Abstract
This study engages the ironic representation of Saul as a ‘prophet’ and his later characterization at Endor, noting the subversion of his original prophetic introduction in 1 Samuel 9–10 and the parody of this same representation through his identification with witchcraft/divination in 1 Samuel 28. The parody sabotages the royal aspirations of the Saulides because it associates them with the forbidden practice of witchcraft. The study also shows the underlying importance of Saul's characterization at Endor within the Deuteronomistic history, especially in the quest subtly to associate Saul with the major villains of this same history who are not only connected to these same banned cultic practices but also blamed for the exile. Saul is thus intentionally implicated and further criminalized as the prototype of subsequent kingship's failure, and the Endor incident becomes an ominous sign of doom not only for the Saulides but also for the entire nation of Israel.
Keywords
Introduction
The representation of Saul at Endor is the most perplexing characterization in biblical narrative because it is the only time in biblical literature when a character is graphically described as consulting the underworld through the medium of divination/witchcraft. 1 Unfortunately, we often take for granted that this is the only place in the Deuteronomistic History (= DtrH) and the entire Hebrew Bible where an encounter with a ghost, a spooky witch, an animated conversation with the dead, and the puzzling collaboration between a prophet and a witch all take place together in the same scene. 2 Interestingly, these highlighted particularities make this pericope remarkably important because its odd features are deliberately turned into defining means of characterization. 3 In addition, this pericope, employing further odd means of representation, describes the problematic summoning back to life of Yahweh's dead prophet by a witch/diviner in order to speak once more to the world of the living. 4 Curiously enough, despite the unacceptability of witchcraft/divination in the religious consciousness of the Deuteronomist (= Dtr), he nevertheless devoted twenty-three verses to the representation of Saul in this particular scene. Customarily reticent, the Dtr would normally summarize such an incident in a sentence or two if it bore no major or immediate importance to his overall story. 5 Here, however, he chooses to narrate this incident fully, because, as we are going to see, it occupies a strategic position in his later characterizations.
Strangely too, there is the amazing fusion of the domains of prophecy and witchcraft/divination within this same pericope. 6 In particular, the demarcating lines between prophecy and divination/witchcraft were here temporarily suspended, and it appears the world of the prophet/seer is completely fused with the world of the witch/diviner, thus allowing them, in spite of their apparent conflict, to stay together momentarily in the same cultic space. This unusual representation principally bridges the cultic divides between the two horizons and also allows the crossing of the liminal-border which had formerly put these spheres in opposing horizons. 7 Consequently, the attempted synthesis of prophecy and witchcraft/divination in this pericope provides a unique occurrence in the art and techniques of biblical characterization which further underscores its overall importance in the Dtr's thought. 8
Remarkably, also, the crossing of these thresholds and the merger of these two spheres reflect, ironically, the defining transitions in the representations of Saul in 1 Samuel. Needless to say, the introduction of Saul in 1 Samuel, and his subsequent representation at the end of the book, bears this mixed element of ironic representations. Closely linked, the early prophetic representation of Saul in 1 Samuel 9–10 is placed in ideological dialogue with the witch episode of 1 Samuel 28. These connections have been noted in scholarly discourses; unfortunately, however, several other interests have largely dominated the discussion of the characterization of Saul at Endor which fundamentally ignored the intersection of these domains, or have treated the connections as a matter of marginal interest. 9
Beyond the passing comments on Endor, Graeme Auld has identified subtle literary connections between 1 Samuel 28 and the earlier representation of Saul which take the reader ‘back to Saul's early encounters with Samuel and prophets’. 10 He has also engaged particular motifs at Endor which echo the ‘first meeting’ of Saul and Samuel. 11 Similarly, Robert Polzin has also underscored a ‘gross anatomical similarity’ between the beginning of 1 Samuel and the later representations of Saul. 12 Noting this connection, Polzin went even further to show the specific importance of Saul's prophetic characterization in ch. 9 and his tragic representation at Endor. He observed,
Ever since Samuel and Saul first crossed paths in chapter 9 the story has combined their character zones and fused their fates so completely that one has only to come upon their final confrontation in chapter 28 to feel how fitting a conclusion it is to their association. Threads that bound them together throughout the story are interwoven into the account of their meeting at Endor … One thread that has bound together Israel's last judge and first king from the start is Samuel's inducement of Saul to commingle the roles of prophet and king, thus provoking disastrous consequences for both of them. 13
Even though Polzin recognizes the importance of reading together these opposing characterizations, and duly highlights the incongruity of Saul's earlier representations as prophet and his later involvement with witchcraft, he fails largely to emphasize the parodic intent of these subverting representations and its importance in DtrH. Rather, the Polzinian reading of 1 Samuel as a ‘royal parable’ essentially treats the voices and characters within the DtrH as representative of symbolic intent, which primarily ‘reverberates backward and forward on the question of kingship in Israel’. 14 From this perspective, for instance, Saul's eating with the witch, according to Polzin, is a Dtr's parable which probably reflects the fate of the last Davidic king, Jehoiachin, who is said to have eaten daily at the table of the Babylonian king while in captivity (2 Kgs 25.30). 15 Thus, this Polzinian reading inevitably reduced the witch of Endor into a Dtr symbol for Babylon. 16
In contrast, this study seeks to read the earlier prophetization of Saul and his later identification with witchcraft in terms of parody, while still acknowledging the possible symbolic character of the DtrH in appropriate places. 17 In addition, this study also notes that the placement of these two pericopes by the Dtr in binary pole of propheticism and witchcraft moves beyond the immediate quest to mock the Saulides, also to make an important ideological connection through the subtle identification of Saul with other villains of DtrH. At Endor, Saul, like these villains, is indirectly blamed for the exile because of his involvement with the same forbidden cultic practices which the Dtr believed were responsible for the exile. 18 Consequently, the burden of the present study is to show the various thematic and literary parallels between the earlier and later representations of Saul, the parody involved, and the larger ideological purposes of Endor in the template of DtrH.
Endor and Saul's Earlier Prophetic Representation
In noting specific artistic features of 1 Samuel, Polzin has described the common use of ‘verbal and thematic correspondences to preceding events’ by the narrator in order to tie ‘together certain short threads of the story’. 19 Thus, the narrator of 1 Samuel engages in a deliberate quest to unify certain aspects of his stories. By this same device, the witch's pericope and the earlier representation of Saul appear to be ideologically bound to each other through these literary and thematic ties. 20 However, while the individual aspects of these highlighted connections cannot stand independently, a collection of these allusions together constitutes more compelling evidence. 21 Considering these important connections, the present study tabulates subtle literary motifs and thematic parallels between the earlier representation of Saul and his later characterization at Endor. 22 Before engaging the specific prophetic representations, the following are some general indications of the thematic and literary parallels between the representations of Saul in his first and last appearances in 1 Samuel:
Beyond these general connections and allusions, however, there are further specific indications which tied the witch's episode to chs. 9 and 10. First, it seems the women at the well in 9.11–13 subtly anticipate or foreshadow the role of the witch in 28.11. At Endor, the witch literally brought up (הלע) the ghost of Samuel to meet Saul (28.11). 30 In the same curious way, the women at the well also directed Saul to go up (הלע) to the high place and meet Samuel (9.11–13). Significantly, the very point where the ghost of Samuel comes up from the ground to meet with Saul in 28.14 seems to echo the first meeting of Samuel and Saul in 9.14 especially by the resonating presence of הלע in both contexts. While the witch played the part of conjuring up Samuel for Saul, the women at the well played the part of leading/directing Saul to Samuel. Similarly, Polzin has noted the semi-prophetic flavour within the speeches of these women at the well. This semi-prophetic character of the women possibly anticipates the divinatory powers of the witch at the end of 1 Samuel 28 who, like the women at the well, will for the last time lead Saul to Samuel. 31 In both cases women enabled Saul to talk with Samuel. Importantly, these are the only two occurrences in Samuel where women served as intermediaries in connecting Saul to Samuel. This is even more important when one recognizes that the story of Samuel's first meeting with Saul could be told without the added presence of the women directing him. Consequently, the women at the well occupy the same position as the witch of Endor and anticipate the role of the witch in helping Saul to meet Samuel.
