The people of Israel had never experienced a moment like this. For generations, the nation had been governed by judges—men and women raised up by God in times of crisis. But now everyone had gathered to see something new.

The Israelites had asked for a king to rule over them like the nations around them (I Sam. 8:5). Anticipation hung in the air as the tribes gathered before God (10:17), knowing that their first ruler was about to be revealed. Some were hopeful about the strength and prosperity a king might bring. Others remembered God’s warning about what their request would cost (8:11-18).

The process unfolded publicly and deliberately as lots were cast—tribe, family, household—until a young Benjamite named Saul was selected.

Yet he could not be found.

Confusion rippled through the assembly until God revealed the reason: Saul had “hid himself among the stuff” (10:22). He was humble—“little in [his] own sight” (15:17)—even crouching among baggage to avoid being recognized. Yet he was still God’s choice.

When Saul finally emerged, he physically stood head and shoulders above everyone. The nation erupted: “God save the king” (10:24).

It was a new beginning for Israel and a promising start for young Saul. But years later, that same king would hear a very different announcement: “The Lord has rent the kingdom of Israel from you this day, and has given it to a neighbor of yours, that is better than you” (15:28).

These two moments frame Saul’s life. His story shows how a person can receive opportunity, authority and help from God—and lose it all by drifting from the path of humble, obedient reliance on Him.

A Humble Beginning

Saul’s first appearance in Scripture is in an unremarkable setting. He is introduced as the son of Kish, carrying out a simple task. Saul’s father sent him to search for a few donkeys that had wandered away (I Sam. 9:3). It is here that Saul first encountered the prophet Samuel.

Saul had a kingly presence. He was described as a “choice young man, and a goodly: and there was not among the children of Israel a goodlier person than he” (vs. 2).

Yet Saul did not see himself as a leader.

When Samuel first spoke to him about Israel’s future, Saul responded with humility: “Am not I a Benjamite, of the smallest of the tribes of Israel? And my family the least of all the families of the tribe of Benjamin? Wherefore then speak you so to me?” (9:21). He was not eager for recognition or authority and felt the weight of what was being placed on him.

This was the attitude God desired. Saul was never meant to rule by human strength. God wanted a king who would obey and rely on Him.

Samuel told Saul that God would give him strength: “The Spirit of the Lord will come upon you, and you shall prophesy…and shall be turned into another man” (10:6). The chapter adds that “God gave him [Saul] another heart” (vs. 9).

Saul’s reliance on God was soon tested. When the Ammonites threatened the Israelite city of Jabesh Gilead in chapter 11, God’s Spirit stirred Saul to action (vs. 6). Saul rallied Israel, led the people into battle and delivered the city (vs. 11). This victory unified support for the young king.

Saul was off to a great start as Israel’s leader. And when God starts working with a person, whether an ancient ruler or a Christian coming into the Church today, He gives them help.

Think back to when you started learning about God’s way of life. Your early zeal produced results. You were on fire to obey God—keeping the Sabbath, tithing, praying, studying, serving others and doing all the other things He expects.

But to succeed in God’s Way, that spiritual momentum has to continue, even as years go on and times get hard.

Jesus Christ told the Church at Ephesus: “I have somewhat against you, because you have left your first love” (Rev. 2:4). This is a warning for all of us. Leaving our first love does not happen all at once. It takes place gradually over time.

Early excitement is not self-sustaining. Humility must be preserved. God’s help must continue to be sought, and zeal must be guarded. A strong beginning is a gift—but not a guarantee of where we finish.

A Critical Decision

Israel soon faced a serious and frightening threat from the Philistines. Their forces gathered in massive numbers—thousands of chariots, horsemen and “people as the sand which is on the sea shore in multitude” (I Sam. 13:5). Israel was outmatched and unprepared.

As the Philistines advanced, fear spread quickly. Some Israelites hid in caves, thickets and pits, while others fled across the Jordan River (vs. 6-7). The nation Saul had just united was already beginning to unravel.

Samuel had instructed Saul to wait for him at Gilgal. But as days passed and the people continued to scatter, Saul felt the pressure intensify. With the enemy nearby and his forces dwindling, Saul faced a test of leadership and faith (vs. 8).

Rather than waiting for Samuel to come and offer the burnt offering—seeking God’s favor before battle—Saul overstepped his authority and offered it himself (vs. 9). He knew the instruction he had been given and chose to set it aside. The act revealed impatience with God’s process and timing. Under pressure, He decided to take control of the situation.

