Ananias: Not An Apostle (Acts 9:10-19)

Who prayed for Saul when he was healed from his blindness? Ananias (Acts 9:18)

Paul, still known as Saul, begins his journey from persecutor of the church to apostle when he is famously blinded on the Damascus road during an encounter with Jesus (Acts 9:1-9). God enlists Ananias, a disciple from Damascus, to intercede on the still blinded Saul’s behalf (Acts 9:10-19). The man who persecuted believers is now dependent upon one.

In a vision, God instructs Ananias that Saul will be awaiting him as he too has experienced a vision (Acts 9:10-12). Citing Saul’s notorious reputation, an apprehensive Ananias voices his concerns (Acts 9:13-14). God does not refute the reluctant disciple’s assessment but overrules his objection, confiding that Saul will play an important role in the church’s future (Acts 9:15-16). Ananias relents and does as he is commanded (Acts 9:17-19).

So Ananias departed and entered the house, and after laying his hands on him said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on the road by which you were coming, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” And immediately there fell from his eyes something like scales, and he regained his sight, and he got up and was baptized; and he took food and was strengthened. (Acts 9:17-19 NASB)

Ananias was a common name during the period. Harold S. Songer (1928-2005) observes:

Ananias is the Greek form of the Hebrew name Hannaniah (Hanni or Hanan) which means “God is gracious.” The name occurs frequently in the Apocrypha (cf. I Esdras 9:21, 43, 48; Judith 8:1; Tobit 5:12) and is used of three different persons in the New Testament [Acts 5:1, 9:10, 23:2]. (Watson E. Mills [b. 1939], Mercer Dictionary of the Bible, 28)

Rieuwerd Buitenwerf (b. 1973) researches:

See Tal Ilan [b. 1956], Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity Part I: Palestine 330 BCE-200 CE...On the list of most popular Jewish names...Hananiah (=Ananias) is seventh (pp. 56, 103-108). In Josephus [37-100]....are found...nine persons called Ananias. (Buitenwerf, Harm W. Hollander [b. 1949], Johannes Tromp [b. 1964], “Narrative History Based on the Letters of Paul”, Jesus, Paul, and Early Christianity: Studies in Honour of Henk Jan De Jonge [b. 1943] (Supplements to Novum Testamentum), 74)

Ananias proves to be the embodiment of his name. J. Bradley Chance (b. 1954) notes:

The name means “Yahweh is gracious.” Whereas the name is ironic when applied to the Ananias of Acts 5:1-11, it is fitting for this Ananias. Even more skeptical readers...acknowledge that Luke inherited this basic story from tradition, for he would not have “made up” a character with the same name as two other infamous characters in Acts (Acts 5:1-11, 23:2-5). (Chance, Acts (Smyth & Helwys Bible Commentary), 148)

Little biographical information is provided regarding Ananias but everything that is revealed is highly favorable. Tellingly, and unlike Saul in the preceding story (Acts 9:5), when Ananias is summoned he recognizes the voice (Acts 9:10). He answers the call with the stereotypical servant’s response (Genesis 22:1, 31:11; Exodus 3:10; I Samuel 3:4, 6, 8; Isaiah 6:8).

Ananias is deemed a “disciple” (Acts 9:10). Ben Witherington III (b. 1951) defines:

The term μαθητης is regularly used in Acts to refer to a Christian (cf. Acts 5:1, 8:9, 9:1, 10, 16:1), but it seems likely that Luke also uses the term of the followers of John the Baptist in Acts as he had in the Gospel (Acts 19:1; cf. Luke 5:33, 7:18). In this case it is clear enough that Ananias is a Christian disciple. (Witherington, The Acts of the Apostles : A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 317-18)

Ananias is well-informed as his assessment of Saul’s behavior is accurate (Acts 8:3, 9:1-2). Because he has only heard of Saul’s dealings and not experienced them first hand many have concluded that he is a native of Damascus and not a refugee who has fled persecution in Jerusalem (Acts 9:13-14).

Later in Acts, when Paul recalls Ananias’ intercession, he describes him as “a man who was devout by the standard of the Law, and well spoken of by all the Jews who lived there” (Acts 22:12 NASB). From this commendation it can be deduced that Ananias is a Jewish believer held in high regard in the Christian community.

Prior to Saul’s blindness, as a prominent Damascan disciple, Ananias was likely high on the persecutor’s hit list. Ananias is beckoned in a vision, a common medium for divine communication in Acts, especially when the Lord is doing something new (Acts 2:17, 9:10, 12, 10:3, 17, 19, 11:5, 16:9, 10, 18:9). He is likely in terror when informed that the man hunting down he and his friends is in town much less that he is to seek him out.

