At that time Samuel was not familiar with the LORD, because the LORD had not revealed anything to him as yet.
The LORD called Samuel again, for the third time.
Getting up and going to Eli, he said, “Here I am. You called me.”
The LORD called Samuel again, for the third time.
Getting up and going to Eli, he said, “Here I am. You called me.”
A spiritual director
once told me that we must learn to hear the voice of God. Unfamiliar to us, it
may seem like nothing at all, as when one learns to taste tea or wine. The Christmas
song, “Do you hear what I hear?” expresses the mystery because I may be hearing
it but I have never noticed it. I might respond to that question, “Do I hear
what? I don’t hear anything!”
It’s like noticing one’s
vision or smell or weight. How do I notice something that has always been there?
The boy Samuel had grown
from infancy at Shiloh where his mother Hannah left him. He was familiar with
the smells of candles and oil, of the old priest and the crowds who visited the
shrine. He could sing their songs and recite their prayers. He understood
obedience well enough; it involved listening to his elders and doing what they
asked. Like any child raised in a stable, safe environment, he took much for
granted. But he was not yet familiar with the Lord. Perhaps he supposed that
day would come but he could not imagine the sound or the sight, the smell or
the touch that would tell him the Lord is near.
So when the Lord called
him in the middle of the night, as he slept close by the Ark of the Covenant,
in the familiar glow of the sanctuary lamp, he naturally assumed that voice was
the old priest Eli.
Despite his lack of experience
at that tender age, Samuel teaches us the right attitude, “Here I am.” This is
a word we should speak in God’s presence in
season and out. I am ready, eager, willing, alert, and open; I am your handmaid,
footservant, gardener, chauffeur or dog walker; whatever you want, here I am!
I might not “hear” the
voice of God at every moment but that openness invites the Holy Spirit to move in me and I can
always say, “Here I am.” That spirit might astonish me when, in a difficult situation, I know precisely
what to say or not to say. Or I might just
happen to show up at the right time in the right place where my particular presence
is required.
This was not my doing. It was the Lord who opened channels, cleared the traffic, or changed the light and placed me here. I can take no credit for that but I can be grateful that You have made me an instrument of your peace.
This was not my doing. It was the Lord who opened channels, cleared the traffic, or changed the light and placed me here. I can take no credit for that but I can be grateful that You have made me an instrument of your peace.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.