By Grace

1 Samuel 3:1-20

Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.

At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his room; the lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was. Then the Lord called, ‘Samuel! Samuel!’ and he said, ‘Here I am!’ and ran to Eli, and said, ‘Here I am, for you called me.’ But he said, ‘I did not call; lie down again.’ So he went and lay down. The Lord called again, ‘Samuel!’ Samuel got up and went to Eli, and said, ‘Here I am, for you called me.’ But he said, ‘I did not call, my son; lie down again.’ Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him. The Lord called Samuel again, a third time. And he got up and went to Eli, and said, ‘Here I am, for you called me.’ Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, ‘Go, lie down; and if he calls you, you shall say, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” ’ So Samuel went and lay down in his place.

Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, ‘Samuel! Samuel!’ And Samuel said, ‘Speak, for your servant is listening.’ Then the Lord said to Samuel, ‘See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle. On that day I will fulfil against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end. For I have told him that I am about to punish his house for ever, for the iniquity that he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them. Therefore I swear to the house of Eli that the iniquity of Eli’s house shall not be expiated by sacrifice or offering for ever.’

Samuel lay there until morning; then he opened the doors of the house of the Lord. Samuel was afraid to tell the vision to Eli. But Eli called Samuel and said, ‘Samuel, my son.’ He said, ‘Here I am.’ Eli said, ‘What was it that he told you? Do not hide it from me. May God do so to you and more also, if you hide anything from me of all that he told you.’ So Samuel told him everything and hid nothing from him. Then he said, ‘It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.’

As Samuel grew up, the Lord was with him and let none of his words fall to the ground. And all Israel from Dan to Beer-sheba knew that Samuel was a trustworthy prophet of the Lord.

Church, prophets are not popular. Prophets are tasked with giving good news about the future, as well as the bad. It’s no wonder why, throughout the Bible, prophets are either reluctant or oblivious to their call. In the story we just heard, Samuel is both. He’s first oblivious to God’s call, during what I found to be actually a really funny scene: Samuel hearing his name called, running to Eli, “what’s up, you called?” Eli saying, “What? No, go back to bed.” This happening three times, and I’m imagining Samuel getting more and more frustrated and feeling totally crazy, and Eli getting more and more exasperated… until it clicks: “Oh! It’s God who’s calling you!” and then he instructs Samuel on how to correctly answer the call of God. Thanks to his mentor’s instruction, Samuel, at this point, is no longer oblivious—he says exactly what Eli tells him to: “Speak, for your servant is listening.” But when he receives his prophesy—that’s when the reluctance comes.

For a little background, Eli is was a high priest, and he was essentially raising Samuel to follow in his footsteps; Samuel was a gift to his elderly mother Hannah, from God, and so in return, Hannah promised Samuel as a priest, right back to God. So now here is Samuel, tasked with giving his wise mentor the worst news he could possibly receive—that great punishment awaits with no hope of reconciliation. Who wouldn’t be reluctant to give this news? Who wouldn’t be reluctant to speak this kind of truth to someone they loved? Not only someone they loved, but someone who held authority over them. So Samuel laid in there and avoided this truth-telling for as long as he could. And it’s written that “he lay there till morning,” with no mention of sleep—I’m imaging a frightened and grieving Samuel, filled with anxiety and dread, staring at the ceiling with this horrible information bottled up inside. We’ve all been there, haven’t we? Maybe not holding a direct message of God, but we’ve all had those moments, lying in bed, knowing that things are about to change… knowing that you have to give someone some information they won’t like, knowing that times aren’t gonna be easy. Maybe you caught your kid in a lie in you have to ground them... maybe you have to initiate a breakup when you recognize the tragic truth is that something just isn’t work anymore... maybe you feel like you have to try to educate a relative, after a bigoted remark. Whatever the reason, there is no doubt that each and every one of us has experienced this dread, of knowing something we wish we didn’t know… of having to confront someone we love, or someone we’re scared of, or both!

No, I don’t envy Samuel in this situation. But the reason that Samuel goes on to be a great prophet, a literal king-maker of his time, is thanks to Eli’s reaction to Samuel’s reluctant prophesy. When Eli is told that God is about to “punish his house forever,” it’s written that Eli replies, “It is the Lord. Let him do what seems good to him.” It’s this sad, yet calm and thoughtful reaction that allows Samuel the freedom to move on with his life and go into the world as a truth-teller.

Now, there’s plenty to be said about oblivious and reluctant prophets. But there’s also plenty to be said about Eli’s failures, and Eli’s reaction. For a context here, as to what brought about such a brutal punishment from God—Eli’s sons had been taking advantage of their status of priests, and sons of the high priest. They had been committing adulteries by taking advantage of women at the temple, they had been stealing the goods and foods that were at the temple meant as offerings to the Lord. They were, speaking plainly, entitled little jerks, and they were bringing shame to Eli and the priestly line, and per God, Eli had failed as a father because he did not “restrain” his sons. As Eli is written in this passage, he seems to be a good man. He was clearly a wise and kind mentor to Samuel. And while I personally think God’s punishment here is a bit much, and while I personally believe in the all-forgiving, eternally loving God, we all know from the Gospels, I think there is something so important, and so moving in Eli’s response to this grim prophesy. It’s clear to me that Eli knows that messed up. That he knows his sons are entitled little jerks, that he knows they have brought shame upon him and the community and done great harm. And he takes responsibility. He doesn’t argue, he doesn’t defend himself. He trusts in God, and knows he did wrong. And I don’t believe this is any kind of apathetic blind trust either, because compare Eli to Job, who yelled and questioned and cried to God, knowing he did nothing wrong and did not deserve all the suffering he was receiving. Eli was wise, but he was also human, and he failed, and he accepted the consequences of his failure, of his wrongdoing.