Ananias receives an assignment he clearly does not want. R. Kent Hughes (b. 1942) compares:

The hunted do not usually minister to the hunter. Normally that would be as crazy as Peter Rabbit caring for Mr. McGregor or Golda Meir [1898-1978] nursing Adolf Eichmann [1906-1962]. But this is exactly what happened in Saul’s case. (Hughes, Acts: The Church Afire (Preaching the Word, 130)

For Ananias to entertain an idea this crazy, God had to be in it!

Being asked to intercede on Saul’s behalf is a severe test of Ananias’ faith. One of the ultimate measures of faith is how the believer responds to counterintuitive imperatives (Exodus 14:16; I Kings 17:3-14; II Kings 5:10; John 9:1-11). Ananias passes this test with flying colors.

Ananias goes to Saul and administers the laying on of hands (Acts 9:17). The ritual is commonly associated with healing in Luke-Acts (Luke 4:40, 13:13; Acts 9:17; 28:8).

Clinton E. Arnold (b. 1958) chronicles:

In the Old Testament, the laying on of hands is done in connection with a special commission (as Moses did when he conferred the leadership of the nation on Joshua; Numbers 27:23) or with the imparting of a blessing (as Jacob did on his sons just before he died; Genesis 48:14). Jesus often laid his hands on people as he healed them. (Arnold, John, Acts (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 78)

Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) adds:

The imposition of hands takes on a curative aspect...As a gesture of healing, it is unknown in the Old Testament or in rabbinical literature but has turned up in 1QapGen 29:28-20, where Abram prays, lays his hands on the head of Pharaoh, and exorcises the evil spirt afflicting him and his household for having carried off Sarai, Abram’s wife. (Fitzmyer, The Acts of the Apostles (The Anchor Bible), 429)

Darrell L. Bock (b. 1953) differentiates:

Ananias will be the mediator of the restoration of Saul’s sight and of the Spirit’s filling. At Qumran, 1QapGen 20:28-29 mentions the laying on of hands to drive a demon away from Pharaoh, but this Qumranic text is not technically an exorcism, as there is no possession here, only oppression and demonic presence...What Ananias does is not designated to send a force away but to associate Saul with God...The purpose of laying on hands in this scene is obvious. The Spirit is connecting Saul to his brothers, as Ananias’s opening address affirms. He also is empowered for witness, a Pauline “Pentecost” (William J. Larkin, Jr. [b. 1945] 1995: 143 see Acts 9:15). (Bock, Acts (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 362)

C.K. Barrett (1917-2011) clarifies:

The laying on of hands is certainly not a rite subsequent to baptism; as usual in Acts, it is a sign of blessing, to be interpreted as the occasion suggests. Here it is an act of healing. (Barrett, Acts 1-14 (International Critical Commentary), 457)

Ananias’ intercession accomplishes its purpose as Saul regains his eyesight (Acts 9:18). This marks the only New Testament story outside of the gospels where a blind person’s sight is restored. The return of Saul’s sight is signaled by “something like scales” falling from his eyes (Acts 9:18 NASB). A similar film is removed from Tobit’s eyes in the Apocrypha (Tobit 3:17, 11:13).

The event marks Saul’s physical and spiritual healing. Saul is eventually filled with the Spirit though there is some debate as to when this occurs. I. Howard Marshall (b. 1934) rationalizes:

It is not clear whether in the present context it is also regarded as conveying the gift of the Spirit to Paul, and indeed this seems unlikely since here it precedes baptism, with which reception of the Spirit would normally be associated. At the same time Ananias indicated his commission from the same Lord who had already appeared to Paul to bring him healing and the gift of the Spirit. (Marshall, Acts (Tyndale New Testament Commentaries), 172)

Charles H. Talbert (b. 1934) counters:

The conjunction of regaining sight and being filled with the Spirit seem to be two sides of one coin here. Hence when Acts 9:18 says he sees, it can be inferred that he has been filled. The visible sign of his filling is his healing (cf. Galatians 3:5). If so, there is once again considerable variety in the arrangements associated with the reception of the Holy Spirit in Acts. (Talbert, Reading Acts: A Literary and Theological Commentary, 87)

Regardless of when he is filled with the Spirit, Saul is initiated into the Christian community.