When Samuel finally arrived and asked what Saul had done, the king did not confess—he defended himself. He laid out his reasons: The people were scattering, the Philistines were pressing in, and Samuel had not come “within the days appointed” (vs. 11). Then came an excuse: “I forced myself therefore, and offered a burnt offering” (vs. 12). In other words, Saul claimed this was his only option.

Samuel made clear how God viewed the matter: “You have done foolishly. You have not kept the commandment of the Lord your God, which He commanded you” (vs. 13).

This was Saul’s first recorded act of direct disobedience as king, and the consequences were decisive: “Now your kingdom shall not continue: the Lord has sought Him a man after His own heart” (vs. 14). Saul would remain king for a time, but the future of his line had been cut off.

At first glance, it may seem difficult to understand why offering a sacrifice would carry so much weight. But the sacrifice was not the core issue. Saul ignored clear instructions. God expects us to obey His commands precisely and fully. He does not want His people to play games with when and how to do what He says. Deuteronomy 12:32 says, “What thing soever I command you, observe to do it: you shall not add thereto, nor diminish from it.”

Saul was given an opportunity to examine himself and change when Samuel rebuked him. He could have humbled himself, accepted the warning and altered course.

He did not.

Correction benefits those who are wise enough to receive it: “He that hears reproof gets understanding” (Prov. 15:32). Another proverb adds, “Reproofs of instruction are the way of life” (6:23). If there is a “Samuel” in our lives telling us we are wrong, the choice to hear and heed is ours. This can apply to the correction we give ourselves through self-examination, as well as correction that can come from God’s Word, trials in life, and directly from the ministry and other people.

Correction accepted early can prevent rejection later. But correction resisted allows small compromises to harden into patterns—and patterns to become character.

Partial Obedience

God soon gave Saul another opportunity to obey. This time, the instruction left no room for ambiguity. Through Samuel, God commanded the king to utterly destroy the people of Amalek, sparing nothing (I Sam. 15:1-3).

Militarily, Saul succeeded. Amalek was defeated. But once again, Saul chose partial obedience. He spared Agag the Amalekite king and preserved the best of the livestock, destroying only what he considered worthless (vs. 8-9).

When Samuel met him afterward, Saul confidently greeted him: “Blessed be you of the Lord: I have performed the commandment of the Lord” (vs. 13).

This reveals how far Saul’s thinking had shifted. He believed he had obeyed, even while the evidence of disobedience stood plainly before him.

Samuel replied: “What means then this bleating of the sheep in mine ears, and the lowing of the oxen which I hear?” (vs. 14). Somehow, Saul did not think Samuel would realize what he had done, despite the animals making noise not far from where they stood.

Saul attempted to justify himself. The animals, he claimed, had been spared to sacrifice to God (vs. 15). But Samuel cut through the explanation: “To obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams. For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry” (vs. 22-23).

Then another issue surfaced. Saul admitted, “I feared the people, and obeyed their voice” (vs. 24). Fear of people had replaced the fear of God. Though he was king, Saul allowed pressure—whether from his army, his counselors or his own desire for approval—to outweigh a direct command from God.

It was at this point that Samuel pronounced God’s judgment: “The Lord has rent the kingdom of Israel from you this day, and has given it to a neighbor of yours, that is better than you” (vs. 28). Saul’s reign would continue for a time, but the verdict was settled: God had already chosen another.

Saul’s insistence—“I have performed the commandment”—illustrates the deceitfulness of human nature.

Jeremiah 17:9 says, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?” Whether we have been in the Church for five years or 50, we must always be on guard against self-deception—especially the kind that makes us view partial obedience as “faithfulness.”

Fearing the people is a common pitfall. It takes different forms today: Reacting with shame and embarrassment when asked about our beliefs. Compromising our behavior on the Sabbath due to pressure from family or friends. Turning a blind eye to unethical behavior in our workplace because we are concerned about office politics. The trap is real.

God gives a clear remedy: “The fear of man brings a snare: but whoso puts his trust in the Lord shall be safe” (Prov. 29:25). When temptation comes to fear the people, fear God instead.

A Decisive Change

Saul continued to function as king over Israel. Yet by this point, a decisive change had taken place beneath the surface: “The Spirit of the Lord departed from Saul” (I Sam. 16:14). His position remained, but his connection to God did not.

