1 Samuel 1-3: Our Divine Calling

The two-volume book of Samuel presents a history of the three legendary kings who ruled over a united Israelite monarchy: Saul, David, and Solomon.  In the story, Samuel is a prophet, both in the sense of proclaiming God's message and in the sense of being a seer.  He is directly involved in placing both Saul and David on the throne.  Before we get to the kings themselves, however, the mythical story of Samuel is recounted.  Born as a result of fervent prayer, Samuel is raised by a priest, Eli, whose sons are an embarrassment to their holy stations.  Even Eli seems to be so far removed from sincere and authentic ministry that he has a difficult time telling the difference between drunkenness and prayer.  At least he eventually recognizes that Samuel is hearing a calling from the Lord and not just dreaming, otherwise the story may have been much shorter.

In Samuel's origin story, his dedication is contrasted to the behavior of Eli's sons, who are self-serving and indulgent to the extreme.  For some, this out-of-control self-indulgence is the image conjured when they consider looking within themselves to find Truth.  If everyone did that, they believe, the world would collapse into selfish violence and disregard for others, because everyone would believe whatever they liked.  This is an understandable fear, especially when some prominent belief systems teach that people are rotten and broken and need some outside supernatural assistance just to hold society together.  And yet, a quick glance at the world suggests that people already twist prominent belief systems to suit their own self-interest.  Against the teachings of their own holy books, they justify violence, bigotry, and oppression as it suits them.  What keeps people from self-indulgence at the expense of other people is not an imposed set of rules, because those rules are easily twisted and broken.

Although it's easy to look at the caricatures of Eli's sons and see them as vaudeville-style villains, it's important to remember that all self-indulgence, violence, bigotry, and oppression is based ultimately on fear.  Eli's sons are no different from a lot of people today, afraid that they will suffer if they don't take what they want by force.  They abuse their position as a way of addressing their fears about their lives and their identities.  The pattern of bullying in which they engage is a symptom of profound, unaddressed fear that has taken over their beliefs and runs the majority of their lives.  We don't know what that fear may have been, but based on our own internal dialogue, we could probably guess a great portion of it.

That fear is not what people find when they look within themselves deep enough to find Truth, Beauty, and Creativity.  Although fear does come from within, it is based on untruths or half-truths.  Fear always seems perfectly reasonable, but when we examine many of our fears, we find that they are based on assumptions.  Fears are almost always given power by unverifiable beliefs that we have developed over a long period of time.  Looking within and basing our lives on the Truth we find there involves dismantling those fears and getting beneath them to something deeper, something that is not threatening, something that connects us to other people rather than fueling animosity. 

Developing this level of spiritual maturity is not necessarily an easy thing, even for people who live their lives doing holy work, like Eli's sons.  It seems easier to react to our fears and build beliefs that look like protective concrete walls with barbed wire and booby traps.  We feel protected for the moment because our fears have been addressed, but fear never shuts up.  We can never be insulated or guarded enough to be completely safe and secure from irrational fears.  All of our efforts just strengthen the power of our fear and create patterns of behavior that cement those irrational beliefs firmly in place.  Reacting to our fears expends a phenomenal amount of time and energy.

Getting to the heart of who we are, at the deepest core of our being, may also take considerable time and energy.  But the results are very different.  Instead of ultimately ineffectual protection against irrational fears, by recognizing and living in accordance with the deep Truth within us, we create connection with other people.  We have the opportunity to turn our creativity toward more meaningful pursuits, building the lives we most want rather than the walls that we think will make us feel safe in the moment.  Through reaching beneath the fears and false beliefs, we have the resources to build ourselves into the people we most want to be rather than the people we think we must be in the face of all that seems to threaten us.  The process still requires some effort and dedication, but in reality, we are exerting that effort every day; the choice is merely a matter of what we are building.

Eli's sons built for themselves lives that seemed secure and happy.  Samuel built a life of dedication to something deeper, something more meaningful, from a very early age.  In the story, he is called by a voice he doesn't recognize.  At first, Eli doesn't recognize what Samuel is experiencing, either.  The divine reaches out to Samuel, and for the biblical writers, this was most easily depicted as an externalized calling from a deity who was enthroned upon the ark of the covenant.  When we think of the divine calling us today, we have a much richer symbolic palette from which we can draw.  Although we may envision it in myriad different ways, it is the character of the divine -- that deep Truth, Beauty, and Creativity -- that calls us from beyond all of the irrational fears and false beliefs we have built up in its way.

Make no mistake, the divine does not call to a select few who have drawn some spiritual lottery, even though it may seem like only a select few respond earnestly to the call.  Within all of us, there calls the voice of our divine self, not in any audible sense, but as an internalized spiritual awareness that tugs at us.  Whether we acknowledge it or not, this calling from within is continuous and relentless.  Our divine self does not give up.  It calls us to see other people through compassionate eyes, so that we might recognize the value inherent in everyone we meet.  It calls us to see our impact on the world, to be purposeful about creating something meaningful.  It calls us to see ourselves as beautiful and capable.  It calls us to fearless connection.  It calls us to unashamed love.