Remarkably, the dutiful disciple not only follows orders but seemingly does so ungrudgingly. Ananias’ words match his actions as he not only touches Saul but establishes rapport by receiving him as a “brother” (Acts 1:16, 2:29, 2:37, 3:17, 6:3, 7:2, 9:17, 13:15, 26, 38, 15:7, 13, 21:20, 22:1, 22:13, 23:1, 5, 6, 28:17.) Often lost in translation, Ananias also greets Saul using the Hebrew or Aramaic transliteration Saoul. Taken collectively, these gestures add up to a warm welcome demonstrating genuine love and kindness and more importantly, acceptance as a member of the community.

What is absent is also meanningful: At no point does Ananias reproach Saul! Saul has been accepted by God and that is good enough for Ananias.

William H. Willimon (b. 1946) interprets:

No longer does Ananias speak about “this man” [Acts 9:13] but to “Brother Saul.” The despised enemy, the alien, has become a brother. Does Luke intend the phrase “on the road by which you came’...to remind us of Acts 9:2 where the “way” refers to the believers? On the way to do in the followers of “the Way,” Saul was turned around and set on the way. (Willimon, Acts (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 77)

Lloyd J. Ogilvie (b. 1930) praises:

One of the most moving scenes in all of Scripture is what happened when Ananias went to Saul. He found the feared persecutor alone, blind, and helpless. All the hurt and fright Ananias had felt for what this man had done to his brothers and sisters in Christ drained away. The same Lord who told him to go to Saul lived in him and had given to him His own character traits of love and forgiveness. It was with the Lord’s deep compassion and acceptance that Ananias could say, “Brother Saul.”...How we need people to enact His love in a daring way by calling us by a name we have not yet earned or accepted for ourselves! (Ogilvie, Acts (The Preacher’s Commentary), 166-67)

The truce between Ananias and Saul represents the forgiveness possible through Christ, a reconciliation the would shape Paul’s ministry. Charles L. Campbell (b. 1954) connects:

There are few more dramatic pictures of the reconciling power of the risen Christ. The persecuted Ananias, in the power of the risen Christ, calls his former persecutor “Brother.” In Jesus, that is the kind of reconciled community that is possible. And for the rest of his ministry Paul will emphasize this reconciliation between “Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female.” Not only Paul’s life is changed by his encounter with the risen Christ, but the very character of the community itself begins to undergo a transformation. (Roger E. Van Harn [b. 1932], The Lectionary Commentary, Theological Exegesis for Sunday’s Texts: The First Readings – The Old Testament and Acts, 561-62)

Ananias’ response to Saul serves as a model for all Christians to accept new believers regardless of past actions.

Though Ananias plays only a cameo role in the New Testament, the part he plays is significant. Robert C. Tannehill (b. 1934) proclaims:

Ananias is an important figure in Acts 9. He is more than a messenger. His reaction to events is important. The narrator takes time to present this reaction and the Lord’s corrective response. Therefore, this episode is more than the story of Saul; it is the story of Saul and Ananias, a story of how the Lord encountered both and brought them together. (Tannehill, The Narrative Unity of Luke-Acts, A Literary Interpretation, Volume 2: The Acts of the Apostles, 115)

Behind every great Christian is another who instructed them along their way. Warren W. Wiersbe (b. 1929) correlates:

On April 21, 1855, Edward Kimball led one of the young men in his Sunday School to faith in Christ. Little did he realize that Dwight L. Moody [1837-1899] would one day become the world’s leading evangelist. The ministry of Norman B. Harrison in an obscure Bible conference was used of to bring Theodore Epp [1907-1985] to faith in Christ, and God used Theodore Epp to build the Back to the Bible ministry around the world. Our task is to lead men and women to Christ; God’s task is to use them for his glory; and every person is important to God. (Wiersbe, Be Dynamic (Acts 1-12): Experience the Power of God’s People, 137)

Christian history is filled with lesser known disciples who influenced influential followers. Other such examples are Johann von Staupitz (1460-1524) and Martin Luther (1483-1546), John Egglen and Charles Haddon Spurgeon (1834-1892) and Mordecai Ham (1877-1961) and Billy Graham (b. 1918).

Ananias leaves the Biblical text as abruptly as he enters it. His diminishing recognition begins in the Bible itself.

Mikeal C. Parsons (b. 1957) tracks:

In Saul’s autobiographical retellings Ananias’s role diminishes as Saul’s role expands (Ronald D. Witherup [b. 1950] 1992, 77). In Acts 22 Ananias tells Saul to receive his sight and that he will be a “witness” of all he has seen and heard. By Acts 26 Ananias drops out of the story completely. (Parsons, Acts (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament), 130)

Ananias is not referenced in any of the Pauline epistles. This is especially conspicuous when Paul writes the Galatians of his encounter with Christ and asserts that “I did not immediately consult with flesh and blood” (Galatians 1:16 NASB).

