When we think of the kings of Israel, most of us think first of David or Shlomo. David united the kingdom, established Jerusalem, and became the ancestor of the eternal royal dynasty. Shlomo built the Beit HaMikdash and became synonymous with wisdom.

Shaul rarely comes first.

If anything, he is remembered as the king who lost the kingdom.

That has always struck me as curious.

This week’s parashah, Shoftim, introduces the Torah’s mitzvah of appointing a king. If there was ever a week to study a king, it is surely this one. And if there was ever a king whom we might expect to become the Torah’s great model of leadership, it ought to be the very first one, chosen directly by God through the prophet Shmuel.

Yet the more I study both the Torah and the commentators, the more I find myself asking a different question.

Not, “Was Shaul a great king?”

“Why did God begin with Shaul?”

The answer, I suspect, begins not with Shaul himself, but with the Torah’s surprisingly cautious introduction to monarchy.

Unlike most mitzvot, the Torah does not simply command the appointment of a king. Instead, it anticipates a future moment when the people themselves will say:

“כִּי תָבֹא אֶל הָאָרֶץ … וְאָמַרְתָּ אָשִׂימָה עָלַי מֶלֶךְ כְּכָל הַגּוֹיִם אֲשֶׁר סְבִיבֹתָי. שׂוֹם תָּשִׂים עָלֶיךָ מֶלֶךְ אֲשֶׁר יִבְחַר ה’ אֱלֹקֶיךָ בּוֹ.” “When you come into the land… and you say, ‘I will set a king over me, like all the nations around me,’ you shall surely set over yourself a king whom the Lord your God shall choose.” (Devarim 17:14-15)

“כִּי תָבֹא אֶל הָאָרֶץ … וְאָמַרְתָּ אָשִׂימָה עָלַי מֶלֶךְ כְּכָל הַגּוֹיִם אֲשֶׁר סְבִיבֹתָי. שׂוֹם תָּשִׂים עָלֶיךָ מֶלֶךְ אֲשֶׁר יִבְחַר ה’ אֱלֹקֶיךָ בּוֹ.”

“When you come into the land… and you say, ‘I will set a king over me, like all the nations around me,’ you shall surely set over yourself a king whom the Lord your God shall choose.” (Devarim 17:14-15)

The wording is remarkable.

Most commandments begin with God’s instruction. This one begins with the people’s desire: “וְאָמַרְתָּ אָשִׂימָה עָלַי מֶלֶךְ.” Only then does the Torah explain how that desire must be restrained.

The debate among our commentators reflects that unusual introduction. The Gemara records two views: Rabbi Yehudah regards appointing a king as a mitzvah, while Rabbi Nehorai understands these verses as responding to the people’s future request. Rambam codifies monarchy as a positive commandment, whereas Abarbanel views the passage as regulating something the people would seek rather than describing the Torah’s political ideal.

Whether one follows Rambam or Abarbanel, one point remains true. The institution may have emerged from the people’s request, but the king himself would still be chosen by God.

Indeed, before Shaul even appears, God tells Shmuel:

“כָּעֵת מָחָר אֶשְׁלַח אֵלֶיךָ אִישׁ מֵאֶרֶץ בִּנְיָמִן.” “About this time tomorrow I will send you a man from the land of Benjamin.” (I Shmuel 9:16)

“כָּעֵת מָחָר אֶשְׁלַח אֵלֶיךָ אִישׁ מֵאֶרֶץ בִּנְיָמִן.”

“About this time tomorrow I will send you a man from the land of Benjamin.” (I Shmuel 9:16)

There is an important distinction here between the institution and the individual. The people’s request may have reflected a spiritual failing. They sought to be “כְּכָל הַגּוֹיִם“, “like all the nations.” Yet once monarchy became Israel’s reality, God Himself selected the man who would occupy the throne. Whatever reservations existed about the request, the text leaves little doubt about the king.

Shaul was not merely the........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)