we uncover a beautiful, respectful divergence in how we handle the supernatural, the rational, and the performance of sacred text.

The Rationalist vs. Mystical Balance

One of the most profound contrasts lies in the theological interpretation of the seance itself. Did the medium of Endor actually raise the prophet Samuel from the dead?

The Sephardic Rationalist Legacy (Maimonidean)

Following the rationalist school of Spanish and North African thinkers, most famously codified by Maimonides (Rambam) in his Mishnah Torah, Laws of Idolatry 11:16, the supernatural elements of necromancy are viewed as psychological illusions and clever deceptions. Rambam states clearly that all forms of magic, divination, and spirit-channeling are complete falsehoods used by charlatans to deceive the simple-minded.

For followers of this rationalist path, the woman of Endor did not actually bring up Samuel. Rather, she utilized trickery, ventriloquism, or psychological suggestion to make the terrified, sleep-deprived, and starving King Saul believe he was speaking to the prophet.

The Northern European/Ashkenazi Pietist and Kabbalistic Views

In contrast, many classical Ashkenazi commentators, such as the Chasidei Ashkenaz (the German Pietists of the Middle Ages) and later Hasidic masters, were much more inclined to view the event as a literal supernatural occurrence. They understood that the woman did indeed have the power to access real spiritual forces, or that God performed a unique, terrifying miracle by allowing Samuel's soul to actually return and speak to Saul to deliver his final sentence.

Even within the Sephardic world itself, a fascinating tension exists. While the rationalist school rejects the reality of the seance, the Kabbalistic school of Safed (rooted in the Zohar and the teachings of the Ari, Rabbi Isaac Luria) accepts the existence of spiritual realms, gilgulim (reincarnations), and the capacity to interact with departed souls. However, they emphasize that such practices are strictly forbidden by Halakha (Jewish law) because they disrupt the natural order of the cosmos.

Thus, while an Ashkenazi approach might focus on the metaphysical mechanics of how the soul was raised, a Sephardic approach—whether rationalist or Kabbalistic—will consistently ground the discussion in the ethical, legal, and psychological state of Saul, emphasizing his tragic self-destruction.

Cantillation and Narrative Flow: Sephardic vs. Ashkenazi Reading Styles

The difference in how this text is experienced is also auditory. The chanting of the Haftarah (the prophetic reading) reveals distinct aesthetic values between the two traditions.

+-------------------------+-------------------------------------------------+-------------------------------------------------+
| Aesthetic Dimension     | Sephardic / Mizrahi Tradition                   | Ashkenazi Tradition                             |
+-------------------------+-------------------------------------------------+-------------------------------------------------+
| Cantillation Style      | Ornamental, fluid, and microtonal; utilizes     | Dramatic, structured, and intervallic; utilizes |
|                         | regional maqamat (melodic modes) to reflect     | fixed, motifs (tropes) that emphasize individual|
|                         | the overall emotional landscape of the text.    | word-painting and dramatic pauses.              |
+-------------------------+-------------------------------------------------+-------------------------------------------------+
| Narrative Pacing        | Steady, continuous, and conversational; treats  | Punctuated and declamatory; highlights specific |
|                         | the text as an ongoing, epic dialogue with a    | theological or emotional climaxes through       |
|                         | rhythmic flow.                                  | sudden shifts in pitch and volume.              |
+-------------------------+-------------------------------------------------+-------------------------------------------------+
| Role of the Congregation| Highly participatory; the community hums along  | Primarily receptive; the congregation listens   |
|                         | and actively responds to the Hazzan's           | quietly, absorbing the formal, dramatic solo    |
|                         | improvisations within the maqam.                | presentation of the reader.                     |
+-------------------------+-------------------------------------------------+-------------------------------------------------+

In the Sephardic reading, the text is chanted with a flowing, narrative rhythm. The focus is on the seamless transmission of the story as a living dialogue. The Hazzan’s vocal ornamentations do not interrupt the flow of the sentences but rather carry them forward, ensuring that the listener is swept up in the historical and emotional momentum of the scene.

In the Ashkenazi tradition, the cantillation (trope) is often more declamatory and dramatic, with sharp, distinct musical phrases that call attention to individual words. This creates a performance of the text that feels highly punctuated, where each theological or emotional climax is highlighted by a sudden musical shift.

Both styles are holy; both carry the word of God across the generations. The Ashkenazi style highlights the majesty and gravity of each individual word, while the Sephardic style invites the listener into a continuous, deeply felt musical and narrative journey.

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Home Practice

The rich heritage of Sephardic and Mizrahi study is not meant to be admired from afar; its practices are designed to be integrated into our homes, transforming our tables and study spaces into vibrant centers of connection. Here is one beautiful, accessible practice that anyone can adopt to bring this tradition to life.

The Shabbat Table "Tafsir" and Makam Reflection

In many Sephardic and Mizrahi homes, particularly on Friday nights or Sabbath afternoons, the study of the weekly Torah portion and the Haftarah is not a dry reading of commentaries. Instead, it is a communal, oral experience known as Tafsir (which means "explanation" or "translation" in Judeo-Arabic).

You can bring this practice to your own table through these steps:

1. Set the Atmosphere

After the Shabbat meal, clear the plates but leave the candles burning. Pour a cup of tea infused with mint (na'na) or cardamom, and set out small bowls of almonds, walnuts, and dried fruits (a classic Sephardic mezza of sweet treats).

2. Choose a "Tafsir" Reader

Select a passage of high drama from the weekly reading—such as the dialogue between David and Achish, or Saul’s encounter at Endor. Have one person read a verse in Hebrew, and have another read the translation aloud with dramatic, expressive voice.

3. Apply the "Makam" Question

Instead of asking standard comprehension questions, ask your family or guests to engage with the emotional key of the text, mirroring the ancient Hazzanim who chose the musical modes:

• “If this scene were a movie, what kind of music would be playing in the background? Would it be the tense, mysterious chords of Hijaz (awe and fear), or the weeping, emotional strings of Saba (grief and brokenness)?”
• “Where in our own lives this week have we felt like David—having to speak with careful, strategic wisdom (lachen) in a difficult situation? Or like Saul—feeling as though the heavens are silent, and having to find the strength to face tomorrow?”

4. Close with a Song

Sing a beloved Shabbat song (a pizmon or zemirah) that matches that emotional tone. If the discussion was deep and solemn, choose a slow, meditative melody. If it was inspiring, let the table erupt into a joyful, rhythmic song accompanied by clapping.

By doing this, you transform the study of Tanakh from an intellectual exercise into a sensory, emotional, and communal experience—just as it has been in the courtyards of the Levant for centuries.

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Takeaway

The dramatic events of I Samuel 28 present us with the full spectrum of human vulnerability: the high-stakes political tightrope walked by David, and the tragic, isolated desperation of King Saul.

The Sephardic and Mizrahi heritage meets this raw human drama not with fear or simplistic moralizing, but with a magnificent array of intellectual, linguistic, and musical tools. Through the strategic insights of the Alshich, the grammatical precision of the Malbim, and the evocative, soul-stirring power of the Maqam system, this tradition teaches us how to hold the most complex human emotions.

When we study Tanakh through this lens, we learn that even in our darkest nights—when the heavens seem silent and we feel as though we are walking in the shadows of Endor—we are never truly alone. We are accompanied by the voices of our ancestors, who sang their questions, debated their doubts, and turned even their deepest tragedies into sacred, enduring song. Let us carry their pride, their intellectual rigor, and their beautiful melodies forward into our own lives, ensuring that the great song of our heritage continues to vibrate in our homes and communities for generations to come.