Read Online Warrior Poet by Timothy J. Stoner - Free Book Online Page B

pushed himself up from his chair and resumed pacing. “I asked him why he had not listened to the voice of the Lord. But instead of confessing his sin, he assured me that he had obeyed, since every Amalekite had been placed under the ban. Then, as if mentioning a trifle, he added, ‘All except Agag the king.’”
    At this, Samuel hit the wall with his staff.
    “This time, I could not help myself; I lifted my stick to him, but one of his guards restrained me.” Samuel grew quiet at the memory. A look crossed his face that Ginath had never seen. It was an expression of confusion, disbelief, amazement.
    “I will never forget it,” Samuel continued, his voice growing small. “There was such hurt in Saul’s eyes, as if he were more shocked than I. And then he asked me something that staggered me. ‘What more does your God want?’ Saul asked. ‘Is Lord Sabaoth not a God of war? Does He not command sacrifice? Does He not derive pleasure from the death of His enemies?’” Still holding his staff, the prophet shook his head in disbelief. “I will tell you, Ginath, at that moment I felt sympathy for him. He was like a confused child. Before I could respond, the king was shouting: ‘I obeyed what He commanded and kept only the best sheep to sacrifice to your God at Gilgal. I thought He—and you—would be pleased with that!’”
    Wrapping the gnarled fingers of his free hand around Ginath’s wrist, Samuel looked at him with tears in his eyes. “Gilgal is where Saul disobeyed many years ago by making a sacrifice without waiting for me as I had commanded. I suspect he was intending to make up for that act. That saddened me, but it was his next question that broke my heart: ‘Why is not your God pleased with me?’”
    Samuel bowed his head but did not let go of Ginath’s arm or the staff. “It was then that the Spirit of the Lord came upon me, and I declared: ‘Is the pleasure of Yahweh in holocausts and sacrifices or in obedience to His voice? Be assured of this, obedience is better than sacrifice, submissiveness better than the fat of rams.’”
    The staff slipped out of Samuel’s hand and clattered to the floor. “I grabbed his arm like I am grabbing yours, and I said, ‘Do you not know that defiance is as great a sin as idolatry?’”
    Ginath tried once more to lead Samuel back to the chair in front of the fire, but the prophet would not move. “Saul made a weak apology, trying to justify his disobedience, but I would have none of it. The Lord had made His choice.” Samuel’s voice broke, and as tears slid down his cheeks, he said, “I had to deliver the message. I told him that since he had cast off the word of the Lord, the Lord had cast him aside as king.”
    The old prophet’s head drooped, and his hand slid off Ginath’s arm. From underneath the great mane of hair came Samuel’s voice. It was weak and thin.
    “When I turned to leave, Saul reached for my cloak, and it tore.” He waved his fingers at the folded material on the table. “I knew it was a sign.” This last word was barely decipherable.
    “‘This day, the Lord has torn the kingship of Israel away from you,’ I said. ‘He has given it to a fellow Israelite, who is better than you. And what the Lord has said … He will do.’”
    Samuel gestured for the cup. He turned it over slowly, spilling the contents onto the hearth. “And now,” he intoned with a weary sadness, “I shall never see Saul again.” He threw the empty vessel and broke it against the blackened stone.
    Placing an arm around the prophet, Ginath waited for the old man to compose himself. When Samuel was ready, the Ethiopian led him to the sleeping pallet in the separate room, adjusting the goatskin filled with wool he used for a pillow. Before closing his eyes, Samuel whispered, “I know what you are wondering. And the answer is, I don’t know. The Lord only told me he will be from the tribe of Judah.”
     
    Well past the middle of the night, something