1 Samuel 3:1-10
Rev. Caela Simmons Wood
First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS
November 2, 2025 - All Saints’ Day
All Saints’ Day is a time set aside for giving thanks for those that we have loved and lost. And it’s a time to pause and consider our own mortality. How do we want to be remembered someday? What gifts do we want to share with the world while we’re still living?
As I told the kids, the customs that have grown up around All Hallows’ mean it’s also a time for imagining ourselves into stories. And so, I want to tell you a very old story on this All Saints’ Sunday. This story is about connections between the generations and the way we mentor others in faith. It’s a story about growing up in our faith. It’s a story about how the veil between this world and the next is often thinner than we might realize. And it’s a story about the power of listening - to the Spirit and to each other.
The night is quiet. The boy is about 10 years old. He’s curled up there on his sleeping mat, just near the front of the sanctuary, next to the Lamp of God. The scene reminds me a bit of when I was a little girl and I loved to fall asleep by the Christmas tree in December. Warm light, silent night, and a feeling of holiness as I drifted off to sleep.
Why is a child sleeping in the sanctuary? Well, this isn’t just any child, nor is it just any sanctuary. We’re in Shiloh, about 30 miles north of Jerusalem. Shiloh’s claim to fame is right here next to the sleeping boy. Long before Jerusalem was the home to the Temple, this was the most sacred site for our faith ancestors. This is where the Ark of the Covenant lives. In fact, the boy sleeps near it every night. The Ark of the Covenant represents the presence of God with the Israelites. When the Israelites wandered in the wilderness, they carried the Ark with them. When their wandering finally stopped, it came to rest here in the sanctuary at Shiloh.
Why is a child sleeping in the sanctuary? For this particular boy, it might not be just because of the Ark and the Lamp. This sanctuary holds additional meaning for the boy. This sanctuary is the place where his mother, Hannah, came a decade ago to pray for God’s help. She desperately wanted a child and, through her tears, she promised God that if she had a child she would dedicate his life to the service of God. Eli, the priest at Shiloh, had seen Hannah praying that day and offered her a blessing before she left the temple. In this way, Eli had been in the child’s life before he was even conceived.
After his birth, Hannah rejoiced. She named him Samuel which means “I have asked him of the Lord.” And when he was old enough to be weaned, Hannah kept her word to God. She brought Samuel to the temple at Shiloh and gave him to Eli’s care, so that he could learn the faith and, eventually, become a priest himself.
And that’s why this particular child is sleeping in this particular sanctuary.
The story goes that, in this time, God’s voice was hard to hear. Surely God was still speaking, but maybe the people just didn’t notice. We are told that the priest Eli was growing older and couldn’t see as well as he used to. Perhaps this was more than just his physical eyesight. Maybe it was his spiritual attunement, too.
And just who is this priest, Eli? Our faith ancestors who wrote these stories down didn’t hold back with their critiques of bad leaders, so we can assume that no news was mostly good news. Eli had been a trusted leader of the people and, it seems, a good mentor for the young Samuel. There was just one small problem. Two, actually.
Eli’s sons Phinneas and Hophni were a concern. Despite the decency of their father, these two had grown into an indecent problem. They had grown a bit too comfortable in the Temple. Instead of treating their access to this sacred space with respect, they took advantage of their privileges to a gross extent. They skimmed money off the top of the offering plates and slept with the women who worked in the temple. Eli heard about these things and chastised his sons - but the abuses of power continued.
Things were going better with Samuel. Perhaps Eli was teaching him more carefully than he had his own sons. Samuel seems to have been growing into a fine young man - making both his parents and Eli proud.
And so I suppose it’s not too surprising that when God spoke Samuel’s name that night, he heard it loud and clear. At first he didn’t know what he was hearing. Despite his priestly upbringing, Samuel didn’t yet know God personally. Everything he had learned so far had been filtered through the lens of his elders.
Surely his mother Hannah, who had prayed so earnestly at his birth, taught him to pray as a young child. We don’t know much about Samuel’s father, but we do know that he managed to take his family on an annual religious pilgrimage to Shiloh, so we can assume he also cared deeply about his son’s religious formation.
And we know that Samuel must have spent countless hours being apprenticed in the ways of the priesthood by Eli, his mentor. The priest taught the boy the old stories and helped him learn how to preside over the rituals. He taught him the arts of speaking carefully and listening well. He taught him how to be judicious and kind. He taught him how to not only answer questions, but ask good ones, too.
Like any teacher, Eli made mistakes from time to time. Perhaps wasn’t as enthusiastic as he could have been about the more difficult parts of their shared calling. But he treasured the opportunity to have a student. He had not done as well as he had hoped with his sons. He tried, but ultimately failed, to share with them his passion for God but they went astray. And so he was particularly grateful for this second chance with Samuel. The boy had been an answer to Hannah’s prayer, but he felt a bit like the answer to Eli’s unspoken prayers, too.
As the years continued to pass, Eli realized that Samuel was a blessing in other ways, as well. They had been through the rituals so many times now that Samuel could probably even lead them himself if he had to, and someday he would. And just last week, he had seen Samuel telling a little girl about the ten commandments etched on the tablets. As she asked questions, Samuel answered them patiently and correctly. Eli’s heart swelled with pride.
Samuel was a blessing in more practical ways, too. As Eli’s eyesight continued to fade, the boy began taking on more duties around the temple. At the end of the day, Eli no longer had to straighten the sanctuary or check on the lamps. It was hard for him to see in the dark, and so Samuel had taken over all these tasks and he handled them beautifully.
And so it was that on this particular night, when Samuel crept into Eli’s room, Eli was surprised. It had been years since the child had interrupted his sleep asking for reassurance or another blanket to stay warm. He was so big now. Almost grown. He hardly needed anything from the old man.
But on this particular night, Eli realized he had at least one more lesson to teach the boy. He hadn’t realized that - despite all his book learning, despite the hours of practical education in what it takes to be a priest - Samuel had never heard God’s voice before. When he realized what was happening, he gently told the boy to go back into the sanctuary and listen again. “This time,” he said, “When you hear your name, respond, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’ Listening is such an important part of being a leader, Samuel. Listen to what the Lord has to say to you. And never be afraid to follow the instructions given.”
Samuel did as his mentor taught him. He lay down once more on his sleeping mat in the darkened sanctuary. The Lamp of God was still burning. The Ark was still right where it should be. And if he listened to the silence hard enough, he could almost hear the sounds of a young woman’s whispered prayers and tears.
Laying there, Samuel remembered all that his elders had taught him. He remembered the words of the song his mother used to sing to him as a young child, “God raises up the poor from the dust; God lifts the needy from the ash heap to make them sit with royalty and inherit a seat of honor.”
He remembered the sweat on his father’s brow as he loaded up the cart each year to make the long journey to Shiloh.
And he remembered the hours he had spent with his mentor, Eli, learning everything he needed to know to grow into the priest he would become.
Full of the faith of his elders, he opened himself to the silence and waited.
