¹ Gnuse, Robert Karl, The Dream Theophany of Samuel: Its Structure in Relation to Ancient Near Eastern Dreams and Its Theological Significance (University Press of America: Lanham, 1984)Google Scholar. Gnuse summarizes his thesis in ZAW 94 (1982), 379–390.Google Scholar

² Dream Theophany, 1.

³ Brueggemann, Walter, First and Second Samuel (Interpretation Bible Commentary; John Knox Press: Louisville, 1990), 25.Google Scholar

⁴ Samuel, 25, 28.

⁵ For a useful overview of the text-critical problems, see Gnuse, , Dream Theophany, 119–130Google Scholar. The modern literature on the textual history of the books of Samuel is extensive.

⁶ See e.g. Batten, L. W., ‘The Sanctuary at Shiloh, and Samuel's Sleeping Therein’, JBL 19 (1900), 29–33Google Scholar; Gordon, Robert P., 1 & 2 Samuel: A Commentary (Paternoster: Exeter, 1986), 89.Google Scholar

⁷ Habel, N., ‘The Form and Significance of the Call Narratives’, ZAW 77 (1965), 297–323Google Scholar omits 1 Sam. 3 from consideration, while Richter, W., Die sogenannten vorprophetischen Berufungsberichte FRLANT 101 (Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht: Gōttingen, 1970), 174fGoogle Scholar argues that 1 Sam. 3 is an account not of a call but of a first prophetic experience. On the other hand, Newman, M., ‘The Prophetic Call of Samuel’ in Anderson, B. W. & Harrelson, W. (ed.), Israel's Prophetic Heritage (FSJ. Muilenburg) (London, 1962), 86–97Google Scholar takes for granted that 1 Sam. 3 depicts a call, and Simon, Uriel, ‘Samuel's Call to Prophecy: Form Criticism with Close Reading’, Prooftexts 1 (1981), 119–132Google Scholar offers an interesting discussion of how the text can indeed be understood as a call.

⁸ In the light of the current debate about the propriety of using a masculine pronoun to refer to the deity, I use a capitalized form to make the point that terms of masculine gender, when applied to the deity, have a significance different from that which they have in their application to human beings. The fact that such capitalized usage is also an ancient reverential tradition is also for me a significant, though in this context secondary, consideration.

⁹ There is perhaps something to be said for Fokkelman's, J. P. sharply-worded conclusion that ‘Chapter 3 is a story about being called, but it resists being placed on a Procrustean bed of genre regulations or being subjected to the rigid rules of the Formgeschichle’ (Narrative Art and Poetry in the Books of Samuel, Vol. IV: Vow and Desire [Van Gorcum: Assen, 1993], 193).Google Scholar

¹⁰ See e.g. Cody, A., A History of Old Testament Priesthood (Analecta Biblica 35; Pontifical Biblical Institute: Rome, 1969), 65–80Google Scholar; Miller, John W., The Origins of the Bible: Rethinking Canon History (Paulist: New York, 1994Google Scholar) suggestively relates the history of priesthood in Israel to questions of canon formation.

¹¹ See e.g. Gnuse, , Dream Theophany, 186–196 for an overview.Google Scholar

¹² Debates as to whether 1 Sam. 1–3 (in some form) may have once been part of an independent ‘Samuel source’ which may have had an antimonarchical stance are of limited value. On the one hand they are inescapably hypothetical to a high degree and incapable of either confirmation or refutation. On the other hand, even if for the sake of argument one granted the existence of such a source, this would only be indicative of the tradition at an early stage of its existence prior to its incorporation into its present wider narrative context, and would say nothing about the way in which this wider context gives its own significance to its individual units.

¹³ See the convenient tabular presentation in Gnuse, , Dream Theophany, 77.Google Scholar

¹⁴ Dream Theophany, 141.

¹⁵ See e.g. Watson, Wilfred G. E., ‘The Structure of 1 Sam 3’, BZ 29 (1985), 90–93Google Scholar. here 90–91; so too NEB, REB.

¹⁶ Dream Theophany, 142.

¹⁷ Dream Theophany, 140–41.

¹⁸ Dream Theophany, 1.

¹⁹ Commentators not infrequently take it for granted that the text depicts incubation; e.g. Nowack, W., Richter, Ruth und Bücher Samuelis HKAT (Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht: Gōttingen, 1902), 18.Google Scholar

²⁰ So Jer. 23:25.