There is little doubt that Ananias is one the Bible’s unsung heroes.

How hard must it have been for Ananias to help Saul? Who would you recoil from assisting? When has God asked you to do something that seemed illogical? How would Paul’s story have changed without Ananias’ intervention? Why do you think that Ananias fades from the forefront? If God wishes Saul’s sight to be restored, why does he wait for Ananias’ arrival for the scales to fall? What is accomplished by Ananias’ involvement? Why is Ananias chosen for this task?

To complete his mission, Paul will need the acceptance of the church and Ananias is a credible witness to an incredibly important event.

Derek Carlsen remarks:

The Lord did not need to use Ananias, but the church needed Ananias’ testimony and it also shows that the Lord uses people in bringing about the accomplishment of His will. This should encourage us to faithfully minister where we are, knowing that our labor is not in vain (I Corinthians 15:58). (Carlsen, Faith and Courage: Commentary on Acts, 237)

On many levels, Ananias is an odd choice. Not only does enlisting Ananias break “apostolic succession”, he also has no official status within the church.

S. G. Wilson (b. 1942) discerns:

If the point of Acts 9 was primarily to show how Paul was absorbed into the Church’s tradition, or, as Ernst Haenchen [1894-1975] would have it, legitimised by the Twelve through their representative, then one might have expected Luke to have made a clearer line of contact between the Twelve or the Jerusalem Church and Ananias in Damascus. It is an oft-noted fact that Ananias, a Christian who apparently permanently resides in Damascus, suddenly appears in Acts 9 without any clue being offered how Christianity had spread from Jerusalem to Damascus. We are not told that the Twelve preached or legitimised preaching there as, for example, they did in Antioch and Samaria. (Wilson, The Gentiles and the Gentile Mission in Luke-Acts (Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series), 64)

Loveday Alexander characterizes:

Formally speaking, the laying on of hands here (Acts 9:17) is not apostolic. Ananias was not one of the Twelve, and there is no record that he himself was ever commissioned by the Jerusalem apostles. He acts simply as a believer, responding directly to the vision out of the conviction that he too has been sent...by the same Lord Jesus who appeared to Saul on the road. For Luke...Paul’s apostolic commission came not from Jerusalem but direct from the Lord himself. So Saul’s Damascus road experience leads him into a transformative encounter with the risen Christ. Its results are vision restored, rising to new life, baptism and filling with the Holy Spirit (Acts 9:17-18), and renewed strength (Acts 9:19). (Alexander, Acts: A Guide for Reflection and Prayer (Daily Bible Commentary), 79)

F.F. Bruce (1910-1990) concludes:

The commissioning of Saul, and the part played in it by Ananias, must ever remain a stumbling block in the path of those whose conception of the apostolic ministry is too tightly bound to one particular line of transmission or form of ordination. If the risen Lord commissioned such an illustrious servant in so “irregular” a way, may he not have done so again, and may he not yet do so again, when the occasion requires it? (Bruce, The Book of Acts (New International Commentary on the New Testament), 189)

Apostle or not, Ananias is a believer, a representative of God. And clergy or not, that is all he needs to be commissioned to do great things by God.

Why did God choose Ananias and not an apostle for the task of interceding for Saul? Do you believe that “apostolic succession” is a requirement for clergy? Who was instrumental in your spiritual development? Who have you interceded for? Who can you be interceding for?

“God will not look you over for medals, degrees or diplomas but for scars.” - Elbert Hubbard (1856-1915), The Note Book

The Cost of Treachery (Genesis 37:28)

How many pieces of silver was Joseph sold for? Twenty (Genesis 37:28)

Joseph’s receiving of his “coat of many colors” is a well-known story, one commonly told to children (Genesis 37:1-11). Before the chapter concludes, however, a dark shadow is cast on this bright story as Joseph is sold into slavery (Genesis 37:18-28). Having reached a breaking point with the pampered seventeen year old, Joseph’s ten older brothers resolved to eliminate him (Genesis 37:18). Seeing him approaching from a distance, they plot to throw him into a cistern and leave him for dead (Genesis 37:19-24).

Inspired by the sight of a caravan of Ishmaelites and reminding his brothers that Joseph “is our brother, our own flesh”, Judah convinces them that they would be better served to sell Joseph as a slave (Genesis 37:25-27 NASB).

