It was one of the darkest times in their history. The saddest of days.The most bereft they’d been in recent memory. The heavens were silent. God wasn’t speaking. Not in verbiage. Not in visions. No one seemed to notice. The people weren’t listening. They hadn’t been for a long time. They were too busy with other pursuits. Ungodly pastimes. Unchecked evil. Unhindered corruption. Unbridled sin was the order of the day. For everyone. Including the priests. His very own sons. He’d talked with them. Pointed out the error of their ways. Warned them of God’s wrath. Hinted they should change. Hoped they would. It hadn’t happened. Nothing had changed. Neither priests nor people seemed concerned about the heavenly silence. Content to slide deeper into their moral and spiritual decline, they failed to notice the resonating voice of God no longer penetrated their sin-saturated hearts. (I Samuel 3:1)
Eli wasn’t getting messages from God either. Not anything recent, anyway. Since the condemning prophecy against himself and his sons, the heavens were silent, a brass sky over a gloomy existence. The decision concerning his family line was made. There was nothing left to say. God had spoken. He wasn’t prone to changing His mind. Because nothing had changed on earth, Eli was certain nothing had changed in Heaven. Destruction was coming. He knew it. Heard it in the lines of conversation rolling over and over in his mind as he rested his aging, exhausted self in the usual place. The ramifications of their choices weighed on his spirit. The coming onslaught of consequences saddened his heart. The fact he hadn’t done enough to quell the evil nosedive plagued his conscience. As his eyes slid shut and sleep began to overtake him, he idly wondered what would happen to the boy in his care. (I Samuel 2:12-36)
How well he remembered the day Hannah had desperately sought the Lord for a child. He’d never forget it. Anguish etched across her face. A torrent of tears rained down her cheeks. Her lips moved at a frenetic pace. At first he’d believed her inebriated and made his way to sternly confront the woman, considering a possible ejection necessary. Instead, he’d found a completely sober, deeply broken woman pleading with God to answer her prayers. Compassion welled in Eli’s heart. Kindness flowed from his lips in words that asked God to grant whatever it was she so urgently desired. Little did he know the answer to her prayer then would be the key to unlocking God’s voice now. Yet it seemed it was so. (I Samuel 1:9-17)
Three times the child for which Hannah had prayed rushed to his bedside tonight. He’d heard a voice. Genuinely believed it was Eli’s. Came running to his side, eager to help. Except it wasn’t Eli. Failing though his memory was, he knew with absolute certainty he hadn’t called the boy. Had no idea what he was doing there. Was fairly certain he’d been mid-snore when the child awakened him. The first time. He had just started to drift off when he arrived the second time. When Samuel arrived the third time, Eli had an epiphany. Finally. God was speaking. Calling out to Samuel. Deigning to speak for the first time in a very long time. And Eli badly wanted to know what He had to say.
Before sending the boy back to bed, Eli gave him strict instructions. The next time he heard his name called, there would be no need to come running back. Eli wasn’t calling him. Wouldn’t be calling him. God was calling. It was imperative for Samuel to answer. Immediately. In words indicating his undivided attention and readiness to receive the message. “Speak, Lord. Your servant is listening.” Right now. I recognize Your voice. I know who You are. I understand the message you have to give is of utmost importance. My ears are strictly tuned to hear your voice. I am your servant. And I. Am. Listening.