Secondly, there is also a thematic parallel between the first meeting between Samuel and Saul in ch. 9 and their last meeting with each other at the witch's house. For example, Samuel identifies Saul immediately upon meeting him in 9.15–18. 32 However, the witch does not immediately see through the disguise of Saul in 28.9. 33 Again, like the witch, Saul also does not immediately recognize Samuel at their first meeting in 9.15–18. 34 In addition, both pericopes underscore the need to consult and to know the paths of the future through either prophecy or divination. In ch. 9 there is the need to consult the prophet/seer in order to know the path or turn of future events (9.6). 35 In this precise quest to know the future, the representation of the ‘prophet Samuel, in this chapter, is a strange and mysterious character’, which also bears similarity to the mystery that surrounds the activities of the witch in 1 Samuel 28. 36 In fact, through witchcraft/divination (28.7), the witch also offered the same supernatural services which Samuel offered Saul at his first introduction in 1 Samuel. Seen in this light, the consultation of the future via the means of supernatural guidance dominates these two pericopes and joins them thematically. In short, these are the only two places in 1 Samuel where Saul's consultation of the future through the mediation of a prophet/witch is graphically reported. 37
Similarly, the character of Samuel occupies a dominant place in both pericopes. For example, Samuel prophetically gives the outcome of future events in 9.15–25, which ultimately leads to the anointing/kingship of Saul. Like this first prediction, the ghost of Samuel also gives the future outcome of events that finally lead to the death of Saul in 28.15-20. However, the outcomes of the two consultations are diametrically opposed: Saul receives positive prophetic direction through Samuel in 9.15–25; at the witch's house, however, he receives a negative prophetic oracle through the same Samuel.
The active presence of servants in both pericopes is also noteworthy. For example, Saul's servant recommended that Saul should consult the prophet in 9.6. In contrast, Saul asked his servants to help him find a witch in 28.7. Similarly, in talking with his servant, Saul was worried about the bread (םחל)/gift (הדושח) to give to the prophet. However, while Saul was worried about the ‘bread’ (םחל) to give to the prophet in 9.7, ironically at the end, the witch in the company of his servants also urged him to eat ‘bread’ (םחל). Finally, as already pointed out, Saul did actually eat the witch's food/bread (םחל) in 28.22, which stands in contrast to his eating and participation at the earlier prophetic meal of 9.19–27 in the company of his servant at the head of the table (v. 22). 38
Similarly, Saul's frustration and inability to know what to do at Endor is an ironic twist on the representation of Saul at his anointing. He confesses to the ghost of Samuel, ‘…I have called you, that you may make known to me what I should do (השע)’ (28.15). This self-confession stands in direct contrast to Samuel's original prophetic instructions to Saul in 10.7-8, which clearly specified the responsibility of what to do on Saul and Samuel. During the anointing of Saul, Samuel said to him, ‘Once these signs are fulfilled, do (השע) whatever your hand finds to do, for God is with you’ (v. 7). He also added, ‘And you shall go down before me to Gilgal; and behold, I will come down to you to offer burnt offerings and sacrifice peace offerings. You shall wait seven days until I come to you and show you what you should do’ (השע, v. 8). 39 With these original instructions in mind, it appears the prophetic guidance to know what to do at the time of his anointing is entirely reversed by his fears and inability to know what precise course of action to take at Endor.
In the light of the preceding connections, it seems that the first pericope presents the appointment of Saul (9.15–23) and the witch's pericope describes the final termination of this same appointment (28.15-19). 40 There are also ironic parallels between the description of the initial appointment of Saul as the דיגנ of Yahweh and the termination of this appointment at the witch's house. 41 First, both speeches emphasize the temporal horizon of tomorrow (דחמ). In 9.16, the speech of Samuel partly reads, ‘tomorrow I will send to you a man’ (שיח ךילא חלשא דחמ), while 28.19 says, ‘and tomorrow you and your sons will be with me’ (דחמוימע ךינבו החא). In his appointment, Saul is also described as the ‘anointed’ who will deliver Israel from the ‘hand of the Philistines’ (םיחשלפ די). Ironically, the phrase ‘hand of the Philistines’ (םיחשלפ־די) appears twice in the termination of Saul's appointment (28.19). The irony of these double emphases of םיחשלפ־די is indeed obvious because the same man that was anointed to deliver Israelites from the ‘hand of the Philistines’ will himself also fall by the ‘hand’ of the same Philistines. Small wonder, then, that the narrator made םיחשלפ־די the very last word from the lips of the ghost to Saul in order to emphasize perhaps this particular irony.
Similarly, in the termination of this same appointment, Auld has also observed the ‘three-part threat’ by the ghost of Samuel which appears to mimic the original three signs of his anointing in 10.1-8. Describing this analogy, Auld notes,
Samuel utters from beyond the grave a three-part threat (vv.17–19): (1) The Kingdom is to be torn from Saul's hand and given to his ‘neighbor’ David… (2) Saul and his sons are to join Samuel tomorrow. (3) The army of Israel is to be given into the hands of Philistines. This may remind us of the three signs he promised to encourage Saul when he first anointed him (10.1-8). It is only at beginning and end of his reign that Saul receives such declarations from Saul. 42
Possibly, for this same reason also, the first signs were preceded by a meal, and the termination of this same appointment was also followed by a meal. 43 Based on these apparent links, it appears that a connection exists between the earlier and later representations of Saul.
The Parody of Saul's Representation at Endor
In the art of parody, the concealment of the parodic intent is normally expected because parody works best when its presence is relatively hidden. In this respect, Margaret Rose notes that ‘most parody worthy of the name’ appears ‘ambivalent toward its target’. 44 In like manner, Yairah Amit has also observed the indirect means by which the narrator of Samuel generally narrates his story. She notes he often ‘relies upon indirect means in order to mitigate the starkness of the picture, not to show events in terms of black-and-white, but to present shades of gray, which are closer to reality’. 45 To be precise, the prophetic representation of Saul at the beginning and the placement of the same character at Endor show these ‘shades of gray’.
To identify this masked parody, one has to recognize the importance of Saul's earlier prophetic representations in 9.1–27; 10.1–27; 19.10, and 19.23–24. On the surface, the association of Saul with the prophetic tradition seems to honour him; however, a closer look suggests that these prophetic representations were intended to mock him. The parody of Saul's prophetic activities is captured in the reoccurring taunt: ‘Is Saul also among the prophets?’ As rightly observed by Polzin, this sarcastic question certainly implies that Saul ‘is not a prophet’. 46 Thus, through this rhetorical question, the narrator makes Saul a tragi-comic character who is deemed a misfit in the company of the prophets. Ironically too, at the end of his life, Saul is also tragically represented as a misfit in the company of kings.