John Goldingay (b. 1942) observes:

There is something mafia-like about the way the brothers throw Joseph into the empty cistern to die, then coolly settle down for dinner. It seems strange that Judah’s recognition that “he is our flesh and blood” does not extend to hesitation about selling him into slavery...And it seems strange that this recognition does not extend to hesitation over putting Jacob through his terrible grief, though perhaps the brothers were glad to get back at their father for making Joseph their favorite. The convenient coincidence is the fortuitous arrival of a camel caravan. (Goldingay, Genesis For Everyone, Part Two: Chapters 17-50, 132)

The brothers callously exchange their brother for silver (Genesis 37:28).

So when the Midianite merchants came by, his brothers pulled Joseph up out of the cistern and sold him for twenty shekels of silver to the Ishmaelites, who took him to Egypt. (Genesis 37:28 NASB)

The sale price is twenty “shekels” (ESV, NIV, NASB, NKJV) or “pieces” (ASV, CEV, HCSB, KJV, MSG, NLT, NRSV, RSV) of silver. There is actually no noun in the Hebrew text.

J.G. Vos (1903-1983) explains:

Note that the word “pieces” is in italics in the King James Version, indicating that it is not found in the Hebrew but was supplied by the translators. Coined money was not used at this period; the money was weighed. (Vos, Genesis, 457)

It has been suggested that the brothers charge an average slave price for the son that their father thought so exceptional. The Code of Hammurabi cites this same price (§§116, 214, 252).

Victor P. Hamilton (b. 1952) surveys:

Joseph is sold for twenty pieces of silver to these traders. This was the average price for a male slave in Old Babylonian times (early 2nd millennium B.C.). The price gradually goes higher. At Nuzi (mid-2nd millennium) it was thirty shekels (for both male and female). At Ugarit (mid- to late 2nd millennium) it was forty shekels. In Neo-Babylonian times (1st millennium) it was fifty shekels. In Persians times (late 1st millennium) the price was ninety to one hundred and twenty shekels. These are, of course, the generals standards from which there were many departures. Joseph’s sale for twenty shekels fits perfectly with the amount a man was to give to the sanctuary if he vows himself or one of his male relatives between the ages of five and twenty (Joseph is seventeen) to the Lord (Leviticus 27:5). (Hamilton, The Book of Genesis: Chapters 18-50 (New International Commentary on the Old Testament), 422)

Donald B. Redford (b. 1934) counters:

The price of twenty shekels of silver paid for Joseph is simply the rate stipulated by Leviticus 27:5 for a minor above five years of age. It is unnecessary and misleading to adduce “average” slave prices from Mesopotamia (so K.A. Kitchen [b. 1932], Ancient Orient and the Old Testament, [London, 1966], 52f.). The locale of the story is Palestine, not the Tigris-Euphrates Valley. Even so, it maybe pointed out that examples of the sale of sons of a family by other members of the same family in Neo-Babylonian times, range between sixteen and thirty shekels. (Redford, A Study of the Biblical Story of Joseph (Genesis 37-50) (Supplements to Vetus Testamentum, Volume XX), 200)

In extrabiblical sources the fee for Joseph varies slightly. In the Qur’an, he is sold “for a reduced price - a few dirhams” (Qur’an 12:20). The noncanonical Testament of Gad reports that twenty is only the recorded sale price.

David A. deSilva (b. 1967) informs:

In Testament of Gad, Gad and Judah sell Joseph for thirty pieces of gold (Testament of Gad 5:6-11), whereas Joseph is sold for twenty silver coins in the original Hebrew text of Genesis 37:28. The change in value is not, however, the result of a Christian author’s or editor’s attempt to make of Joseph a precursor of Jesus, especially since Joseph is sold for thirty gold coins rather than thirty silver coins, as was Jesus. The change in currency from silver to gold coins is the result of the influence of the Septuagint version of Genesis 37:28, where Joseph was sold for twenty gold coins. The author of Testament of Gad increases this to thirty coins to allow for Judah and Gad’s embezzlement of ten coins before showing the twenty remaining coins (the official price in public knowledge, hence the Scriptural record, of the sale) to their brothers. (deSilva, The Jewish Teachers of Jesus, James, and Jude: What Earliest Christianity Learned from the Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha, 214)

Joseph’s opportunistic brothers manage to profit from their jealousy. W. Sibley Towner (b. 1933) evaluates:

If the twenty pieces of silver were shekels (Genesis 37:28), the brothers got a good average price for Joseph...By modern silver prices, this sale would have netted the brothers $130-$150—and who can say what purchasing power that amount of money had in the Late Bronze Age! The resale to the Egyptians no doubt was profitable to the traders. Egyptian documents of the second millennium B.C. reveal that at that time a brisk trade in slaves went on between Egypt and “Asia,” that is, Syria and Canaan. (Towner, Genesis (Westminster Bible Companion), 248)

Gordon Wenham (b. 1943) compares:

For shepherds who might expect to earn, if employed by others, about eight shekels a year (cf. Laws of Hammurabi 261), the sale of Joseph represented a handy bonus! (Wenham, Genesis 16-50 (Word Biblical Commentary), 356)

The syntax demonstrates that the Bible does not take this incident lightly as in the Hebrew text Joseph’s name appears three times in the one verse (Genesis 37:28).