²¹ Gnuse, , Dream Theophany, 38.Google Scholar

²² McAlpine, T. H., Sleep, Divine & Human in the Old Testament JSOTS 38 (JSOT Press: Sheffield, 1987), 161.Google Scholar

²³ Lang, Bernhard, ‘Israelitische Prophetie und Rollenpsychologie’ in Gladigow, B. & Kippenberg, H. G. (ed.), Neue Ansätze in der Religionswissenschaft Forum Religionswissenschaft, Bd.4 (Kōsel-Verlag: Munich, 1983), 175–197, here 180.Google Scholar

²⁴ Gnuse, , Dream Theophany, 154Google Scholar; cf. McAlpine, , Sleep, 159.Google Scholar

²⁵ There is either a paraphrase or miscellaneous comments in recent commentaries: Gordon, , 1 & 2 Samuel, 88fGoogle Scholar; McCarter, P. Kyle, I Samuel AB (Doubleday: Garden City, NY, 1980), 98fGoogle Scholar; Klein, Ralph W., I Samuel (Word BC 10; Word: Waco, 1983), 31Google Scholar; Brueggemann, , First and Second Samuel, 25.Google Scholar

²⁶ Caspari, W., DieSamuelbücher KAT (Deichertsche: Leipzig, 1926), 51.Google Scholar

²⁷ Klein, , I Samuel, 31, 33Google Scholar; cf. Newman, , ‘Prophetic Call’, 86.Google Scholar

²⁸ Licht, J., Storytelling in the Bible (Magnes: Jerusalem, 1978), 54.Google Scholar

²⁹ Dream Theophany, 145.

³⁰ Eslinger, Lyle M., Kingship of God in Crisis: A Close Reading of 1 Samuel 1–12 (Almond: Sheffield, 1985), 150.Google Scholar

³¹ Polzin, Robert, Samuel and the Deuteronomist: A Literary Study of the Deuteronomic History, Part Two; 1 Samuel (Harper & Row: San Francisco, 1989), 49f.Google Scholar

³² ‘I am suggesting, therefore, that these early stories about the fall of the house of Eli and the rise of Samuel, in addition to having inherent interest in themselves, form a kind of parabolic introduction to the Deuteronomic history of kingship. Both Eli's house and its successor, Samuel's house, like the rich man in Nathan's parable, are stand-ins for royalty, especially David's.’ (Polzin, , Samuel, 44.)Google Scholar

³⁵ Fokkelman, J. P., Narrative Art, 167.Google Scholar

³⁴ This is in no way to question the divine initiative in self-revelation, which is axiomatic both for scripture and for the faiths rooted in scripture. The point is whether the wording ‘only from God’ does justice to the necessary human engagement in the process of receiving and discerning that which is from God. As B. Lang puts it, ‘Charisma und Tradition sind im prophetischen Beruf miteinan der verbunden und verzahnt und ertragen keine ideallypische Differenzierung’ (‘Prophetie’, 197).

³⁵ Helpful for the development of our own thesis is the comment ofjacques Briend on v.7b: ‘La précision est destinée au lecteur pour l'avertir qu'il s'agit ici d'un type de connaissance très particulier. En effet Samuel connaît d'une certaine manière le Seigneur; il le connaît par sa famille, spécialement par sa mère, par Eli qui a dû l'instruire, par le culte auquel il participe à Silo. Mais, ce que Samuel ne connaît pas, c'est la façon dont Dieu se communique à une personne par une parole directe’ (Dieu dans I'Ecriture [Lectio Divina 150; Cerf: Paris, 1992], 51–68, here 58).Google Scholar

³⁶ cf. Driver, S. R., Notes on the Hebrew Text and the Topography of the Books of Samuel (2nd ed., Clarendon: Oxford, 1913), 42.Google Scholar

³⁷ This is widely recognized: e.g. Bourke, J., ‘Samuel and the Ark: A Study in Contrasts’, Dominican Studies 7 (1954), 73–103Google Scholar, here 85; Wicke, D. W., ‘The Structure of 1 Sam. 3: Another View’, BZ 30 (1986), 256–258Google Scholar, here 257; Eslinger, , Kingship, 149fGoogle Scholar; Polzin, , Samuel, 49Google Scholar; Fokkelman, , Narrative, 160Google Scholar. The recognition is not, however, universal. W. Nowack, comments that Eli's blindness ‘hat schwerlich zugleich symbolische Bedeutung’ (Samuelis, 18) and suggests that it is only mentioned to give Samuel a reason for thinking that Eli might need help; cf. McCarter, , I Samuel, 98.Google Scholar

