When the Word of the Lord Was Rare

The first verse of 1 Samuel 3 describes a spiritual climate. In those days the word of the Lord was rare. There were not many visions. The lamp of God had not yet gone out, which is to say it was late in the night, the oil was low, and the sanctuary was quiet. Eli's eyes were growing dim, and the text means more than his physical sight. The priest could not see. The nation could not hear. And a boy was lying down in the temple near the ark.

Then the Lord spoke, and the one he spoke to did not recognise him. Samuel had ministered before the Lord for years by this point, but the narrator says plainly that he did not yet know the Lord, because the word had not yet been revealed to him. Serving in the sanctuary and knowing God's voice are not the same thing. That was Eli's tragedy, and it could have been Samuel's, except that God kept calling.

Four times, patiently, until the boy was ready. That patience is worth noticing. God did not give up after the first misunderstanding, or the second. He stood there, the text says, and called as before. And when Samuel finally answered, the message was terrible. Judgment on Eli's house, so severe that the ears of everyone who hears it will tingle. Samuel lay there until morning afraid to say it. Eli made him tell everything, and received it with a kind of broken submission. It is the Lord; let him do what is good in his eyes.

By the end of the chapter, the word of the Lord is no longer rare. All Israel from Dan to Beersheba knows that Samuel is a prophet, and the Lord continues to appear at Shiloh, revealing himself through his word. The silence has broken. It broke not through the official channels, which were corrupt, but through a child who learned to say, speak.

There are seasons in a life, and in a church, when the word of the Lord feels rare. The lamp is low. The people meant to see are dim-eyed. If you are in such a season, take two things from this chapter. God has not stopped calling. And the way the silence ends is usually not dramatic. Someone lies down near the ark and, when the voice comes, answers it.