It was crucial for Samuel to answer. Say exactly what he had been told to say. When God called again, Samuel needed to respond in a way that allowed God to speak. A way that welcomed His words. Samuel needed to listen. Hearing God call him was not enough. Knowing God was speaking wouldn’t suffice. Samuel needed to listen. Intently. Intentionally. Memorize the words. Take notes if necessary. Not one word should be left to possible misinterpretation. When God called Samuel again–and He most assuredly would–the boy needed to answer. “Speak, Lord. I. Am. Listening.” And he did. (I Samuel 3:1-9)
Lying on his mat, silently staring at the ceiling, Samuel waited for the voice to call again. He didn’t move. He barely breathed. Eli had ensured he understood the abject importance of this task. He absolutely didn’t want to miss the moment if God called his name again. He wasn’t disappointed. God didn’t just call. He came. Stood there in that space. Called Samuel by name. And Samuel heard His voice. This time there was no confusion. No jumping up and running to Eli. No misunderstandings. No misgivings. Samuel was ready for it. Waiting for it. He heard God’s voice the very moment He called. Recognized it. Responded with confidence. I. Am. Listening. (I Samuel 3:10-11)
Having read the message imparted by God and Samuel’s hesitance to repeat it to Eli. It stands to reason, the words Samuel heard were not exactly what he thought they would be. They didn’t match what he hoped God would say. It wasn’t a message of hope and forgiveness. But it was a moment. A gateway moment in which Samuel proved that when God spoke he would hear His voice and he would listen, absorb the message, speak it to the one for whom it was intended. He wouldn’t shirk his duty. He would hear. He would listen. He would share the words of God with the people God had chosen to be His own. Easy words. Hard words. Words of encouragement. Words of rebuke. God’s message to God’s people. Through Samuel. Because he was listening. (I Samuel 3:12-21)
There’s a significant difference between hearing and listening. Hearing often lacks the intentionality of listening. It can be accidental, casual. It is often inattentive, disinterested. Listening, on the other hand, speaks of interest, investment, and importance. It is indicative of your level of care concerning the subject. And the speaker. Your respect for the speaker is evident in whether you distractedly hear them or actively listen to them. Friends. Co-workers. Family. God. Yes. God. He is still speaking. To you. Often. Words of wisdom. Gentle direction. Careful warning. Boundless love. If you are listening, you will hear Him. (John 10:27-28)
Unfortunately for us, there are so many voices sounding off around us that it sometimes becomes difficult to hear God speak. They aren’t all bad voices, either. Some of them have nothing but love and good intentions toward you. Admittedly, others wish only to see you cut off at the knees. It doesn’t matter. You can’t fully rely on mortal voices alone. Why? Because no person’s voice can replace the true voice of God. No human wisdom can supersede the wisdom of God. No mortal thought or reasoning will ever trump the mind of God. You can get all your advice from the finite mind of a pastor, teacher, brother, friend. It might work for you. It might not. The only advice that will ever work and never fail is the word you get from God when you are absolutely, intentionally listening. (Matthew 7:24; James 1:5; 3:17; Romans 11:33; Isaiah 40:6-8; 55:8-9; I Corinthians 3:19)
So are you? Are you listening? To God. As the world around us sits in the exact same deplorable, sinful, debauched state it was in Eli’s day, we are blessed by the fact that God is still speaking. In spite of an egregiously wilful society, recklessly and happily headed for destruction, God has not shut up the heavens. He still has things to say. To us. To me. To you. Just as He did to Samuel, in the middle of the chaos, God is calling you to hear His voice, respond to His call, be still in that space, and listen. Attentively. Intentionally. Absorb the message God has for you. His direction. His wisdom. His discipline. His love. Share the message as applicable. Encourage someone else with His words. Caution others with His warnings. Spread the news of His love and mercy and grace. Refuse to trade your active listening for passive hearing. When God calls your name, may your response echo that of Samuel. “Yes, Lord. I. Am. Listening.” (Psalm 119:105; Isaiah 30:21; John 8:47; 16:13; Luke 11:28; Psalm 85:8)
Sometimes I only hear what someone is saying to me, other times more intentionally. I pray I would be a better listener and more, much more intentionally.
Thank you for this convicting message!
Hi Naomi, I’m guessing you had been watching the news when you wrote the following: “They were too busy with other pursuits. Ungodly pastimes. Unchecked evil. Unhindered corruption. Unbridled sin was the order of the day.” And it is indeed extremely difficult for most to listen to that “still small voice.” The cacophony of sounds, voices, messages, and sound bites are designed to distract, divert, and discourage. I have a sermon earlier in the year about being wary of the actions of “d” words. The Devil likes and uses the to draw us away from the still small voice: He will not shout, will not resort to the modern techniques that draw us away, but if we’re listening . . . Thanks for your continued listening and sharing the insights He gives you. Grace and Peace to all the Meyers’.