On the necessity of comic element in parody, John A. Miles Jr has also observed that laughable character itself aims at creating a parody because ‘[i]t is crucial to the functioning of parody’ that persons or objects in the narrative should ‘be laughed at… ‘ 47 However, even though Saul's story is largely a tragedy, there is within this tragic representation a comic element in the location of an original prophetic character in the house of a witch. Sarcastically, in the encounter at Endor, the ‘former-prophesying figure’ Saul, the dead prophet Samuel and the witch met in this final and very important caricature of Saul in 1 Samuel. The tragedy of this encounter comes largely from the previous attribution of prophetic characterizations to Saul, who is now described in communion with the witch. On the other hand, the positive and negative elements in this representation point to the incongruous nature of this particular scene. Taken together, however, these positive and negative elements in the representations of Saul as both a prophet and as associated with witchcraft/divination fit very well with the ‘centrality of ridicule’ and ‘homage’ in the criteria for effective parody by Seymour Chatman. 48 Accordingly, Chatman observes that a true parody must ‘accommodate the ambivalence of criticism and homage’ at the same time. 49 In essence, then, the narrator accomplishes this intention by paying ‘homage’ to Saul as a ‘prophesying figure’, while at the same time ‘ridiculing’ this involvement by associating him with witchcraft/divination.
At Endor, the representation of Saul appears to show this negative component of parody. For example, Pamela T. Reis has shown the compromising nature of the representation of Saul at Endor. 50 According to Reis, the elaborate meals offered to Saul which primarily concentrated on the unleavened flour but not on the meat is actually a description of a covenant entered by the witch and Saul. She notes also other features in the text that further indict Saul. These features include the use of ‘sacrifice’ (חבז) rather than slaughter or butchering of the calf; the seductive nature of the context especially as seen in the phrase השאה אובח (v. 21), which, so Reis interprets, has a sexual connotation; the sitting on the edge of the bed (v. 23); the comparison between Saul and Michal's teraphim in the phrase הטמה־לא (19.13); the use of דגב to mean ‘unfaithfulness’ rather than mere clothing, as shown in the usage of the same word in the speech of Saul to his soldiers (14.13); 51 and the overriding significance placed on the meal in the pericope. 52 Reis observes that the witch trapped Saul into making covenant with the dead spirits by means of this meal. 53 In fact, according to Reis, the witch makes Saul eat meat with blood in order to secure her future and to provide the needed protection for Saul in the face of the battle of the next day. Even though Reis's analysis could be faulted for its over-reading of the text, her main thesis that the witch places Saul in a compromising position tallies very well with the general intention of the narrator who seems to demonize Saul in this passage. However, she fails to note, as already underscored in the preceding parallels of our study, that the narrator's quest to place Saul in this compromising position comes primarily from the previous association of Saul with prophetic activities in the earlier part of the book. Hence, the prophesying Saul ends up in a compromising position and, if the conclusion of Reis is right, he enters into a diabolic communion and covenant relationship with the world of the dead. In retrospect, while Saul was celebrated in the prophetic meal of 9.22–24, his last meal was prepared and served by a witch. Consequently, the meal in the house of a witch is in direct opposition to the prophetic meal which was served by the prophet Samuel at Saul's first appearance in the book. In this portrait, the parody of Saul is complete, because the representation of Saul at Endor has come full-circle—Saul, the prophet-like figure, is now compromised in witchcraft/divination.
On the other hand, Brian Britt has noted the semi-prophetic character of this passage. In his study of the ‘prophetic concealment in biblical narratives’, he observed that a prophetic typescene lies behind the representation of Saul at Endor. On this ‘prophetic concealment’ at Endor, Britt observed,
all the elements of the type scene are here: Saul seeks counsel from Samuel during a military crisis with the Philistines; in a kind of theophany (or at least hierophany), Samuel appears to Saul with the magical assistance of a witch; and Samuel is wrapped in his characteristic mantle (1 Sam. 15.27). Saul, too, is concealed, or at least disguised, at the time, a fact that leads to the witch's fear that Saul will catch them in this illegal act of necromancy. 54
Pushing this point to its logical end, Britt places the ‘prophetic type scene’ here in the same category as the scenes involving Moses in Exodus 32 and Elijah in 1 Kings 19, thereby associating Saul with the same prophetic pedigree as Moses and Elijah. Similarly, Britt notes the ‘humorous elements’ in the present text, particularly in the attribution of prophetic typescene to a person who is not a prophet but a king. 55 However, despite identifying the presence of a prophetic typescene, Britt fails to recognize the tacit prophethood of Saul in this text. This prophethood, even though ‘inverted’, is no doubt present, and hence makes the parody of Saul even more compelling.
Needless to say, the inversion of the prophetic typescene here and its attribution to Saul are noteworthy because the effect is largely to parody Saul as a former prophetic figure who is now in communion with witchcraft. 56 On this story level, the passage is intentionally crafted to show a parodic displacement of Saul's earlier representation. Even more striking, the textual location of Endor within the Davidic cycle of stories further accomplishes these polemic intentions. Like subsequent kings, whose legitimacy to rule is challenged by a reference to their participation in these banned cultic practices, a shadow of doubt is cast on Saul through this representation at Endor. Consequently, even at death, the ghost of Samuel comes mysteriously back to life, in order to authenticate the legitimacy of David, and to delegitimize Saul. Ironically, like Samuel himself in chs. 9 and 10, his ghost comes to dis-anoint Saul, and finally to announce the tragic end of his dynasty.
Saul and the Witch of Endor in the Context of the Deuteronomistic History
Writing from the exilic period, with its many theological/ideological problems, the Dtr clearly placed prophecy in opposition to witchcraft/divination by putting these institutions of ancient guidance in ideological tension. 57 This polarization is seen in Deuteronomy 18, where he placed prophecy and witchcraft/divination in parallel horizons (18.9-13 and 18.14-22). 58 The earlier division of prophecy and witchcraft/divination by the Dtr at the beginning of his work shows the importance that the Dtr attaches to these ancient institutions of guidance and the direct significance of these two horizons in his subsequent characterizations. 59 As a rule, the Dtr placed his characters within these parallel universes where the consultation of prophetic guidance is deemed appropriate and the consultation of witchcraft/divination is considered unacceptable. 60 Consistently, the Dtr refers to the practices of witchcraft/divination as part of the forbidden cultic practices which initially led to Yahweh's removal of the Canaanite inhabitants of the Promised Land. 61 Significantly, the Dtr observed, ‘Anyone who does these things is detestable to the Lord, and because of these detestable practices the Lord your God will drive out those nations before you’ (18.12). From this perspective, DtrH seeks to exonerate Yahweh from the charge of powerlessness in the face of the Babylonian and Assyrian defeats and the subsequent exiles. On this same baseline, the entire DtrH becomes a kind of fault-finding and blame-apportioning narrative which seeks to push the principal blame onto the various individuals or institutions within ancient Israel which brought about the demise of the nation and put in motion the process which finally led to the exile. 62 In other words, Polzin is here right that one central aim of the Dtr is primarily ‘to describe the causes of the exile… ‘ 63 For example, rather than blaming Yahweh, in describing the reason for the deportation of the northern kingdom in 2 Kgs 17.7–23, the Dtr places the blame squarely on the Israelites. In his graded morality, Dtr placed divination/witchcraft at the top of the lists of sins which he described as responsible for the exile. In this connection, Dtr observes, ‘They sacrificed their sons and daughters in the fire. They practiced divination and sorcery and sold themselves to do evil in the eyes of the Lord, provoking him to anger. So the Lord was very angry with Israel and removed them from his presence’ (2 Kgs 17.17–18). 64 For the Dtr, witchcraft/divination was the central reason for the exile of the northern kingdom. Through this description, the Dtr blamed the Israelites for the exiles. 65 Beyond this corporate identity, the Dtr also underscored the place of particular individuals who negatively contributed in bringing about the fall of the nation. 66 Remarkably, the association of individuals within his story with witchcraft/divination is done in order to accuse these individuals of initiating the processes that finally led to the exile. Thus, it is no surprise or accident that the first Israelite king within this DtrH is also identified with the forbidden institutions of witchcraft/divination. Defined within the Dtr's framework, Saul is not merely the rival of David, but a national villain or cultic embarrassment whose patronizing of witchcraft/divination makes him ‘detestable to Yahweh’. 67 From this perspective, through the identification of Saul with witchcraft, the Dtr indirectly indicts and implicated Saul because he now associates the first Israelite kingship with the crucial raison d'ětre for the exile.