³⁸ von Rad, G., Old Testament Theology I (SCM: London, 1965, 1975), 237.Google Scholar

³⁹ See e.g. Gordon, , Samuel, 88–89Google Scholar. Yarden, L. offers an interesting hypothesis, based upon comparative iconography, about the pre-exilic, pre-P, origins of the menorah in relation to the shrine at Bethel (‘Aaron, Bethel, and the Priestly Menorah’, JJS 26 (1975), 39–47, here 45f).CrossRefGoogle Scholar

⁴⁰ The term na'ar is non-specific with regard to age, but it is clear that Samuel is still a youth, not yet an adult. Naturally enough, in some Jewish tradition Samuel is said to be twelve years old, the age of bar mitzvah, when the transition is made from a child's to an adult's standing before God (Josephus, AJV.10.4).

⁴¹ The Varieties of Religious Experience: A Study in Human Nature (repr. Collins: London, 1977)Google Scholar. James polarizes institutional and personal religion (e.g. p. 48) and says, for example, that his concern is with ‘a true record of the inner experiences of great-souled persons wrestling with the crisesof their fate’ and ‘I speak not now of your ordinary religious believer, who follows the conventional observances of his country, whether it be Buddhist, Christian, or Mohammedan. His religion has been made for him by others, communicated to him by tradition, determined to fixed forms by imitation, and retained by habit. It would profit us little to study this second-hand religious life’ (pp.28, 29).

⁴² Micklem, N. in Eiselen, F. C., Lewis, E. & Downey, D. G. (ed.), The Abingdon Bible Commentary (Epworth: London, 1929), 385.Google Scholar

⁴³ Cf. n.23. It is a pity that Lang's valuable discussion of the social and psychological dimensions within the formation of a prophetic role does not also engage with the theological dimensions of that process.

⁴⁴ When an abbreviated version of this paper was read to the Society for Old Testament Study at Oxford in January 1995, several senior scholars confessed themselves ‘unpersuaded’ by my thesis, especially that the voice of God sounds initially like the voice of Eli. But no-one has yet proposed to me an alternative interpretation which makes better sense of the text.

Another comment has been that my thesis involves ‘psychologizing’ and ‘such psychologizing of the situation could produce other explanations’. Whether ‘psychologizing’ is self-evidently a questionable procedure is arguable. I would prefer, in any case, to say that what matters is to take the text with total imaginative seriousness.

Further, it was observed that ‘when God begins to divulge his plans to Samuel we have to imagine either that he uses a different voice or that he details to Samuel in Eli's voice the disasters that are to befall Eli's house — which is difficult to imagine, and suggests that the question is not one that needs to be asked”. This illuminatingly skews the issues in two ways. On the one hand, the nature of the voice in which God speaks in 3:11–14 is indeed not a question to be asked, but that is simply because the story is not interested in it any longer at that point, having focused on it in vv.4–10; by v. 11 the issue of Samuel's inability to hear rightly has been resolved. On the other hand, spiritual discernment is a relational issue in which the nature of God's voice is not separable from the nature of Samuel's response. The point is not whether God's voice still sounds like Eli's after Samuel's recognition (as though the voice were fully independent of Samuel and unchanging), but that Samuel's perception has changed so that he can now hear the voice of God as the voice of God; once Samuel can hear God as God the question of what God's voice ‘sounds like’ becomes irrelevant, both imaginatively and theologically.

⁴⁵ Polzin, (Samuel, 52)Google Scholar relates Samuel's omission of the divine name to wider issues about communication between humanity and God. But the particular way in which he formulates the issue, with reference to the theological problems posed by the exile of lsrael, of which he treats 1 Sam. 3 as essentially a code (‘Direct dialogue with an explicit LORD [v.10 in relation to v.9] is not part of the picture. Are there hints here of a postexilic situation?’), entirely misses the logic of the omission within its own immediate context.