Exodus 3-4: Purpose, Passion, and "Calling" Come from Within (no shrubbery conflagrations required)

Moses’ story continues in Exodus 3-4, in which he is called by God to return to Egypt and negotiate the release of the Israelites from the country. When Moses argues that he isn’t capable of the task, God teaches him some magic tricks (gimmicks that were known by other “sorcerers” of the time). When Moses still resists, God angrily suggests that Moses’ brother Aaron can help. God also promises that there will be “dramatic displays of power” that will convince Pharaoh to do what God wants, and that God will forcibly keep Pharaoh stubborn until the displays of power have run their course. If Pharaoh acquiesced after the first couple of plagues, it would be like the audience leaving before the grand finale. As icing on the cake, God promises Moses that the Egyptians will heap wealth upon the Israelites when they leave, going so far as to label it a robbery on the part of the Israelites.

Then there is this tricky little scene that is so fraught with pronouns and euphemism that every translation says something slightly different. Basically, when Moses fled Egypt and ran to Midian for safety, he married Zipporah and adopted the cultural and religious practices of the Midianites. As such, Moses’ son went uncircumcised. When Moses and his family set off for Egypt, after God has gone through a great ordeal to convince Moses to even consider the journey, the Lord decides that Moses’ son needs to die because he wasn’t circumcised. So, with her son in the throes of what appeared to be a life-threatening illness, Zipporah gave in and circumcised her son. Depending on the translation, this was either something done with an understanding of symbolic ritual, or it was a repulsive act she performed out of desperation for her son’s life. Either way, once he’s circumcised, the boy gets better.

The matter of free will is certainly central to how things play out for the character of Pharaoh, and there will be plenty of opportunity to explore that in later passages.  Having established the character of the biblical patriarchs and their god in our exploration of the book of Genesis, it is not of utmost importance to go through each verse in meticulous detail to point out further moral, ethical, and psychological issues with the narrative and its characters.  It is more useful to look beyond the assumptions of the text and draw spiritual insight that can be meaningful in everyday life.

Accepting that the divine is something within us rather than outside of us, there are some significant ideas in Moses’ confrontation with the divine that are worthy of consideration. The divine is displayed as a burning bush which is never consumed. Fire can be frightening and fascinating. We talk about a people having a “fire in their bellies” or being “on fire” for a particular cause because we recognize the similarities between actual fire and human passion. Passion for an ideal or for another person can at times be frightening as well. It may threaten to overwhelm us and take precedence over everything else in our lives. Some of us tend to be afraid of being controlled by our passions, but it’s foolish to try to ignore them completely.

The things that we are passionate about stem from our essence. They are deep truths about us becoming manifest. Everyone isn’t passionate about the same things or in the same way, but there is something that burns within every person, untamed, unquenchable, and ultimately unavoidable. When we stoke our passions, they burn brighter, and when we ignore them, our own energy and sense of purpose gets consumed. There are ways to focus our passions and maintain them in a way that doesn’t run roughshod over every other aspect of our lives. However, in order to manage that fire, we have to embrace that it exists and that it is divine.

To say that the passions we have are divine is to acknowledge that they originate in that place of deep truth, beauty, and creativity within us. If it seems that the most obvious way to express our passions is to do something harmful to ourselves or another human being, we are missing something. The fires of our true passions are not about gaining power, but rather they inspire us to exercise the power we already possess in a meaningful way. That may seem like a challenge sometimes, but the reward is authentic connection with ourselves.

When Moses asks the burning bush for a name, the response is “I am who I am” (depending on the translation). While this is often interpreted as an indication as to the character of the Israelites’ god, it is also a healthy point of view for us to adopt about ourselves. We spend so much time worrying about being healthier, skinnier, more beautiful, wealthier, happier, more socially connected, more influential, more knowledgeable, more vindicated, and on and on. We are who we are. We can aim for lofty goals, provided those goals are tempered in the reality of our capabilities. That is precisely what our passions drive us to do. But any time and energy we spend detailing the ways in which we don’t measure up to some arbitrary ideal is squandered time and energy.

All of us can name some essential truths about ourselves. They may be character traits or things we experience for just a moment. We may think of them as positive or negative, but truth is simply true. If a person is sad… or unsociable… or fearful… or obese… or angry… or whatever, judging that state of being as inappropriate or wrong is a denial of truth. People are able to take action and make changes, but in order to travel to any destination, you have to be aware of your starting point. You are who you are. I am who I am. That is a divine truth.

Acknowledging who we are includes acknowledging the passions that blaze within us. If your passion is making birdhouses, it doesn’t make sense to spend all of your time campaigning for a political cause. There are other people who are passionate about various political causes, and it wouldn’t make sense for them to spend all of their time building birdhouses. Other people do not have to validate who you are. Who you are is simply true. People will not always agree on what is most important in life, in politics, in industry. But no one can determine what is most important to you except you.

Like Moses, we often make excuses as well. Fire is scary. Passion is scary. Truth can even be scary if we are accustomed to thoughtlessly accepting other people’s opinions as our own truth. There are plenty of resources on the market to help people stop procrastinating, stop making excuses, and take action. The key is that you know when you are making excuses. You may fool yourself into thinking that the excuses are true, but the part of you that burns with inspiration knows better. The truth of who you are is not a secret to you, although for some there are decades of excuses piled on top of that unquenchable fire.

Within each of us, that which we call “divine” burns with a passion for something that honors the truth of who we are in congruence with the value of every human being. It may be birdhouses. It may be freedom for people suffering in addiction. It may be dancing. You are who you are. You know what your excuses are. You can be done with them whenever you are ready.