“And it came to pass, when Samuel was old, that he made his sons judges over
Israel.”
Samuel 8, arguably, rates as one of the meatiest chapters in the Bible. “And it came to pass,
when Samuel was old, that he made his sons judges over Israel.” Samuel’s old age sets the
scene for succession. Who will take the mantle of judgeship? That question gets answered in
the very next verse: “Now the name of his first-born was Joel; and the name of his second,
Abijah. They were judges in Beer-sheba.” All could have gone swimmingly well, a seamless
political transition, had only Samuel’s sons followed in their righteous father’s footsteps.
But they didn’t. Not even close. “And his sons walked not in his ways, but turned aside after
lucre, and took bribes, and perverted justice.” Abravanel’s commentary on Samuel 8 covers a
gamut of topics, indispensable for Bible students. One of the subjects will be covered in this
essay, others to follow.
Abravanel addresses a point made in the lead verse: “And it came to pass, when Samuel was
old…” How old was he, Abravanel wonders? Moreover, at what age did he die?
If we seek a clue in Samuel 25, where it states his death, we won’t find one. “And Samuel died;
and all Israel gathered themselves together, and lamented him…” All this verse conveys is that
the prophet passed and that his co-religionists mourned.
Understand: The question of Samuel’s lifespan is not simply a factoid. In fact, chroniclers desire
to determine Samuel’s years because that piece of information helps better tabulate the timing
of several other Biblical events, like ascertaining the number of years that the holy ark
remained in Kiriat-jearim or the length of King Saul’s reign or his age when he fell in battle.
Abravanel will take up these calculations in the coming chapters, so we won’t digress here.
One ancient Jewish source – Seder Olam – pegs Samuel’s death at fifty-two. On the surface, this
surprises us, as our verse writes that “Samuel was old…” Fifty-two is far from old, even back
then. Besides, that is not even near a normal lifespan, as written in Psalms: “The days of our
years are threescore years and ten, or even by reason of strength fourscore years” (Psalms 90).
Even more difficult, Abravanel notes, is that premature death, albeit a natural death, suggests
God’s displeasure. Given Samuel’s piety, his upstanding traits, and devotion in judging the
Hebrews admirably, such a truncated lifespan lacks logic.
Abravanel assumes that Samuel lived to a ripe old age, perhaps seventy or eighty, though the
number is not explicit in Scripture. There is an interesting and important sidebar to the question
of Samuel’s lifespan: how do traditionalists handle their dissent of predecessors?
It is not, Abravanel insists, a trifling matter to set aside ancient Jewish sources for they are
repositories of sacred knowledge. And so it is with trepidation that he ventures an alternative
to Seder Olam.
Introspection and self-doubt lead Abravanel to explore the parameters of disagreement and
dissent with Seder Olam. When can it be condoned? Here is what he says. Seder Olam‘s
position that Samuel passed away at fifty-two is problematic. It ties into King David and what
appears to be Seder Olam’s untenable position regarding the holy ark. That is, Abravanel
believes that it is unlikely that David would have transported the holy ark to Jerusalem (from
Kiriath-jearim) in his very first year as king over all twelve tribes of Israel. Probably, he surmises,
the move occurred after a few years. Thus, Seder Olam’s figures are off.
Abravanel insists that readers should not find his challenge to Seder Olam mortifying. There is,
after all, precedent. Take for example Rabbi David Kimchi’s comments on the Book of Judges.
He takes issue with Seder Olam, when it comes to dating the episode of the concubine of
Gibeah. Or, consider Rabbi Levi son of Gershon. He contradicts Seder Olam on several
occasions.