Similarly, it is also important to note that Saul is the only king in the DtrH whose involvement in the forbidden practices of witchcraft/divination was described graphically. 68 This graphic description of Saul's involvement in witchcraft, which the DtrH usually reports with a passing remark or summarizes in one or two sentences, carries an added ideological importance for the Dtr. In this regard, ‘Saul, as Israel's first king, is singled out as a personification of kingship's sinfulness’. 69 Within this ideological template, the graphic description of Saul's visit to the witch of Endor provides the Dtr with a tool of characterization which not only indicts Saul, but points to the beginning of Israel's demise as a nation. This representation of Saul at Endor also ominously suggests that at the very start of Israel's kingship, one of the chief causes for the exile was already present. In other words, the representation of Saul at Endor points to the illegitimate cultic direction that many of Israel's kings will take in the future. 70 Consequently, beyond its immediate context in the succession struggle between the Saulides and the Davidic dynasty, the graphic story of the witch at the end of Saul's narratives appears to have further ideological importance for the Dtr.
This particular rereading of the importance of Endor accords well with the distinctive use of witchcraft/divination labelling in the other characterizations by the Dtr. Four persons in the entire DtrH were closely associated or directly identified with witchcraft/divination. These four individuals are Saul, Jezebel, Manasseh and Josiah. The Dtr connects Jezebel to witchcraft via Jehu's characterization of her: ‘And it came about, when Joram saw Jehu, that he said, “Is it peace, Jehu?” And he answered, “What peace, so long as the harlotries of your mother Jezebel and her witchcrafts are so many?”’ (2 Kgs 9.22). It appears Jehu here serves as the mouthpiece of the Dtr since, even though temporarily, Jehu, at this particular point of the narrative, represents the radical ideals of the Dtr who happily endorsed his anointing and his prophetic responsibility to exterminate the idolatrous family of Ahab. 71 It is also important to note that at each point in the execution carried out by Jehu, some pious Deuteronomistic speeches were attributed to him. 72 These speeches often centred on the fulfilment of God's words through Elisha and Elijah, which his executions help to bring about.
Similarly, witchcraft/divination was also employed in the characterization of Manasseh as a villain in DtrH. Concerning Manasseh, the Dtr observes, ‘And he made his son pass through the fire, practiced witchcraft and used divination, and dealt with mediums and spiritists. He did much evil in the sight of the Lord provoking him to anger’ (2 Kgs 21.6). He adds, ‘Manasseh led them astray, so that they did more evil than the nations the Lord had destroyed before the Israelites’ (v. 9). Through the identification of Manasseh with witchcraft/divination, the Dtr directly blames Manasseh and closely places Manasseh in the same literary and cultic mold as Saul. 73
On the other hand, Josiah, the great hero of the DtrH, receives praises from the Dtr because he disassociates himself from witchcraft/divination, and engages in religious reforms, which rid the Promised Land of these forbidden practices. 74 In the literary representation of Josiah in DtrH, he is conceived to embody directly the Dtr's repulsion for witchcraft/divination. Concerning the reformation of Josiah, the text reads,
Moreover, Josiah removed the witches and the wizards and the teraphim and the idols and all the abominations that were seen in the land of Judah and in Jerusalem, that he might confirm the words of the law which were written in the book that Hilkiah the priest found in the house of the Lord. (2 Kgs 23.24) 75
In this representation of Josiah, it also appears that Josiah not only walked in the ‘ways of David his father’ (2 Kgs 22.2), but he was also the antithesis of Saul. Though it is not within the scope of the present study to engage with the details of the possible thematic and literary parallels between Saul and Josiah, there are interesting parallels between these two characters that warrant some passing comments. Below are some of these parallels in tabulated form:
The thematic parallels between Saul and Josiah considered in isolation might appear coincidental; however the pivotal position of Saul as the first Israelite king, and of Josiah as the last righteous king from Judah, strengthen the possibility that these subtle parallels were intended by the Dtr. However, beyond this, the Dtr possibly connected Josiah with the removal of witchcraft from the land to further enhance his negative characterization of preceding characters whom he had already identified with witchcraft/divination. If this is correct, the representation of Saul at Endor is clearly the antithesis of Josiah's removal of witchcraft near to the end of the DtrH, thus placing Josiah and Saul in two binary poles of opposing representations. 80
Interestingly, too, the Chronicler also employed witchcraft/divination in his representation of some specific characters. Importantly, the Chronicler, in his ideological reconstruction of Israel's past, directly associated only two persons with witchcraft. The two individuals are Saul and Manasseh. Concerning Saul and witchcraft, the Chronicler observed, ‘So Saul died for his trespass which he committed against the Lord, because of the word of the Lord which he did not keep; and also because he asked counsel of a witch, making inquiry of it…’ (1 Chron. 10.13). Regarding Manasseh, the Chronicler said, ‘And he made his sons pass through the fire in the Valley of Ben-hinnom; and he practiced witchcraft, used divination, practiced sorcery, and dealt with mediums and spiritists. He did much evil in the sight of the Lord, provoking him to anger' (2 Chron. 33.6). It is quite interesting that both the Dtr and the Chronicler associated Saul with witchcraft, and subtly connected Saul to the two legendary villains of the Hebrew Bible, namely, Jezebel and Manasseh. 81 In these representations, the Dtr, for example, polemically places Saul on the same pedestal as Jezebel and Manasseh. As already suggested in the preceding parallels between Saul and Josiah, the Dtr did not only conceive of Saul as a villain but he portrayed him as the direct antithesis of King Josiah.
In addition, by his identification of Saul, Jezebel and Manasseh with witchcraft, the Dtr indirectly indicts Saul and provides perhaps a subtle ideological basis for the subsequent eviction of Israelites from the Promised Land. Within the bigger picture, however, Saul is not merely a villain on the same level with Jezebel and Manasseh, but a super-villain because his visit to the witch of Endor is the only graphic description of witchcraft/divination consultation in DtrH. From this perspective, even Jezebel's legendry involvement in witchcraft is merely reported by a character within the text, and does not carry the theological importance or the ideological weight of the graphic visit of Saul to the witch in 1 Samuel 28. Similarly, even the worst cultic practices of witchcraft/divination by Manasseh were merely reported by the narrator, without the added presence of dialogue, intrigue, suspense or mystery that characterized the representation of Saul at Endor, thus showing the significance of this particular representation.
To achieve this representation of Saul at Endor, the Dtr ignored the moral and theological problems which the witch's pericope raises for his postexilic readers. Jephthah's sacrifice of his daughter exhibits a similar strategy: there, the Dtr suspends his immediate displeasure of human sacrifice in pursuit of a higher ideological goal. Similarly, the Dtr also ignored here the immediate theological problems that come from the summoning of Yahweh's prophets by means of witchcraft in order to pursue an ideological goal. For the Dtr, one of the important ideological purposes of Saul's representation at Endor is to show that in Saul the history of Israelites' kingship was already chequered with the same forbidden cultic practices which later led to the captivity of the nation. On this story level, his overriding objective expresses itself partly in the parodic displacement of the earlier prophetic representation of Saul by a negative one. However, on the discourse level, the Dtr not only mocks Saul, but turns him into a villain who, whatever the validity of the prophetic traditions attributed to him, began the cultic process which eventually characterized other villains of DtrH. Thus, the witch's episode, from the perspective of the DtrH, is not merely a parody of Saul, but becomes a harbinger of many worse things to come.
