To Obey Is Better

A Short Reflection on 1 Samuel 15

Not all warnings come dressed in thunder. Some come quietly, bleeding out in the background of Scripture, like the slow unraveling of a man who started strong and died by his own sword. Saul is one of those warnings.

He didn’t begin as a tyrant. He began as a nobody. A tall farm boy from the smallest tribe. Timid. Unassuming. Anointed by a prophet. Filled with the Spirit. He even showed mercy when he could’ve drawn blood.

But the man who once hid among the baggage eventually built a monument to himself. And when it came time to obey God completely, he chose something more manageable: partial obedience with a pious twist.

That’s where we find him in 1 Samuel 15. And that’s where many Christians are found today... doing just enough to look obedient, while keeping just enough back to remain in control.

God didn’t just give Saul a job to do; He gave him a test.

“Now go and strike Amalek and utterly destroy all that he has.” (1 Samuel 15:3)

This wasn’t vague. It wasn’t open to interpretation. Kill it all. Every man, woman, child, and animal. To modern ears, that sounds brutal, barbaric even. But let’s not pretend we’re more moral than God while living in a nation that carves up babies and calls it healthcare. We don't hate judgment because we're righteous. We hate it because it reminds us that we deserve it too.

The Amalekites were not innocents. They preyed on the weak. They had no fear of God. And now the time for judgment had come. Saul’s task wasn’t about strategy. It was about obedience.

At first glance, Saul appears to follow the order. He gathers the army. He spares the Kenites. He attacks the Amalekites.

But then…

“Saul and the people spared Agag and the best of the sheep… and were not willing to destroy them utterly.” (v. 9)

He did most of it. But he held back what looked too good to waste. A king. A few fat lambs. Maybe a little applause from the troops. And then he dressed it up like it was all part of a plan to worship God.

That’s the trap, partial obedience dressed in religious language. It fools the people around you. Sometimes it even fools you. But it never fools God.

This is where so many fall. They obey God where it costs little and twist His Word where it costs much. They treat His commandments like a fast-food order: “I’ll have that one, skip the hard parts, add a little blessing on the side.”

God is not McDonald's. He’s the King.

Samuel shows up, and Saul greets him like nothing’s wrong. Like a man walking out of the brothel holding a Bible.

“Blessed are you of the Lord! I have carried out the command of the Lord.” (v. 13)

And Samuel, who hasn’t slept all night because he’s grieving this man’s ruin, doesn’t play along.

“What then is this bleating of the sheep in my ears?” (v. 14)

Caught red-handed, Saul scrambles. He blames the people. Claims noble intent. Says it was all for worship.

It’s the same old trick: blame others, sugarcoat sin, talk spiritual. I can’t count how many times I’ve heard “God told me…” used as cover for foolishness or disobedience. Religious talk becomes a kind of costume. And once you get good at wearing it, you forget it’s not your skin.

But Samuel won’t let him squirm out of it. He speaks the truth plainly:

“To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed than the fat of rams.” (v. 22)

God isn’t looking for gestures. He doesn’t want your burned offerings. He wants your heart. And when you won’t give it to Him, He doesn’t call your half-obedience “good enough.” He calls it rebellion. Witchcraft. Idolatry.

Rebellion, like Saul’s, is an attempt to remain independent from God while keeping Him in your pocket—sacrificing just enough to get what you want, but never enough to lay down your will. It’s a spiritual bribe. A deal with God where you still call the shots.

You know what that looks like:

You lust, but you tell yourself it’s okay because you’re not looking at porn.

You refuse to love your wife, but justify it because you bought her something nice.

You won’t submit to your husband, but tell yourself it’s fine because you serve in other ways.

We’re experts at minimizing sin and maximizing sacrifice. But God sees through all of it.

Eventually Saul confesses. Sort of.

“I have sinned; but please honor me now before the elders of my people…” (v. 30)

He’s not crushed. He’s calculating. His confession isn’t repentance; it’s PR. He wants to look good in front of the crowd—even if it means dragging Samuel along with him.

Compare that to David. When Nathan confronts him, he breaks. He doesn't make excuses. He pleads for mercy:

“Create in me a clean heart, O God… The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, You will not despise.” (Psalm 51:10, 17)

That’s the difference. One man builds a monument to himself. The other tears himself open before God.

You may be tempted to shrug off Saul’s fate because you think, “Well, he wasn’t elect. I’m safe.”

Don’t be so sure. Yes, God preserves His people. But one of the means He uses is warnings like this. The elect heed the warnings. The damned ignore them. Take heed.

Saul didn’t end up at the house of a witch overnight. He got there one compromise at a time. And if you won’t obey God fully, from the heart, you may find yourself further down the same road than you ever thought possible.

Keep your sacrifices. God wants your heart.

Obedience isn’t about getting everything perfect. It’s about doing what God says without editing, without delay, and without conditions.

Let Saul’s life be a warning. Let David’s repentance be your model.

And remember:

“To obey is better than sacrifice.”.