Robert E. Longacre (b. 1922) advances:

Certainly three occurrences of the name are hardly needed for participant identification; the repetition has some further function. Here it marks an extremely important and providential event in the family of Jacob and the history of the embryonic nation. (Longacre, Joseph, A Story of Divine Providence: A Text Theoretical and Textlinguistic Analysis of Genesis 37, 29)

As horrific as slavery is, Judah’s cruel proposal beats the alternative: death. In retrospect, Joyce G. Baldwin (1921-1995) recognizes:

Though he could not know it, Joseph was going through an experience which was to become a major theme of the Bible. The godly Servant was despised and rejected, only to become the rescuer of those who abused him (Isaiah 53:3-6); the Lord’s shepherd was underrated (Zechariah 11:12-13), was struck down and his sheep scattered, but the ‘sheep’ found they were the Lord’s people (Zechariah 13:7-9); the way of the cross involved for Jesus betrayal by a friend, as well as agony and death, but it was the way to life for all believers. (Baldwin, The Message of Genesis 12-50 (Bible Speaks Today), 160)

At the end of the day, Joseph is still alive. And as such, there is hope.

What motivates the brothers to sell Joseph? Is this transaction primarily about money? Why is this particular currency (silver) employed? How much money would it take for you to sell a family member into slavery? What is a life worth? What do Joseph’s brothers do with the silver?

Though Joseph will eventually land in Egypt (Genesis 39:1), there is debate as to the chain of events that transports him there. The trouble arises as Genesis attributes the sale to both Ishmaelites (Genesis 37:28, 39:1) and Midianites (Genesis 37:28, 36). Some scholars see this as clear evidence of the book’s multiple sources.

Tremper Longman III (b. 1952) asks:

To whom did the brothers sell Joseph, the Ishmaelites or the Midianites? At first the passage, if read closely, is quite jarring. Those who believe that the book of Genesis is the construction of originally separate sources take this alternating between names as evidence that there were at least two stories of Joseph’s sale, one with the Ishmaelites and another with Midianites. (Longman, How to Read Genesis, 48)

Others see no discrepancy, claiming that Genesis simply uses the terms “Ishmaelite” and “Midianite” interchangeably. Still others pose that the Bible subtly hints that Joseph’s brothers get rooked.

Paul Borgman (b. 1940) posits:

“And they raised their eyes,” the text moves on, “and [they] saw and, look, a caravan of Ishmaelites was coming from Gilead...on their way to take down [goods] to Egypt” (Genesis 37:25). But then “Midianite merchantmen passed by and pulled Joseph up out of the pit and sold Joseph to the Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of silver” (Genesis 37:27-28). If we accept the discordant mix of Midianite and Ishmaelite here, the outcome is a pointed irony: Judah’s plans for monetary gain are foiled by the Midianites, who manage to beat the avaricious brothers to the pit. (Borgman, Genesis: The Story We Haven’t Heard, 181-82)

Regardless of how the transactions played out, Joseph later attributes his sale to his brothers (Genesis 45:4). Jewish tradition asserts that the brothers receive and spend the money. Though Joseph’s brothers will later pay him for grain in Egypt (Genesis 42:5), this is not where tradition records that the silver is spent: They use the silver to buy shoes (Targum Yonatan to Genesis 37:28)!

David Stern (b. 1949) documents:

While Genesis 37:28 states merely that Joseph was sold to the Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of silver, the legend that the money was used to buy shoes is an ancient one, attested to both in Targum Pseudo-Jonathan, the Palestinian Aramaic translation of the Bible, ad Genesis 37:28, and in the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, Zebulun 4, in both apparently on the basis of a traditional association of Amos 2:6, and possibly Amos 8:6, with the Joseph story. (Stern and Mark J. Mirsky [b. 1939], Rabbinic Fantasies: Imaginative Narratives from Classical Hebrew Literature, 161)

Regardless of what was gained from the silver involved in the sale of Joseph, the cost was far too high.

Judas regretted selling Jesus for silver (Matthew 27:3-5), do you think that Joseph’s brothers ever regretted pawning their baby sibling? What did selling Joseph cost the brothers? What has your sin cost you?