Conclusion
Judging from the foregoing, the representation of Saul at Endor becomes a ‘fitting climax’ to the earlier prophetic representation of Saul in 1 Samuel 9–10. 82 Through parody, the earlier representation of Saul as a prophet is intentionally subverted by his identification with witchcraft at Endor. In addition, the representation of Saul at Endor implicates Saul in forbidden cultic practices which are closely associated with other villains of DtrH. Thus, Endor pushes Saul into the ‘cults of villains’ who are repeatedly blamed for the exile.
Unfortunately, the representation of Saul at Endor has rarely received proper attention, especially in defining its importance in DtrH. Needless to say, the studies of succession narratives and the endless quest to uncover the polemics between the Saulides and the Davidic dynasty have often imposed their agenda on the witch's pericope so that we normally do not see the full significance of this unique pericope in DtrH. However, the importance of this pericope moves beyond its immediate rhetoric of succession or polemics, to suggest clearly that Endor foreshadows involvement in forbidden cultic practices, which subsequently led to the exile. Hence, at the very start of Israelite kingship, witchcraft/divination is directly connected to Israel's kingship. Accordingly, through Endor, ancient Israel saw a glimpse of its entire history and the particular forbidden cultic practices that will finally bring about its later demise. Within this same frame, the witch of Endor becomes a portent for Israel's precarious cultic history, and eventually reveals the fixed path which Israel's kingship will generally take. From this standpoint, the odd description of the prophet and the witch in the same strange scene also points symbolically to the same syncretic and compromising character of Israel's kingship in the future. Certainly, from the perspective of the Dtr, the history of Israel's kingship becomes a compromising blend of legitimate and illegitimate cultic practices which were reflected temporarily in the fusion of prophetism and witchcraft/divination at Endor. On this basis, Endor ceases to be marginal to the thought of Dtr because it provides clarity to the puzzle of Dtr's other characterizations. As should be immediately evident, this reading of Saul's representation at Endor moves Saul from the background of Davidic narratives to the centrality of Dtr's characterizations. It also liberates Saul from the literary imprisonment to the immediate polemics of Davidic narratives, and shows the larger function of Endor in the context of DtrH. Consequently, through this reading of Endor, one would have to agree with Gunn's apt conclusion that ‘Saul, therefore, is kingship's scapegoat’, or even better, a prototype for kingship's failure. 83 Thus, within this narrative mapping, it becomes ironically clear that the tragic memory of Saul, like the ghost of Samuel, continues to haunt the exiles, and their reconstruction of the past.
Footnotes
1.
This particular pericope is the closest we have in the biblical narrative to the descent to the underworld by a character/hero in ancient texts. For the treatment of this pericope along this theme of underworld, see Robert Couffignal, ‘Le Roi, le Prophète et la nécromancie’, ZAW 121 (2009), pp. 19–30. In contrast to these ancient stories of descents, Saul opted for the mediation and services of a witch/diviner, instead of embarking on the journey himself. It is possible that this modified representation of Saul points to the tragic failure of Saul as a hero in 1 Samuel. On the other hand, it is also possible to understand this particular pericope in terms of the Greek ghost-questioning rite known as ‘Nekyia’ whereby a ghost is brought up from the dead and asked about the future; see Klaus-Peter Adam, ‘1 Sam 28: A Comment on Saul's Destiny from Late Prophetic Point of View’, RB 116 (2009), pp. 27–43.
2.
The characterization of this pericope explores further distinctive representation such as the presence of a ‘talking ghost’. In particular, the element of a talking ghost within the passage shares clearly the same narrative template with the talking serpent, talking donkey and talking trees of Jotham and Jehoash's fables in Judg. 9.7–15; 2 Kgs 14.9. (For the preceding representations and their importance, see George Savran, ‘Beastly Speech: Intertextuality, Balaam's Ass and the Garden of Eden’, JSOT 64 [1994], pp. 33–55; Ulrike Sals, ‘The Hybrid Story of Balaam [Numbers 22–24]: Theology for the Diaspora in the Torah’, BibInt 16 [2008], pp. 315–35; Karin Schöpflin, ‘Jotham's Speech and Fable as Prophetic Comment on Abimelech's Story’, SJOT 18 [2004], pp. 3–20. See also G.S. Ogden, ‘Jotham's Fable: Its Structure and Function in Judges 9’, BT 46 [1995], pp. 301–308). However, while these preceding passages explore the animal and plant domains to carry out its characterization, this passage explores uniquely the realm of the dead.
3.
In addition, there are other odd characterizations within this pericope. For example, the witch is called בוא־חלעב in 1 Sam. 28.7. Translating this term, Kyle McCarter and Graeme Auld have differently rendered this phrase as the ‘ghostwife’ and the ‘bottle-mistress’, respectively; see P. Kyle McCarter Jr, I Samuel: A New Translation with Introduction, Notes and Commentary (AB, 8; New York: Doubleday, 1980), pp. 420, 422–23; A. Graeme Auld, I & II Samuel: A Commentary (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 2011), pp. 326–27. The phrase probably suggests a professional or a consultant rather than the marriage/sexual connotation implied by both ‘ghostwife’ and ‘bottle-mistress’. Also problematic, the ghost is strangely called םיהלא in 1 Sam. 28.13. This usage possibly suggests a superhuman conception of the dead.
4.
See K.A.D. Smelik, ‘The Witch of Endor: 1 Samuel 28 in Rabbinic and Christian Exegesis till 800 A.D.’, Vigiliae Christianae 33 (1979), pp. 160–79 (166). For some important descriptions of ancient Israelite's underworld, see Saul M. Olyan, ‘Some Neglected Aspects of Israelite Interment Ideology’, JBL 124 (2005), pp. 601–16; Philip S. Johnston, Shades of Sheol: Death and Afterlife in the Old Testament (Leicester: Apollos, 2002); Dominic Rudman, ‘The Use of Water Imagery in Description of Sheol’, ZAW 113 (2001), pp. 240–44. See also Christopher B. Hays, ‘Chirps from the Dust: The Affliction of Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel 4.30 in its Ancient Near Eastern Context’, JBL 126 (2007), pp. 305–25.
5.
Noting the importance of the ghost, for example, as the highpoint in Saul's characterization at Endor, Walter Brueggemann rightly observed, ‘Everything in Saul's career has been enacted under the aegis of this irrevocable decision of the ghost’. However, Brueggemann fails to show the intersection between Saul's prophetic introduction and his later presence at Endor. See Brueggemann, First and Second Samuel (Interpretation; Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1990), 195.
6.
Anne M. Kitz has questioned the validity of this polarity and has generally treated the differences between divination and prophecy in terms of ‘continuum’. For this treatment of prophecy and divination as one and the same category, see Kitz, ‘Prophecy as Divination’, CBQ 65 (2003), pp. 22–42. See also Tzvi Abusch, Mesopotamian Witchcraft: Toward a History and Understanding of Babylonian Witchcraft Beliefs and Literature (Ancient Magic and Divination, 5; Leiden: E.J. Brill/Styx, 2002).
7.
The enigmatic representation of Saul at Endor has led to ideological discourses in the interpretative history of this pericope. Generally speaking, there is within these post-biblical Jewish and Christian interpreters the obvious quest to smooth or gloss away the problematic characterization of the witch's pericope in 1 Samuel. On these interpretative discourses see Rowan A. Greer and Margaret M. Mitchell (eds.), The ‘Belly-Myther’ of Endor: Interpretations of 1 Kingdoms 28 in the Early Church (SBL Writings from the Greco-Roman World, 16; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2007); Patricia Cox Miller, ‘Origen and the Witch of Endor: Toward an Iconoclastic Typology’, in her The Poetry of Thought in Late Antiquity: Essays in Imagination and Religion (Aldershot: Variorum, 2001), pp. 199–210.
