1 Samuel 28:1-25 · Saul and the Witch of Endor
The Witch of Endor
1 Samuel 28:1-25
Sermon
by Warren Thomas Smith
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We have been thrilled and enchanted by the weird conversation of the three sisters on the gloomy heath in ancient Scotland:

When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightening, or in rain?
When the hurlyburly’s done,
When the battle’s lost and won,
That will be ere the set of sun.
Where the place?
Upon the heath
There to meet with Macbeth.1

Later in the play we have the incantation and recipe for the brew which will cast a spell over the Scottish Thane:

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches’ mummy, maw and gulf

Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg’d i’ the dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat and slips of yew

Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse,
Nose of Turk and Tarter’s lips,
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver’d by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab:

Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.2

Shakespeare has given us a glimpse into the soul of medieval Europe. History has witnessed many tragic mistakes, but few as grievous as belief in witchcraft. One of mankind’s oldest superstitions is the demon-possessed witch. She or he - a man was usually called a warlock - was one with whom honorable people refused to associate.

Generally abnormal, the witch was not permitted to live in the community. Taboos were placed on her. She was in league with malignant powers, hence connotations of midnight revels, black cats, bats, evil spirits, living-dead, magic potions, witch Sabbats. Years ago a group of pastors made their way through the Congo. It was early morning, the season of winter rains. As the party stopped to cook breakfast at a waterfall, they noticed an old creature crouched under a ledge. Her body was covered with disease. She was starving. She was a witch put out of the tribe. Her husband and three sons had all died within months. It was decided she had cast an evil spell over her family, so she was driven from her village.

Society has taken this merciless attitude toward the witch since the time of the pyramids of Gizeh. Witchcraft was forbidden by Mosaic law, "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live." (Exodus 22:18) In Leviticus we find, "A man also or woman ... that is a wizard ... they shall stone them with stones ..." (20:27) Even the more humane Deuteronomy declared, "There shall not be found among you any one ... that useth divination ..." (18:10) John of Damascus preached on "Concerning Dragons and Witches." In A.D. 799, the Synod of Reisbach denounced witchcraft. The Spanish Inquisition burned witches as the auto-da-fe became an institution. In Europe and colonial America, swift and rigid retribution pursued witches: burnings, crushings, hangings, and especially drownings. The thumb screw and rack exacted confessions; testimonies of demented folk and mischievous children were used as evidence. Salem’s infamous witch trials remain a shameful blot on American history; on August 19, 1692 a minister and five women were executed for witchcraft. As late as 1860, in Camargo, Mexico, a witch and her son were burned.

ENDOR

Saul had put mediums and wizards out of the land, much to the joy of religious leaders. Years passed, and Saul was nearing his end. In despair, he longed for advice from the deceased Samuel - old critic and friend who could bring a word from God. When Saul asked for a surviving witch, he was told one remained at Endor, a small town six miles southeast of Nazareth. Taking two men, Saul trekked to the forbidding lair in disguise.

Picture the scene: darkness was broken by a small fire in the damp cave. The king asked the astonished woman to call up a spirit. She refused, "... thou knowest what Saul hath done ..." Saul allayed her fears, and she began her ritual, saying she saw "... gods ascending out of the earth." In a few moments, the shade of Samuel spoke from the realm of the dead, informing the king his death by the Philistines was imminent. Saul fainted at the news.

During the seance, the witch had cringed in a corner. Once having served her purpose, she had been relegated to the shadows. Who is this Witch of Endor? She is a freak of nature and society. We do not have a benign old lady unjustly avoided by her peers. She is a withered, demented hag. We do not want her as a babysitter. She is repulsive; she makes us nervous. We can’t blame her for taking refuge in a cave. Shadows hide her ugliness, and winds do not mock her strange speech.

TODAY’S WITCH

What about that segment of our society which refuses to conform? What of counterculture? Whatever the area: mental, physical, sexual, spiritual - if they differ from the norm, they are suspect. The stigma of witch is still applied.