“Money often costs too much.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882), The Conduct of Life, p. 107

The Rapture? (I Thessalonians 4:17)

Which letter talks about “meeting the Lord in the air”? I Thessalonians (I Thessalonians 4:17)

Paul’s First Epistle to the Thessalonians is considered by many to be the earliest of his canonical letters. This correspondence contains the only biblical reference to what has become known as “the rapture”. Paul informs that Jesus, not an emissary, will return and meet believers “in the air” (I Thessalonians 4:17).

Then we who are alive and remain will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we shall always be with the Lord. (I Thessalonians 4:17 NASB)

Paul affirms that both living and deceased believers will meet “in the clouds...in the air”.

In the Bible, clouds are commonly connected to the visible presence of God (Exodus 13:21, 14:19, 19:16, 24:15, 40:34-28; I Kings 8:10-11; Isaiah 19:1; Ezekiel 1:4, 28; Mark 9:7; Acts 1:9)

F.F. Bruce (1910-1990) interjects:

“Clouds”—not simply because clouds suggested themselves as convenient vehicles for transportation through space but because clouds are a regular feature of biblical theophanies; the divine glory is veiled in clouds, shines forth from them and retreats into them. Cf. the thick cloud of Sinai when Yahweh came down to impart the law to his people (Exodus 19:16) and when Moses went up to receive the revelation (Exodus 24:15-18), or the cloud that enveloped the divine presence in the wilderness tabernacle (Exodus 40:34) and in Solomon’s temple (I Kings 8:10, 11; cf. Psalm 97:2). Specially relevant to the New Testament background are the “clouds of heaven” with which “one like a son of man” came to be presented before the Ancient of Days in Daniel 7:13 (cf. Mark 13:26...Mark 14:62...Revelation 1:7). Similar theophanic imagery appears in the narrative of the transfiguration (Mark 9:7)...and ascension (Acts 1:9): the “cloud” which received Jesus out of the disciples’ sight on the latter occasion has a bearing on the angelic assurance that he would come “in the same way” as they had seen him go (Acts 1:11). (Bruce, 1 & 2 Thessalonians (Word Biblical Commentary), 102)

Believers will meet Jesus in the “air” (ASV, ESV, HCSB, KJV, MSG, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV, RSV) or “sky” (CEV). The Greek aer conveys the atmosphere, the space between the heavens and earth in Jewish cosmology.

Gene L. Green (b. 1951) defines:

The place of this meeting is in the air. At times this expression (eis aera) means simply “up” (Achilles Tatius 7.15.3; Josephus [37-100], Antiquitates 7.327 [7.13.3]), and it may be that the apostle has nothing more in mind here. On the other hand, the air was understood as the habitation of malignant supernatural powers (Ephesians 2:2), and, according to the common conception of the day, the air was “filled with gods and spirits” (Plutarch [46-120], Moralia 274B). But there does not appear to be any connection between this statement and that belief. It was also believed that the air was filled with “souls” (Diogenes Laertius 8.31-32), and by way of contrast the extraordinary affirmation of the apostle was that the resurrected and the living believers, and not simply their souls, will meet the Lord in the air. Paul does not elaborate on how this could happen, but we know from his other writings that he expects a transformation of the mortal human body to state of immortality (Philippians 3:20-21; I Corinthians 15:35-37). (Green, The Letters to the Thessalonians (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 228)

Ernest Best (1917-2004) concurs:

The meeting with the Lord takes place in (εἰς can hardly have the sense of direction here but is equivalent to ἐν; these prepositions are often confused in the papyri) the air. The Lord comes down; the risen and the surviving are snatched up; the air therefore lies between heaven and earth. It is the area of the planets and the stars, the dwelling place of evil spirits and supernatural powers (Ephesians 2:2). (Best, The First and Second Epistles to the Thessalonians (Black’s New Testament Commentary), 199)

This detail is striking to the uninitiated and is irregular even by Biblical standards. Gordon D. Fee (b. 1934) informs:

The more surprising element in this description is the final phrase “in the air.” Although, for those familiar with the passage this seems like a natural thing to say, the fact is that this is the only occurrence in Paul’s letters of this word with its proper first meaning, referring to “the atmosphere immediately above the earth’s surface” (BDAG) — although it is also used in a negative sense to refer to the abode of the present powers of darkness (Ephesians 2:2). But this is “surprising” to us only because Paul has no reason elsewhere to speak of this “space” at all. His reason for doing so here has altogether to do with the present imagery. The Lord himself is descending “from heaven,” and those who are being caught up to meet him are “from earth.” Hence their place of meeting is “in the air,” thus referring to the space between heaven and earth. (Fee, The First and Second Letters to the Thessalonians (New International Commentary on the New Testament), 181)