8.
It is also possible to read the tension between these representations of Saul as a product of post-Dtr or even anti-Dtr redactor. However, this way of reading the Saul narratives will need to explain convincingly the intent or ideology which necessitates these conflicting representations or their later insertion by an anti-Dtr or post-Dtr's hand. For this anti-Dtr's reading of the DtrH, see Serge Frolov, ‘Succession Narrative: A “Document” or a Phantom’, JBL 121 (2002), pp. 81–104. See also Richard Nelson, ‘The Double Redaction of the DtrH: The Case is Still Compelling’, JSOT 29 (2005), pp. 319–37. This particular way of reading the different representations quickly tends to explain away the tension or conflict without adequately allowing the possibility for stylistic techniques from the original hand of the Dtr. For the possibility of conflicting representations as stylistic, see J. Daniel Hays, ‘Has the Narrator Come to Praise Solomon or to Bury Him? Narrative Subtlety in 1 Kings 1–11’, JSOT 28 (2003), pp. 149–74.
9.
For example, Beuken merely treated 1 Sam. 28 as the final ‘fulfillment of earlier prophecy'; see W.A.M. Beuken, ‘1 Samuel 28: The Prophet as “Hammer of Witches”’, JSOT 6 (1978), pp. 3–17 (5). On the other hand, Humphreys primarily saw in the witch's pericope the sad end of Saul at the hand of a savaged god, which tragically culminates the earlier capricious dealings of Yahweh with Saul; see W. Lee Humphreys, ‘From Tragic Hero to Villain: A Study of the Figure of Saul and the Development of 1 Samuel’, JSOT 22 (1982), pp. 97–109. In addition, Gordon, in passing, notes the ‘résumé of previous condemnations of Saul’ in the witch's pericope which echoed directly ‘Samuel's second denunciation’ of Saul at Gilgal in ch. 13 (Robert P. Gordon, I & II Samuel: A Commentary [Grand Rapids, MI: Regency, 1988], p. 196). Similarly, McCarter has observed that while the ghost's speeches on the Amalekite campaign ‘allude directly to the story of the rejection of Saul’ in 15.1–34, the ghost and his speeches are, however, ‘entirely superfluous and out of place here…’ According to him, the presence of the Amalekite campaign in the speeches of the ghost is ‘a kind of praeparatio before the account of David's punishment of the Amalekites’ in chs. 29–30 (McCarter, I Samuel, pp. 421, 422). For Hertzberg, Saul's ‘recourse to the “witch of Endor”’ clearly justifies his earlier rejection, and directly shows ‘the penultimate act of a man… who now meets his deserts’ (Hans W. Hertzberg, I & II Samuel: A Commentary [trans. J.S. Bowden; OTL; London: SCM Press, 1964], p. 220).
10.
See Auld, I & II Samuel, p. 327.
11.
Auld, I & II Samuel, p. 328.
12.
Robert Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist: A Literary Study of the Deuteronomic History (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1989), p. 220.
13.
Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist, p. 217. Further describing Saul's entire life against the web of this particular characterization at Endor, Polzin observed, ‘Saul's gradual descent into sorcery and divination’ is ‘a movement first recognized in the ritual baggage among which’ he hides ‘fruitlessly’. He continues: ‘His oath of fasting, his frustrated efforts to inquire of the L
14.
Reading the whole of 1 Samuel as a royal parable, Polzin also understood the incident at Endor in this perspective. For example, concerning the apparition of Samuel at Endor and the sighting of Samuel's cloth by the witch, he notes, ‘In this shadowy outline the reader sees an outline of the entire book of 1 Samuel: Samuel's birth and death encompass the book and express its central topic, the birth and death of kingship in Israel. Nothing clothes Samuel and Saul alike in kingship better than the robes they wear throughout the book’. See Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist, p. 218.
15.
Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist, p. 221.
16.
This particular description of Babylon as a witch bears similarity also to the common symbolic representation of Babylon as a prostitute. For the representation of Babylon as a prostitute, see Jennifer A. Glancy and Stephen D. Moore, ‘How Typical a Roman Is Revelation's “Great Whore”?’, JBL 130 (2011), pp. 551–69.
17.
The parabolic reading of the DtrH has yielded interesting insights and had shown the inner working of the Dtr's thought. For example, Mark E. Biddle has treated the representation of Nabal in 1 Sam. 25 as a parabolic representation of King Saul. He also suggested that Saul and Laban shared certain intertextual parallels. See Mark E. Biddle, ‘Ancestral Motifs in 1 Samuel 25: Intertextuality and Characterization’, JBL 121 (2002), pp. 617–38.
18.
This particular vilification of Saul appears to have elicited reactions from a pro-Saulide audience in exile. For instance, the post-exilic author of Esther presents a sympathetic representation of the Saulides. He describes the heroine ‘Esther’, as another ‘Saul’, who shared some analogical parallels to the Saul of 1 Samuel. On the study of these parallels, see Yitzhak Berger, ‘Esther and Benjaminite Royalty: A Study in Inner-Biblical Allusion’, JBL 129 (2010), pp. 625–44.
19.
See Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist, p. 72. See also J.P. Fokkelman, Narrative Art and Poetry in the Books of Samuel. II. The Crossing Fates (I Sam. 13–31 & II Sam. 1) (trans. L. Waaning-Wardle; Assen: Van Gorcum, 1986).
20.
In biblical narratives, literary and thematic parallels are often concealed, thus it largely depends on the reader to make evident these connections and allusions. In this way, ‘whether hidden or obvious, recognition and creation of the underlying connections and contrasts between the narratives are up to the reader’. See Hava Shalom-Guy, ‘Three-Way Intertextuality: Some Reflections of Abimelech's Death at Thebez in Biblical Narrative’, JSOT 34 (2010), pp. 419–32 (420).
21.
In locating parallels, a methodological criterion is the density of similarities which the two categories under analogy clearly share. Concerning this criterion, Yitzhak Berger observed, ‘an especially dense cluster of similarities might prove decisive even where each of them, taken individually, could otherwise have been seen as coincidental: the larger the number of moderately suggestive parallels, the more compelling they become when considered together’. See Yitzhak Berger, ‘Ruth and Inner-Biblical Allusion: The Case of 1 Samuel 25’, JBL 128 (2009), pp. 253–72 (254).
22.
The tabulated parallels above followed the constancy criteria of analogy by Paul Noble, rather than the dynamic analogy of Jonathan Grossman. For Noble, to establish analogy or parallel between different characters, one should strictly strive to show constancy in the description of characteristics or aspects shared by the characters under analogy (see Paul Noble, ‘Esau, Tamar, and Joseph: Criteria for Identifying Inner-Biblical Allusion’, VT 52 [2002], pp. 219–52). On the other hand, Grossman suggests the possibility of different aspects or features of a character being shared or seen in several other characters (see Jonathan Grossman, ‘“Dynamic Analogies” in the Book of Esther’, VT 59 [2009], pp. 394–414). The present study seeks primarily to follow the criteria of constancy by Noble in the quest to see the shared similarities and differences between the earlier and later presentation of Saul.
23.
See Auld, I & II Samuel, p. 327.
24.
See Gordon, I & II Samuel, p. 196; Schipper, ‘“Significant Resonances”’, p. 525.
25.
In identifying Saul in v. 12, the witch also echoes this same root. Similarly, the name of Samuel too comes from this same root. Auld notes the puns on Samuel, the ‘asked-for’ son, and Saul, the ‘asked-for’ king at the beginning of 1 Samuel. He also underscores the ‘nicely ambiguous’ utterance of Saul's name by the witch in the context of this pun (v. 12). See Auld, I & II Samuel, p. 328.