At the same time, God had already begun working elsewhere. He chose a young man named David to be Saul’s replacement—the “man after My heart” and the “neighbor who is better than you” God had spoken of. David was anointed privately, without public announcement or ceremony (vs. 13). Over time, God began to raise his profile, beginning with his defeat of the Philistine giant Goliath.

As David’s victories mounted, Saul’s insecurity deepened. When the women of Israel praised David’s military victories, he sneered: “They have ascribed unto David ten thousands, and to me they have ascribed but thousands” (18:8).

From here, Saul’s downward course accelerated. Bitterness led to repeated attempts on David’s life. At times, Saul would acknowledge David’s righteousness (24:16-17), yet at other times he saw David as a hated enemy.

When Saul later sought divine direction, “the Lord answered him not, neither by dreams, nor by Urim, nor by prophets” (28:6). In desperation, he turned to something God had forbidden—seeking a medium at Endor (vs. 7) in an attempt to speak with the now-deceased Samuel. The king who had once been dramatically chosen by God now openly violated God’s Law to quiet his fears.

Saul’s story ends tragically. Wounded and defeated by the Philistines, he took his own life on Mount Gilboa (31:1-6). A reign that began with humility and promise ended in isolation and despair.

The difference between Saul’s early strength and his later unraveling was his relationship with God. Saul’s decline was gradual, marked by repeated moments of self-justification and resisted correction. But once the Spirit of the Lord had departed, Saul was left to the full force of his fear, pride and human reasoning—and he sank into darkness.

This is preserved as a warning because the same thing can happen to us if we allow it. That is why Scripture warns us to “Quench not the Spirit” (I Thes. 5:19) and to “grieve not the holy Spirit of God” (Eph. 4:30). If any of us feel concern reading those warnings, we should not dismiss it—we should take it to heart. That discomfort is God’s Spirit working in us, prodding us to repent and change. Seek God and, if needed, reach out to your minister.

The opposite of losing spiritual vitality is being “led” by God’s Spirit (Rom. 8:14) and “filled” with it (Eph. 5:18). Jesus said, “He that believes on Me…out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water” (John 7:38). A Christian needs God’s Spirit actively at work—flowing into us as God strengthens and changes us, and flowing outward as we obey Him and serve others.

Maintaining contact with God and keeping an abundant supply of His Holy Spirit makes all the difference between spiritual stability and spiritual collapse.

The Choice Is Ours

God preserved Saul’s story with so much detail for a reason. Speaking of ancient Israel, Paul wrote: “Now all these things happened unto them for ensamples: and they are written for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are come” (I Cor. 10:11).

The successes and failures of our forerunners in ancient Israel can admonish us to live righteously today. The New Testament Church is spiritual Israel, the “Israel of God” (Gal. 6:16). And we are living at the end of the age just before the Kingdom arrives. We truly are the people “upon whom the ends of the world are come.”

Christians are in training to rule with even greater authority than Saul had. God is preparing us to be “made…unto our God kings and priests: and we shall reign on the earth” (Rev. 5:10).

When Saul disobeyed in I Samuel 15, the prophet asked him: “When you were little in your own sight, were you not made the head of the tribes of Israel?” (vs. 17). Saul’s collapse did not begin with open rebellion. It began when he stopped seeing himself as small before God—and when correction became something to explain away rather than receive.

Remaining little in our own sight is vital to staying on the right path. Micah 6:8 says, “What does the Lord require of you, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?”

When Saul was little in his own sight, God made him “head of the tribes of Israel.” If we remain humble, God will give us rulership over all the nations (Rev. 2:26-27).

So we must avoid the patterns that contributed to Saul’s downfall: Self-reliance replacing dependence on God; fearing people more than fearing God; obedience offered on our own terms; defending ourselves before God instead of trembling at His Word.

Instead, be zealous. Stoke the embers of your “first love” and stay close to God. Remain humble, teachable and responsive. Win the daily war against deceitful human nature.

God recorded Saul’s story not to leave us discouraged, but to keep us spiritually awake. If we remain small before God—willing to listen, quick to change and committed to obey—God’s help will not depart from us as it did from Saul. He will guide us as kings in training, all the way to ruling in the Kingdom of God.

The life of Israel’s first king is an enduring warning. And it also points to an enduring hope: We can succeed where Saul failed.