1 Samuel 9:1-4, 17-19; 10:1
January 17, 2026 - Saturday, Memorial of Saint Anthony, Abbot
The first reading of today’s liturgy of the Word tells a deceptively simple story. A young man is sent out by his father to look for lost donkeys—and finds himself standing at the threshold of a kingdom. The narrative of Saul’s anointing as Israel’s first leader unfolds quietly: a fruitless search for animals, an unplanned arrival in Samuel’s town, an unexpected encounter, and a journey home that looks outwardly unchanged (1 Sam 9:1–10:16).
Nothing here feels dramatic. There is no vision, no burning bush, no thunder from heaven. Saul does not set out seeking greatness. He obeys a small command, walks familiar paths, grows tired, worries about returning empty-handed. He listens to his servant. He asks directions. He meets girls drawing water at the edge of town. Only later will we realize that history has been moving beneath these ordinary steps.
The story invites us to slow down and notice how God works—not by interrupting life, but by inhabiting it. Saul reaches Samuel’s town because of what looks like coincidence: a perceptive servant, a casual question, a chance meeting. And yet, as The Jewish Study Bible observes, the narrative insists that God is quietly “directing the course of events” through precisely these unremarkable details. Nothing miraculous happens—and nothing is accidental.
Saul himself appears impressive. He is described as physically outstanding, taller than anyone else in Israel (1 Sam 9:2). But the text already begins to loosen our trust in appearances. When Samuel tells him that he is “the treasure of Israel,” Saul responds with humility: “Am I not a Benjaminite, from the least of the tribes of Israel?” (1 Sam 9:20–21). As Robert Alter notes, this modesty is not entirely factual. Benjamin was a strong tribe, and Saul’s father was a wealthy man. Saul’s response reflects not insignificance, but good manners—a careful, socially appropriate humility already evident when he hesitates to approach Samuel without a gift (1 Sam 9:7).
Israel wanted a king who looked the part. Saul fits the expectation perfectly. Yet God does not call him “king.” He is named “leader” (nagid), and his task is narrowly defined: to deliver Israel from the Philistines (1 Sam 9:16). Saul is chosen not as the fulfillment of Israel’s longing, but as a concession to it—a figure who bridges the unstable period of the judges and the coming monarchy.
And so the story remains open. Saul will be anointed, but not completed. Chosen, but not sufficient. The oil poured on his head does not resolve Israel’s deeper problem. He will not rescue the people, and God will later seek another.
The story ends where it began: on the road, returning home, carrying no donkeys—and no visible crown. It leaves us wondering how often we, too, walk ordinary paths, faithful to small tasks, unaware that something larger is unfolding beside us. Not every calling announces itself as a calling. Sometimes the kingdom is found only by those who were looking for something else.
Scripture Attribution
New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993
the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of
Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
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