When God Picks the Unlikely Guy
What’s 1 Samuel 10 about?
This is the chapter where a shy farm boy gets anointed as Israel’s first king, then immediately tries to hide behind the luggage when it’s time for his coronation. It’s God’s masterclass in choosing the unexpected person and transforming them from the inside out.
The Full Context
Picture this: Israel is having an identity crisis. They’ve been a loose confederation of tribes for centuries, led by judges when crises hit, but now they want to be “like all the nations” with a king. Samuel, their aging prophet-judge, is not thrilled about this request. It feels like rejection—of him, and more importantly, of God’s direct rule over His people. But God tells Samuel to give them what they want, while warning them about the costs of human kingship.
The stage is set in 1 Samuel 9 when a young man named Saul goes looking for his father’s lost donkeys and finds a prophet instead. Samuel has been waiting for him—God had whispered the day before that Israel’s first king would show up looking for livestock. Now in chapter 10, we witness the private anointing, the public selection, and Saul’s rather awkward introduction to kingship. This isn’t just political transition; it’s theological earthquake. Israel is about to learn the difference between what they want and what they need.
What the Ancient Words Tell Us
The Hebrew word for “anointed” here is mashach—literally “to smear with oil.” It’s where we get “Messiah.” But this isn’t just ceremonial; it’s transformational. When Samuel pours that oil on Saul’s head, he’s not just marking him for office—he’s initiating a spiritual process.
Grammar Geeks
The phrase “God will give you another heart” in verse 9 uses the Hebrew lev acher. This isn’t just attitude adjustment—lev encompasses mind, will, and emotions. God is promising Saul a complete internal renovation, not just a leadership manual.
Notice how the signs Samuel gives aren’t random. Meeting two men at Rachel’s tomb, finding three men carrying bread and wine, encountering prophets making music—each one builds toward Saul stepping into his new identity. The progression is beautiful: from death (the tomb) to provision (bread and wine) to celebration and prophecy (the musicians).
When Saul starts prophesying with the group in verse 10, something remarkable happens. The people ask, “Is Saul also among the prophets?” This becomes a saying in Israel—basically their version of “pigs might fly.” The quiet farm boy they knew is suddenly moved by God’s Spirit in ways that astonish everyone.
What Would the Original Audience Have Heard?
To ancient Near Eastern ears, this story would have sounded both familiar and shocking. Kings getting chosen by gods? Normal. Kings being anointed with oil? Standard practice. But a king chosen from obscurity, from a relatively minor tribe, who then hides during his own coronation? That’s unheard of.
The audience would have immediately caught the irony in verse 27: “But some worthless men said, ‘How can this man save us?’” They’re looking at physical appearance and social status, exactly what God told Samuel not to do back in chapter 16 with David. The Hebrew beliya’al (worthless men) appears often in Scripture for people who reject God’s choices.
Did You Know?
Saul hiding among the baggage would have been particularly embarrassing in ancient culture. Baggage was kept at the rear during assemblies—the least honorable position. It’s like hiding in the janitor’s closet during your graduation ceremony.
The phrase “Long live the king!” in verse 24 is literally yechi hamelech—“May the king live!” This wasn’t just a cheer; it was a prayer. In a world where kings often died violently and young, this was asking God to preserve their new leader.
But Wait… Why Did They Need Signs?
Here’s something that puzzles modern readers: Why does Samuel give Saul these specific signs? Couldn’t God just appear in a burning bush or something more dramatic?
The signs serve multiple purposes. First, they’re proof to Saul that this whole thing is really from God—not just an old prophet’s wishful thinking. Second, they mark stages in his transformation. Third, they’re designed to build his confidence gradually rather than overwhelming him all at once.
But there’s something deeper happening. Each sign connects Saul to Israel’s story. Rachel’s tomb reminds him of the matriarchs. The bread and wine echo God’s provision throughout their history. The prophets connect him to the spiritual leadership tradition going back to Moses.
Wrestling with the Text
The most uncomfortable part of this chapter might be verse 27: “But he held his peace.” When people question Saul’s legitimacy right after his coronation, he… says nothing. Is this wisdom or weakness?
Some commentators see this as noble restraint—a leader who doesn’t need to defend himself immediately. Others see it as an early sign of the insecurity that will later plague Saul’s reign. The Hebrew hecharish suggests deliberate silence, not speechlessness from fear.
Wait, That’s Strange…
Why does God choose to work through human kingship when the whole system seems flawed from the start? Samuel’s warnings in chapter 8 about what kings will do to the people prove tragically accurate. It’s almost like God is saying, “Okay, you want a king? Let me show you why that’s complicated.”
The transformation theme creates its own tension. God promises to give Saul “another heart,” and we see evidence of that change when the Spirit comes upon him. But we know from the larger story that this doesn’t last. What does it mean for God to change someone’s heart if that change isn’t permanent?
How This Changes Everything
This chapter introduces us to a pattern that runs throughout Scripture: God’s habit of choosing the unexpected person. Saul is tall and handsome, yes, but he’s also insecure, from a minor tribe, and completely unprepared for leadership. Sound familiar? It’s the same pattern we see with Moses (“I can’t speak”), Gideon (“I’m from the weakest clan”), and David (“I’m just a shepherd”).
“God doesn’t call the equipped; He equips the called. And sometimes that equipment comes one awkward step at a time.”
The anointing oil in verse 1 creates a new category of person: the messiah, the anointed one. This isn’t just about Saul—it’s establishing a principle that will culminate in another unexpected choice from an even more unlikely place: a baby born in Bethlehem to a teenage girl.
Notice how the Spirit’s coming changes everything about Saul’s behavior and abilities, but doesn’t change his fundamental character issues. This suggests that God’s gifts and calling don’t automatically transform personality or remove the need for personal growth and obedience.
Key Takeaway
God specializes in taking ordinary people, anointing them for extraordinary purposes, then patiently working through their very human struggles to accomplish His plans. The question isn’t whether you’re qualified—it’s whether you’re willing to let Him transform you along the way.
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