Now church, my mind is still very much on the events of January 6th; in the aftermath, I saw several viral videos of some of those insurrectionists, recorded yelling and crying about the fact that they had been put on no-fly lists and couldn’t get home from DC. I couldn’t help but think those folks could have learned a lesson from Eli—that those folks could have taken a step back, a deep breath, engaged in a little bit of introspection and recognized their wrong doing and their punishment. But instead, they were rather like Eli’s sons—entitled and boorish, assuming their status as privileged people in this society would absolve them of their sins, would leave them immune to consequences.

We all have to face difficult truths and consequences sometimes, and ignorant and angry reactions like those in those viral videos, that’s the reason truth-tellers are often reluctant to say their peace. But exposing difficult truths is what made Samuel into a king-maker. And exposing difficult truths is what made Martin Luther King Jr into the civil rights hero he was, but it was also what led to so much vitriol and anger against him. People don’t want to face their mistakes, their sins, with grace and dignity. People don’t want to face this country’s mistakes and sins with humility or introspection.

Something that’s often forgotten about Martin Luther King Jr. is that he was deeply unpopular in his time. In 1966, nearly two thirds of Americans disapproved of the work King was doing. Two thirds! You see, people were okay with King working to end segregation in the south, because segregation in the south was very in-your-face, it was so obviously wrong—but the thing is, King didn’t end there. He traveled north to expose the more accepted, under-the-radar segregation of cities like Chicago—where segregation was technically illegal, but very much still existed, and still does to this day, not just in Chicago, but all over the north, and the northeast. And King was going beyond segregation as well—he was exposing policies and sins of this country that affect all poor people, of every race. Now, we northerners, I think we like to think of ourselves as more enlightened, sometimes. But up here, like the rest of the country, there are practices in place that keep poor folks from being able to actually achieve upward mobility, a better life; these practices are buried and rooted deep into our history, into our laws, so it’s hard to sus out, and harder to expose.  Church, over 1 in 10 people in this country live in poverty. And Vermont is exactly on par with the country as a whole—a little over 1 in 10 people living in poverty here in this state. During his last Sunday sermon before his assassination, Rev. King said, “Yes, we are going to bring the tired, the poor, the huddled masses… we are coming to demand the government address itself to the issue of poverty.” It was at this time that Rev. King was starting his Poor People’s Campaign to expose the plight of all poor Americans, all poor people, of every race, suffering in poverty. And this, church, was deeply unpopular. Because for people like us, up here in New England, it meant we could no longer shake our heads and tsk-tsk the South and say, “Well, at least we don’t do that.” Because we, up here in Vermont have to face the unpleasant truths that we are part of the problem, that we have over 10% of our population in our beautiful, idyllic state living in poverty. These are things we don’t want to face, and these are things prophets don’t want to have to tell us, but this is something God has blessed and burdened them with.

And these were the kind of unpleasant truths King moved on to expose in his day, and these were the kinds of truths that made people angry. Prophets are tasked with exposing ugly truths to the masses—truths that sometimes put people to shame, warnings of grim visions of the future, if we do not work together to fight poverty, to fight the deep rot white supremacy and division of this country. The Rev. King surely took no joy in exposing these truths. I imagine Rev. King in his bed at night, staring at the ceiling like Samuel, dreading what the responses will be to his prophesies. If only all of us, upon receiving bad news, receiving difficult truths, could be as humble and understanding as Eli. If only we could all hold ourselves accountable to our contributions to the modern day sins of this world.

Martin Luther King day is a good time to take a long, hard look at ways we might contribute to the evils of this world, to this society that ignores and exploits the poor, the oppressed. Because we’re all guilty, and we don’t want to face it.

Eli realized that in being too lenient with his sons, he let a cycle of exploitation and harm go on enough that God promised to punish his whole family forever. It was a failure he had to face and own up to. Now church, no, I don’t think God will punish any of us for our individual failures. But I still think we all need to learn from Eli and be held accountable for our actions, and in turn, we need to empower truth-tellers like Samuel to go out and keep prophesying, to keep exposing unpleasant truths. What happens when prophets are ignored? What happens when prophets are scoffed at, and are, quite literally, shot down? What happens when truth is shot down? What happens when we don’t own up to our failures? As individuals? As a nation?

Church, I think over this past week and a half, we saw what happens when prophets are ignored, when truth is ignored. We saw what happens when we are too lenient with those privileged few. So we can learn from Eli in two ways—first of all, we can learn to admit to and take responsibility for our respective and collective failures. But second, thanks to the grace of God, and the love of Jesus, we can work to fix it. We don’t have to resign ourselves to be punished forever, with no hope for our inaction, for our complicity. We can work to make Martin Luther King Jr’s dream come true, still. We can work to right the wrongs of this nation, and by the grace of God, we will.

Church, I’m asking you, as we move forward from today, as we so anxiously and desperately move forward from this era of insurrections and pandemics, this era of lies and chaos, I’m asking you all to take risks. I’m asking you all to be a truth-teller, to be honest with yourselves and with each other. And when we’re confronted with hard truths, let us be like Eli, and accept responsibility, and move forward with dignity and humility. And let us move forward in order that we make Martin Luther King’s dream a reality. Listen to the prophets. Listen to truth. When you hear God’s call, open your mind and your heart to the risky and often unpopular work of justice; open your mind and your heart to the risky and often unpopular work of Jesus, for they are one in the same. Open yourself up and say, “Speak. For your servant is listening.” And by the Grace of God, we will. Amen.