26.
Similarly, the presence of הכלממה in the speech of the ghost (28.17) recalls also the presence of the same word in Samuel's former speeches (cf. 10.18; 13.13–14), especially in 13.13–14 where it also occurs in the context of Saul's rejection.
27.
On the similarities between Saul and Eliab, Bodner observes that ‘the inevitable comparisons between Eliab and Saul (height, good looks and divine rejection) make it tempting for exegetes to understand Eliab as a second Saul’. See Keith Bodner, ‘Eliab and the Deuteronomist’, JSOT 28 (2003), pp. 55–71 (60).
28.
Against the general treatment of Saul as disobedient in 1 Sam. 13–15, Sellars has generally treated Saul as an obedient king particularly in the light of his obsessive quest to please or heed to the ‘voice’ (לוק) of the people. For Sellars, this quest to please the people is in contrast to the oppressive representation of the monarch by prophet Samuel in ch. 8. See Dawn M. Sellars, ‘An Obedient Servant? The Reign of King Saul (1 Samuel 13–15) Reassessed’, JSOT 35 (2011), pp. 317–38.
29.
See Auld, I & II Samuel, p. 329.
30.
Jacobs underscores the importance of the speech of these women particularly in the context of the chiastic structure between chs. 9 and 10. Jacobs observed that their speech ‘is the longest verse in the chapter and one of the longest in Samuel. The narrator puts a total of forty-four words in the mouths of the girls, all in response to a three-word question!’ See Jonathan Jacobs, ‘The Role of the Secondary Characters in the Story of the Anointing of Saul (I Samuel ix–x)’, VT 58 (2008), pp. 495–509 (497).
31.
Polzin describes the ‘garrulous response’ of these women. He also notes that their speech was ‘packed with predictive information clothed in typical prophetic rhetoric…’ See Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist, p. 93.
32.
For the different discussions on the traditions behind the meeting of Samuel and Saul here, see M. Garsiel, The First Book of Samuel: A Literary Study of Comparative Structures, Analogies and Parallels (Ramat-Gan: Revivim Publishing House, 1985); Bruce C. Birch, ‘The Development of the Tradition on the Anointing of Saul in I Sam ix 1–x 16’, JBL 90 (1971), pp. 58–60; J. Maxwell Miller, ‘Saul's Rise to Power: Some Observations Concerning 1 Sam 9.1–10.16, 10.26-11.15, and 13.2–14.46’, CBQ 36 (1974), pp. 157–74; R.W. Klein, 1 Samuel (WBC, 10; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1983).
33.
In the use of the combined motifs of ‘disguise’ and ‘inquiry’ of Yahweh in 1 Kgs 22.5, 30, Auld suggests Ahab probably is ‘another… literary model for Saul'; see Auld, I & II Samuel, p. 327. Auld also suggests that ‘Saul's anointing anticipates that of Jehu’, and his earlier association with prophets is paralled to ‘Ahab’ (p. 113).
34.
Similarly, several derivations from the root האד also appeared in the earlier introduction of Saul (see 9.9, 11, 16, 17, 18, 19; cf. 10.24), and the same word appeared in the witch's pericope in 28.5, 12, 13, 21. The presence of distinction between, ordinary and prophetic sights (האד) are indeed important in these two pericopes, especially in the light of the narrator's comment of 9.9, which seeks to connect directly a seer (האד), or ‘the one who sees’, to a prophet (איבנ).
35.
Klein observes that ‘The effectiveness attributed to the man of God's word in v 6 calls to mind the characteristics of a true prophet (Deut 13.1-3; 18.21–22)’ (Klein, 1 Samuel, p. 84).
36.
See Jacobs, ‘The Role of the Secondary Characters’, p. 497.
37.
The presence of Saul's inquiring about the future also occurred briefly in 14.18 and 14.36–41. In contrast to this brief reference, a total of two chapters (9 and 10) was devoted to the reportage of the first consultation of Samuel by Saul, and ch. 28 is entirely devoted to his consultation of the witch.
38.
Brueggemann describes the ‘the meal’ as ‘a pitiful scene’ which is ‘a kind of last supper’, that is, ‘one final meal fit for a king (cf. 25.36) who will not be a king much longer’ (First and Second Samuel, p. 196).
39.
Auld, I & II Samuel, p. 328.
40.
Klein has noted the influence of the prophetic ‘call form’, which is commonly associated with Moses, Gideon and several other prophets, on the first pericope. This is especially evident in the elements of the call narrative: ‘1) Divine confrontation, 9.15; 2) An Introductory Word, 9.16–17; 3) Commission, 10.1, cf. 9.20b; 4) Objection, 9.21; 5) Reassurance, 10.7b; 6) Sign, 10: lb 5–7a’. This observation by Klein further underlines the prophetic characterization of Saul within this first appearance. See Klein, 1 Samuel, p. 84.
41.
See Klein, 1 Samuel, pp. 88–89.
42.
Auld, I & II Samuel, p. 329.
43.
Auld, I & II Samuel, p. 329.
44.
Margaret A. Rose, Parody: Ancient, Modern, and Post-Modern (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), p. 51.
45.
Amit, Hidden Polemics in Biblical Narrative, p. 173.
46.
Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist, p. 102.
47.
John A. Miles Jr, ‘Laughing at the Bible: Jonah as Parody’, JQR 65.3 (1975), pp. 168–81 (170).
48.
Seymour Chatman, ‘Parody and Style’, Poetics Today 22 (2001), pp. 25–39 (33).
49.
Chatman, ‘Parody and Style’, p. 33.
50.
Pamela T. Reis, ‘Eating the Blood: Saul and the Witch of Endor’, JSOT 73 (1997), pp. 3–23.
51.
The motif of clothing is important in the David and Saul's narratives. For the treatment of this important motif especially in terms of Saul's clothing, its removal and abuse, see Ora Horn Prousner, ‘Suited to the Throne: The Symbolic Use of Clothing in David and Saul Narratives’, JSOT 77 (1996), pp. 27–37. See also Richard Coggins, ‘On Kings and Disguises’, JSOT 50 (1991), pp. 55–62.
52.
Reis, ‘Eating the Blood’.
53.
Reis, ‘Eating the Blood’, p. 17.
54.
Brian Britt, ‘Prophetic Concealment in a Biblical Type Scene’, CBQ 64 (2002), pp. 37–58 (53).
55.
Britt, ‘Prophetic Concealment’, p. 54.
56.
This reading of Endor by Britt in terms of prophetic representation also corroborates the work of Klein, who treats the prophetic representation in chs. 9 and 10 under the category of ‘prophetic call’ narrative. These two studies already suggest that Saul's representations at his anointing and at Endor both explore prophetic characterizations. See Klein, 1 Samuel, p. 84.
57.
For the descriptions of the various ideological issues in the study of the Dtr's thought, see Robert Polzin, David and the Deuteronomist: A Literary Study of the Deuteronomic History. 2 Samuel (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1993); L.S. Schearing and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), Those Elusive Deuteronomists: The Phenomenon of Pan-Deuteronomism (JSOTSup, 268; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999); R.F. Person, The Deuteronomic School: History, Social Setting, and Literature (Studies in Biblical Literature, 2; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 2002); K.L. Noll, ‘DtrH or Deuteronomic Debate? (A Thought Experiment)’, JSOT 31 (2007), pp. 311–45.
58.
There is continuous debate on the relationship between Deuteronomy and the DtrH. On the difference between Deuteronomy and DtrH, see Gary N. Knoppers, ‘Rethinking the Relationship between Deuteronomy and the DtrH: The Case of Kings’, CBQ 63 (2002), pp. 393–415.
