Should you reject those who rejected God (and You)?

Israel had just done something terrible. They demanded a king like the nations. Not because God had failed them, but because they no longer wanted to depend on him alone. And Samuel, one of the most revered judges of Israel, the man who had given his entire life to leading them without a throne or a crown, was standing in front of them when the full weight of what they had done finally registered with them.

1 Samuel 12 is Samuel’s formal address marking Israel’s transition from the judges to the monarchy, but it is not a gentle ceremonial speech. It unfolds like a covenant courtroom scene. It is a courtroom scene. Samuel calls the nation to testify that, as God’s appointed judge and prophet, he never took a bribe, never oppressed them, and never defrauded them (12:3–5). Then he walks through their history: slavery in Egypt, deliverance, and the period of the judges. He names Jerubbaal, that is, Gideon, Bedan (Barak in several ancient versions), Yiftach, and even himself, each one raised by God to rescue Israel when the people forgot Him and turned away. Then he brings them to the very recent moment: “When you saw Nachash, king of the Ammonites, coming against you, you said to me, ‘No, but a king shall reign over us,’ although the LORD your God was your king” (1 Sam 12:12).

To demonstrate his authority to speak on behalf of the heavenly king, Samuel does something dramatic. It is the wheat harvest, the normally dry season, when rain is extremely rare and potentially destructive. Samuel calls upon the LORD to send thunder and rain. God answers, and the people are terrified (1 Sam 12:17–18).

This moment is where the passage turns and where I want to spend the rest of this article, because verses 19 through 23 contain something easy to read past but profoundly important once you see it.

Israel’s confession of sin

The people’s response to the storm is immediate:

“Pray for your servants to the LORD your God that we may not die, for we have added to all our sins this evil of asking for ourselves a king” (1 Sam 12:19).

That is a remarkable admission. They name what they have done as ra’ah (רָעָה), “evil” or “wickedness,” adding it to all their previous sins.

Samuel’s answer is not what we might expect from a man who has every right to say, “I told you so.” He tells them instead, surprisingly, not to be afraid. Yes, you have done this evil, he says, but now do not turn aside from following the LORD. Serve Him wholeheartedly. And do not turn aside after the tohu (תֹּהוּ), the empty and futile things that cannot profit or deliver, “for they are tohu” (1 Sam 12:21). The same Hebrew word appears in Genesis 1:2:

“And the earth was formless and empty” (תֹהוּ וָבֹהוּ, tohu vavohu) (Gen 1:2).

The verbal echo is suggestive: abandoning God means pursuing what is ultimately empty. We should not insist that Samuel is deliberately interpreting Genesis 1:2, but the shared Hebrew word gives both passages a powerful resonance.

Then comes the reason for Samuel’s hope that Israel will not be cast off, and it has nothing to do with what they did or did not deserve. It is a striking expression of covenant grace.

“For the LORD will not forsake His people, for His great name’s sake, because it has pleased the LORD to make you a people for Himself” (1 Sam 12:22).

God’s continued commitment rests upon His great name and gracious choice, not upon Israel’s deserving behavior. We could have stopped here, but Samuel is not finished.

The Sin Samuel Refuses to Commit

Verse 23 is the hinge of the chapter and one of the most overlooked in the historical books:

“Moreover, as for me, far be it from me that I should sin against the LORD in ceasing to pray for you, but I will teach you the good and the right way.” (1 Sam 12:23)

Sit with that phrase for a moment: “chalilah li mechato laShem” (חָלִילָה לִּי מֵחֲטֹא לַיהוָה), “far be it from me to sin against the LORD.” “Chalilah” is strong language. It is the same word Avraham uses in Genesis 18:25 when he confronts God over the fate of Sedom: “Chalilah lecha, far be it from You to do such a thing (חָלִלָה לְּךָ מֵעֲשֹׂת כַּדָּבָר הַזֶּה).” (Gen 18:25) It expresses something that should be unthinkable, a line that must never be crossed.

And what does Samuel put right after? Not idolatry. Not murder. He places “ceasing to pray for you” (מֵחֲדֹל לְהִתְפַּלֵּל בַּעַדְכֶם, meḥadol lehitpallel ba’adkhem) in that same unthinkable category. For Samuel, stopping his intercession for God’s rebellious yet still chosen people would be a sin against the LORD.

This tells us something important about covenant leadership. Samuel understood intercession not merely as a kindness offered to Israel, but as part of the calling he owed to God Himself. Israel’s rejection did not release him from that calling. The passage does not make every believer responsible to pray indefinitely for every person, but it does warn God’s servants against allowing disappointment, wounded pride, or rejection to silence the prayers God is still calling them to pray.

Prayer and Teaching Together

Samuel does not stop at prayer, however. He adds,

“I will teach you the good and the right way (וְהוֹרֵיתִי אֶתְכֶם, בְּדֶרֶךְ הַטּוֹבָה וְהַיְשָׁרָה)” (1 Sam 12:23).

Intercession and instruction are paired, not separated. The verb translated “I will instruct,” vehoriti (וְהוֹרֵיתִי), comes from the Hebrew root ירה, the same root traditionally associated with Torah (תּוֹרָה). Samuel will keep speaking to God on their behalf, and he will keep speaking God’s truth to them. In Samuel’s ministry, one without the other would be incomplete. He commits himself to both.

Conclusion

That is the choice before many of us today. People we love sometimes choose wrongly, reject the truth, and deeply wound us. Samuel reminds us that their failure does not necessarily release us from the calling God has given us. He refuses both bitter abandonment and sentimental silence. He continues praying, but he also continues teaching “the good and the right way.”

This does not mean remaining in an abusive situation, refusing necessary boundaries, or carrying responsibility God has not given us. Intercession does not require proximity, and love does not forbid wisdom. But neither should wounded pride decide when our prayers must end.

God is still calling you to pray. Speak truth with love. Intercession is not approval of wrongdoing. It is the refusal to believe that another person’s failure is greater than God’s power to redeem.