A handsome young man, a robust athlete, talked with a minister. Sweat poured down the youth’s face as in a frenzied torrent of words he told of his living hell. Suicide seemed the only way out, "You understand, I don’t want your help or your prayers. Why won’t the world leave me alone?" He claimed that God made him homosexual, and now society was out to get him.

A youth was incarcerated for use of drugs. He wrote his pastor, "I have faith - both in God and man, and in myself - and I have tried to keep that faith even here in this place. I am no longer afraid of what people will say, or have said. After all, who are people?"

Witchcraft is on the increase. It ranges from the traditional covens - thirteen witches and warlocks - to devil worship with obscene rites, secret rendezvous, orgiastic ritual, and possible human sacrifice. What of the occult in all areas? Conversations with the dead and exorcism of demons are mild forms. What of the emotional cripple, the physical freak, the spiritually grotesque? Are they to be forever suppressed amid the smoke of a humid cave at Endor? If the Witch of Endor served Russian Tea to the League of Women Voters, raised African violets in the kitchen, did needlepoint, and sang alto at First Church, she would be approved and popular. But she is weird, an erratic and erotic gnome who keeps pornographic pictures and visits X-rated book stores. What are we to do with her? How justified are we in casting aside those who differ? What of the Christian concept of healing and reconciliation?

COMPASSION

Let us take a final look in the cave. As Saul collapsed, the Witch moved forward, "... let me set a morsel of bread before thee; and eat, that thou mayest have strength ..." She offered hospitality. Saul got up, moved, and sat on the bed, her only piece of furniture - a witch’s bed, yet a king sat upon it. She killed and dressed the fatted calf - perhaps a pet. Who in the New Testament told of killing the fatted calf? She then took flour, kneaded and baked unleavened bread - there was no time for yeast. Who in the Gospels took bread, broke it, gave it to the disciples saying, "This is my body"?

When all was ready the Witch served Saul and his companions. Late that night the trio left, joined the waiting army. The following day, on Mount Gilboa, Saul died. The last meal eaten by the king was served by the Witch of Endor. She alone realized Saul needed food. It took a perverted old woman to understand the mental anguish of a defeated, embittered monarch. Behind her queerness, there was understanding for a fellow suffering human being.

In men whom men condemn as ill
I find so much of goodness still,
In men whom men pronounce divine
I find so much of sin and blot,
I do not dare to draw a line
Between the two, where God has not.3

During my elementary school days there was a boy in my class who was almost twice our age and size. None knew where he lived; it was not near a bath tub. He was always alone, talking to himself. Most made fun of him; all were afraid of him. Valentine Day came, with the inevitable Valentine Box indicator of popularity. I thought it my Christian duty to send a valentine to this lonely one. I watched as he sat by the window. As his name was called, one cheerful cherub handed him my valentine. He took it, looked at it, and threw it on the floor. There went my altruism, my unselfish interest, my Christian charity. Some months later this fellow disappeared. We were not told, but word got around he was first sent to a penal, then a mental institution.

Several years later, I received a letter mailed from a state mental hospital. The note was on rough tablet paper. It had been burned, not torn, from a larger sheet. Scribbled on it, "Thank you for the valentine."

The woman who was symbol of sin and vice was the last to render kindness too dying man. Strange, how we discover light amid gloom, kindness in caves. It was Micah who said, "... what doth the Lord require ... but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God." (6:8) It was Jesus who spoke "... whosoever shall give ... a cup of cold water ..." (Matthew 10:42).


1. Macbeth, Act I, Scene I.

2. Ibid., Act IV, Scene I.

3. "In Men Whom Men Condemn" by Joaquin Miller, from Masterpieces of Religious Verse, ed. by Morrison (New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1948), p. 290.

CSS Publishing Co., Inc., And The Play Goes On, by Warren Thomas Smith