59.
Polzin has observed the cultic tension between these religious practices when he comments that even though ‘foreign practices of divination’ are ‘forbidden to Israelites’, they ‘had a Yahwistic counterpart in the consultation of Yahweh through the prophets’. See Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist, p. 270.
60.
Mullen speaks of the ‘ideal boundaries’ in the DtrH that constitutes partly ‘symbolic “frames” within which the history of Israel as a “nation” was presented'; see E. Theodore Mullen Jr, Narrative History and Ethnic Boundaries: The Deuteronomistic Historian and the Creation of Israelite National Identity (SBLSS, 24; Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press, 1993).
61.
See Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist, p. 220.
62.
The Dtr, for example, blamed Jeroboam for the fall of the Northern Kingdom. On this thought see Mark Leuchter, ‘Jeroboam the Ephratite’, JBL 125 (2006), pp. 51–72 (51).
63.
Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist, p. 72.
64.
There are pertinent ideological/theological concerns in the framing of DtrH. For these imposing concerns in the composition of DtrH, see A.F. Campbell and M. O'Brien, Unfolding the Deuteronomistic History (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2000); Thomas Römer, The So-Called Deuteronomistic History: A Sociological, Historical and Literary Introduction (London: T&T Clark International, 2005).
65.
In this respect, Watts also observed, ‘The postexilic community in Jerusalem had internalized both corporate guilt and individual responsibility by accepting the prophetic judgment that the kingdoms’ disastrous histories were punishment for the people's sins’. See James W. Watts, ‘Aaron and the Golden Calf in the Rhetoric of the Pentateuch’, JBL 130 (2011), pp. 417–30 (428).
66.
See also L.L. Grabbe (ed.), Good Kings and Bad Kings (LHBOTS, 393; London: T&T Clark International, 2005).
67.
Noting the difference between the Priestly holiness code and the Dtr's conception of holiness, Regev observed, ‘Instead of impurity we find in Deuteronomy “an abomination”, toʾebah, that is, intolerable filth, both physically repulsive and morally disgraceful’. According to Regev, there are 16 categories of morally repulsive and disgraceful acts which the Dtr considered ‘abominations’, and at the top of these moral prohibitions are idolatry, the Molech cult, witchcraft and magic. In particular, this classification placed the representation of Saul at Endor at the top of the morally reprehensible acts from the point of view of the Dtr. For the entire list of these ‘abominable practices’, see Eyal Regev, ‘Priestly Dynamic Holiness and Deuteronomic Static Holiness’, VT 51 (2001), pp. 243–61.
68.
Apart from graphic nature of the scene, the uniqueness of this association of Saul with witchcraft could be seen in the particular use of the term בואכ. The term בואכ, or ‘familiar spirit’, occurs only twice in
69.
Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist, p. 104.
70.
This defining representation of Saul comes largely from the biblical scribal practices whereby ‘appropriate episodes are fashioned to include elements that are preparatory and precedential to issues and circumstances of particular importance in the historical experience and cognizance of Israel’. See Kallai, ‘Some Scribal Conventions in Biblical Narrative’, p. 46.
71.
At critical points in biblical narratives, characters often voice explicit moral evaluations of fellow characters. To determine the validity of these explicit moral evaluations one has to compare the statement in question with the other characterizations of the same character. For a study of explicit moral evaluations by biblical characters, see Amos Frisch, ‘“Your Brother Came with Guile”: Responses to an Explicit Moral Evaluation in Biblical Narrative’, Prooftexts 23 (2003), pp. 271–96.
72.
For example, see the flashback through the speeches of Jehu to the prophecies of Elisha and Elijah in the gruesome execution of Ahaziah, Jezebel, Ahab's family and the priests of Baal in 2 Kgs 9.25–26, 36–37; 10.10–11, 30. On these executions of Jehu, see Michael S. Moore, ‘Jehu's Coronation and Purge of Israel’, VT 53 (2003), pp. 97–114.
73.
Connecting Manasseh to Saul by the representation of both characters’ involvement in witchcraft/divination, Auld observes that at the end of 2 Kgs 21.1-18 there is an elaborate suggestion in DtrH which ‘blames Manasseh for the collapse of Jerusalem and the end of the Davidic line of which he was a part, so too Saul's desperate flirtation with divination and necromancy… brings his royal house to an even more immediate end’ (Auld, I & II Samuel, p. 325).
74.
Even though Richard Nelson has noted with fair justification that the Dtr is not a ‘crude propagandist for Josiah’, nonetheless he also concedes that the literary representation of Josiah fundamentally influenced the representation of Joshua. For Nelson, Josiah is ‘the apex of the theme of obedience’ in DtrH. See Nelson, ‘The Double Redaction of the DtrH’, pp. 325, 327. Similarly, Martin A. Sweeney has engaged the messianic indicators in the representation of King Josiah. See Marvin A. Sweeney, King Josiah of Judah: The Lost Messiah of Israel (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001); see also Mark Leuchter, Josiah's Reform and Jeremiah's Scroll: Historical Calamity and Prophetic Response (HBM, 6; Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press, 2006).
75.
The representation of King Josiah has received particular attention in the study of DtrH. For the study of King Josiah's reformation, see W. Boyd Barrick, The King and the Cemeteries: Toward a New Understanding of Josiah's Reform (VTSup, 88; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2002).
76.
Nelson has underscored the importance of the Huldah's prophecy in the double redaction of the DtrH. On this study, see Nelson, ‘The Double Redaction of the DtrH’, pp. 319–37. See also D.A. Glatt-Gilad, ‘The Role of Huldah's Prophecy in the Chronicler's Portrayal of Josiah's Reform’, Bib 77 (1996), pp. 16–31; Susan Ackerman, ‘Why Is Miriam Also among the Prophets? (And Is Zipporah among the Priests?)’, JBL 121 (2002), pp. 47–80.
77.
On the Asherah problem, see Baruch Margalit, ‘The Meaning and Significance of Asherah’, VT 40 3 (1990), pp. 264–97.
78.
The word עדק also appeared in the description of the tearing of the kingdom from David by prophet Ahijah (1 Kgs 11.11–13, 30). Leuchter notes particularly the interesting wordplay on the name of ‘Solomon’ (המֹלֹשְׁ) and the ‘cloak’ (המָלְשַֹ); see Leuchter, ‘Jeroboam the Ephratite’, pp. 53–59.
79.
Similarly, Huldah's prophecy generally shows great respect for the person of Josiah, while the ghost of Samuel appears to be disrespectful to Saul.
80.
In addition, it appears the representation of Saul at Endor is also used as a literary model in the representations of Jeroboam and Ahab. For example, the end of Jeroboam's reign in 1 Kgs 14.1–18 and Ahab in 1 Kgs 22.1-40 bears similarities with the representation of Saul at Endor in terms of consultation of prophet/seer/witch, disguise, harsh prophetic sentence, and notice of death. Even though it is beyond the immediate scope of the present study to pursue the connection between these characters, it is possible that there lies a typescene behind the representations of these key villains within DtrH. On the presence of typescenes in biblical narratives, see Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York: Basic Books, 1981), pp. 47–62.
81.
On the other hand, it is also interesting that within this same DtrH, Jezebel is also connected with a prophetic tradition especially as seen in the prophets who ate daily at her table. On the motif of food and eating in Jezebel narrative, see D.A. Appler, ‘From Queen to Cuisine: Food Imagery in the Jezebel Narrative’, Semeia 86 (1999), pp. 55–71.
82.
Polzin, Samuel and the Deuteronomist, p. 270.
83.
David Gunn, The Fate of King Saul: An Interpretation of a Biblical Story (JSOTSup, 14; Sheffield: Almond Press, 1980), p. 125.