King Saul. John C. Holbert

ask forgiveness of YHWH for the people’s evil and had even offered his own life in their place if God demanded such a sacrifice. God did forgive them, and even made for Moses another set of the ten laws for him to take with them as they moved toward the land God had promised.

      It was then that the Ark was made, as a receptacle for the tablets of God. It was made to the exact specifications of YHWH, big enough to contain the two divine tablets of the law, but not so big as to be unwieldy to carry the long distances through the wilderness. It was wooden, nothing special to look at, oblong in shape with leather loops at the four corners on the top through which long wooden poles could be passed so that it could be carried by two men on their shoulders. Carved on the top, too, was the monstrous figure of an ancient Cherubim, a winged creature with cruel claws and sharp beak that warned away those who would abuse the Ark or even touch it. The carving was surprisingly crude, but again, thought Samuel, if it were too ornate it might rival the God who was thought to be enthroned upon the Ark, seated somehow on that Cherubim itself. The Ark possessed a wondrous power, nothing to be trifled with, bearing as it did the tablets of the Almighty YHWH. Samuel had learned as one of his first lessons the Song of the Ark. When the Ark was made to appear, this was said:

      “Arise, O YHWH; let your enemies be scattered!

      May those who hate you flee from your presence!”

      And when it was returned to the temple, the people would say:

      “Rest, O YHWH; may the thousands of Israel increase!”

      Samuel had memorized these ceremonial words that were uttered whenever the Ark was moved in and out of the temple. But those exciting days were few now; he could not remember the last festival day for the movement of the Ark of the Covenant. So it sat, silent, neglected, gathering dust, the memory of its vaunted power fading with its cracking varnish and splitting wood. In every way the boy Samuel could see the glory of Israel was something far less than glorious, the temple of Shiloh was a crumbling hulk, and the future of the land was as uncertain as the flickering lamp on the wall. He closed his eyes with these dark and hopeless thoughts clouding his mind, and tried to recover that first excitement that his early days in this place had given. He was as close to despair as the day his mother had left him here so long ago.

      Suddenly, a voice shattered the silence.

      “Samuel, Samuel!”

      Immediately and automatically, the boy replied,

      “Here I am!”

      This was the correct way to respond to a summons, and Samuel leapt out of his bed to rush to Eli’s room. Perhaps the old man was ill. Perhaps he had had a bad dream, as was common as he aged. There was some irritation in Samuel’s reply, however much he tried to keep it polite; he got little enough sleep as it was without the interruptions of a foolish old man.

      “I’m here; you called me.”

      Samuel waited for the instructions to get Eli some water, or to soothe his troubled mind, or to clean up his bed after still another accident; he could hardly control his body anymore. But instead the man said,

      “I did not call; go and lie down.”

      Samuel trudged sleepily back to his bed.

      But the voice spoke again.

      “Samuel, Samuel!”

      This time, without replying, a disgusted Samuel stomped toward Eli’s room, ready to berate the slobbering idiot, but before arriving he calmed enough to say again, “I’m here; you called me.”

      But Eli, turning his head in the direction of Samuel’s voice, said with genuine surprise, “I did not call, my son. Go and lie down.”

      Samuel wanted to add that he thought Eli was so addled as not to know what he was saying, but left the rank room in silence.

      But no sooner had he settled into his bed when the same voice came a third time.

      “Samuel, Samuel!”

      And a third time, Samuel got out of his bed and with real anger walked to Eli’s room. And through clenched teeth, he glared at the blind priest and said, “I’m here; you called me!”

      But this time Eli paused before responding, as if he were thinking, as if his muddled brain was attempting to come to some sort of conclusion about what appeared to be happening.

      This time he said, “Go and lie down, and if the voice comes again, say exactly this: ‘Speak, YHWH, for your servant is listening.’”

      Samuel stared in shocked silence. Could YHWH be calling him? Could this be the experience he had hoped and prayed for? It seemed completely unlikely that YHWH would announce the divine presence in the dead of night to him, a boy, not a man, in the failing temple of Shiloh, calling his own name again and again.

      He rushed back to his bed and waited…and waited…and waited. There was no sleeping now, no ruminations on past glories and present disappointments. Samuel’s ears strained to hear the voice again. All was silent. The voice must have been Eli’s, the priest’s confused mind manifesting itself in incoherency. Samuel had about convinced himself that the explanation for the nighttime voice was Eli’s uncontrollable shouting after all, when the voice spoke again just as it had before.

      “Samuel, Samuel!”

      Samuel was terrified, but not really believing that this was in fact the voice of YHWH, he did not quite respond as Eli had told him to.

      Instead, he said, “Speak, for your servant is listening,” not identifying the ghostly voice as YHWH.

      But to his amazement and horror, it soon became clear that it was the voice of YHWH, and that Samuel had been singled out for a terrible task.

      “I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone daring to hear it tingle. On the day when I act I will do everything I said I would do to the house of Eli. I am about to punish him and his family and all his relations, because he knew all the evil of his disgusting sons, who spend their lives blaspheming me, and did not do enough to restrain them. As a result, there are not enough sacrifices, not enough prayers, not enough vows to assuage my fury against all of them, and that fury will never be quenched but will forever rage and rage and rage!”

      And with that final “rage” echoing in the air, or it seemed to be in the air, the voice was stilled. And Samuel was stunned.

      YHWH was infuriated beyond calming! God had announced to Samuel that he was coming to punish Eli and all of his house. But how? When? And what was Samuel to do? YHWH had not told him to do anything. YHWH had just vented fury, warning about coming judgment. The boy-man lay on his bed trembling all night. Was he to tell this monstrous news to Eli? Why should he, an apprentice to the priest, be called to announce such things to a pathetic old man? And just why was God so enraged against him? Samuel had heard Eli attempt to censure his two boys, but they were incorrigible, untrainable, unchangeable. Surely, a doddering and enfeebled father could not be fully blamed for the actions of two wayward sons. Surely he could not be held so culpable that his entire future, and the future of his family, were now forfeit? Is YHWH so demanding as all that? Could there not be forgiveness from God for all the faithful priestly service, for all the prayers and all the sacrifices Eli had offered in the little temple at Shiloh? This YHWH was a hard taskmaster, a demanding God who brooked no argument, whose mind when made up was not to be changed. Samuel wrestled all night with his love and respect for Eli, who however weak and confused, had mentored him as well as his limited gifts could do, and he wrestled with the harsh pronouncement of YHWH who was determined to obliterate the house of Eli for all time.

      But how was YHWH to act? The anger was clear but the means of that anger were not. Was this the way that YHWH charged chosen servants with divine work? Was it up to the servants to choose just how the divine work was to be carried out? Samuel struggled all night with what he should do. This YHWH was stern and demanding, but not as clear as the boy had hoped or needed.

      As the sun rose, Samuel got up off his bed, removed the bar off the door, and flung the door to the temple wide. The bright sun streamed