⁴⁶ Simon, Uriel, ‘Samuel's Call to Prophecy: Form Criticism with Close Reading’, Prooftexts 1 (1981), 119–132, here 129Google Scholar; Brueggemann, , Samuel 26Google Scholar; Hertzberg, H. W., I & II Samuel (OTL; SCM: London, 1964), 42Google ScholarPubMed. But Eslinger, , Kingship, 154f is an exception.Google Scholar

⁴⁷ For classic formulations of the principle, see e.g. Jer. 18:1–12, Ezek. 33:10–16, and for a narrative outworking of the principle, see esp.Jon. 3, where the people of Nineveh, led by their king, are a model of repentance in response to a message of judgment.

⁴⁸ It is unclear whether ya'aseh should be construed as imperfect, ‘He will do,’ or jussive, ‘Let Him do.’ Gen. 41:34 & Jer. 28:6 are two clear examples of ya'aseh as jussive (I am indebted to Dr. A. Gelston for these references). Although the jussive could envisage a more engaged response by Eli, I do not think it would significantly affect the main contention that Eli is using right-sounding religious language without an appropriately corresponding attitude or action.

⁴⁹ Probably also 2 Sam. 10:12 / / 1 Chron. 19:13. Where the reference is to past action, as in 2 Kgs 20:3 / / Isa. 38:3, the dynamics of the idiom are different, as it is no longer giving permission for action whose outcome is uncertain and beyond the speaker's control.

⁵⁰ On this episode, see the acute analysis by Brichto, Herbert, Toward a Grammar of Biblical Poetics: Tales of the Prophets (OUP: New York' Oxford, 1992), 57–59.Google Scholar

⁵¹ There is, of course, a close parallel in the possible usage of the words of the Lord's Prayer, ‘Your will be done’ (Matt. 6:10). The words can be used as part of an alldemanding struggle to align oneself with, and appropriate for oneself, the will of God, as demonstrated by Jesus in Gethsemane (Matt. 26:39, 42); or they can be used as a more or less casual or resigned wish which requires nothing of the speaker, as in some common usage. One can only tell the difference by attending to the context and corollaries of the words.

⁵² For many a reader imaginative sympathy with Eli is a natural response to the story, not least because a person with both genuine faith and serious limitations is such a readily recognizable character in every generation.

⁵³ The thesis of this paper would probably not have been surprising to many premodern readers whose interest in the biblical text was closely related to concern with the dynamics of the life of faith. For example, a midrash on the call of Moses is a fine example of an imaginative narrative theology which probes the dynamics of divinehuman encounter in a way not dissimilar to our present text: ‘Rabbi Joshua ha-Kohen, son of Nehemiah, said: When the Holy One, blessed be He, revealed Himself to Moses, Moses was a novice at prophecy. The Holy One, blessed be He, said, “If I appear to him with a loud voice, I will frighten him. If I appear to him with a soft voice, he will scorn prophecy.” What did the Holy One, blessed be He, do? He revealed Himself to him with his father's voice. Moses said, “Here I am. What does father want?” God replied, “I am notyour father, but the God of your father. I have come to you alluringly [Hebrew bptuy is difficult] in order not to frighten you.”“ (Exodus Rabbah 3:1.)

⁵⁴ Jacques Briend is suggestive in his all too brief concluding reflections on this story: ‘Le récit est surtout admirable par sa manière de dire le discernement de Dieu et de sa parole. En effet les trois premiers appels sont un procédé littéraire où l'élément variant se trouve dans la parole prononcée par Eli. Ce precédé signifie, à la différence de ce qui se passe dans les récits de vocation, que Dieu ne s'impose pas, bien qu'il ait l'initiative, et que Samuel n'a pas recherché cette communication avec Dieu. Bien plus, Dieu parle dans le silence, an plus intime de celui qu'il appelle; on ne doit pasici se laisser egarer par le récit. La triple réaction de Samuel qui court aupres de Eli qui n'a rien entendu est à cet égard remarquable. Dieu parle à Pintime, telle est l'experience nouvelle de Samuel, qui n'est pas a confondre avec l'expérience ordinaire de la foi ou encore avec ses manifestations legitimes comme la priere ou la liturgie. Un redacteur le rappelle au lecteur (v.7). II s‘agit bien d'une expérience de revelation.’ (Dial [n.35], 67.)