Despite the anomaly, there are some parallels in Jewish tradition. Victor Paul Furnish (b. 1931) examines:

Elements of the Jewish apocalyptic tradition are...evident in the reference to believers being “caught up in the clouds...to meet the Lord in the air” (I Thessalonians 4:17a). The notion of a “rapture” to heaven of certain righteous individuals is found in various Jewish texts, both canonical and noncanonical (e.g., of Enoch: Genesis 5:24; Wisdom of Solomon 4:11; I Enoch 71:1, 5, 14-17; II Enoch 67:2 [A]; of Ezra: 4 Ezra 14:9), and clouds are associated both with divine appearances (e.g., Exodus 19:16; Ezekiel 10:3-4) and travel between heaven and earth (note especially the descent of the Son of man, Daniel 7:13; Mark 13:26...and the ascent to heaven of two faithful witnesses, Revelation 11:12). According to the present scenario, however, the meeting with the Lord is to take place “in the air,” the region which, according to ancient cosmology, is just above the earth (II Enoch 29:4, 5). (Furnish, 1 Thessalonians, 2 Thessalonians (Abingdon New Testament Commentaries), 103)

Believers do not fly to meet Jesus in the air, but rather are “caught up” (ASV, ESV, HCSB, KJV, MSG, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV, RSV). The Greek harpazo implies force; “snatched” is not an unreasonable translation. The verb is in the passive voice implying that God is the one taking the action.

Charles A. Wanamaker (b. 1949) surveys:

The verb ἁρπάζειν is used in Genesis 5:24 (LXX) for the taking up of Enoch to heaven and by Paul in II Corinthians 12:2 and II Corinthians 12:4 to refer to his own ascent into the third heaven. In these instances, as in I Thessalonians 4:17, it implies that the ascent is brought about by a force outside the individual. (Wanamaker, The Epistles to the Thessalonians (New International Greek Testament Commentary), 175)

The same term is also used of Philip’s relocation to Azotus (Acts 8:39).

Though the term “rapture” does not appear in the Bible, it originates from the Latin translation of the Greek verb rendered “caught up”: rapiemur, the first person plural future indicative passive form of rapio. The cognate rapturo is the dative/ablative singular form of the future participle of the same verb.

Jeffrey A.D. Weima (b. 1960) comments:

This verse contains the one explicit reference in the New Testament to the “rapture”—the sudden removal of believers from earth and their reunion with Jesus in the air at the Second Coming. The word “rapture” does not actually occur here but originates from the Latin translation in the Vulgate of the Greek verb harpazō. Elsewhere, this latter term refers to the violent action of being “taken by force” or “snatched away,” usually to the benefit of the one being taken. (Clinton E. Arnold [b. 1958], Romans to Philemon (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 422)

Dispensational eschatology has developed its concept of the rapture from this passage. Charles E. Hill (b. 1956) traces:

Clement of Alexandria [150-215] curiously referred Paul’s statements to the experience of the believer at the time of death, but the association with the Parousia is evident in the text and is recognized by the great majority of interpreters...J.N. Darby [1800-1882] popularized, though evidently did not originate, the notion of a “secret rapture” to come without warning or accompaniment, leaving the world bereft of Christians to face the antichrist, seven years of tribulation, and the wrath of God. All this would precede Christ’s return to earth and the ensuing millennial reign. Darby’s understanding has become a hallmark of dispensational premillennialism. (David Noel Freedman [1922-2008], Eerdmans Dictionary of the Bible, 1111)

James H. Grant, Jr. (b. 1976) surveys:

Dispensationalists...argue that other passages describe the details of the second coming of Jesus, in Daniel and Revelation and Ezekiel. They also construct a theology of pretribulational rapture from other passages, but then they argue that...I Thessalonians 4:17, is the description of that event. For the other dominant views of Christ’s second coming, there is no distinction regarding the timing of the event. The rapture takes place during the time of Christ’s second coming. But in this particular view called dispensationalism, the event described in I Thessalonians 4:16, 17 is a unique event that is called “the rapture,” and it is different from the event described in Matthew 24:29-31 or any other passage that describes the second coming. (Grant, 1 & 2 Thessalonians: The Hope of Salvation (Preaching the Word), 124-25)

Leon Morris (1914-2006) responds:

It may be from this he [Paul] intends us to understand that the rapture will take place secretly, and that no one except the saints themselves will know what is going on. But one would hardly gather this from his words. It is difficult to see how he could more plainly describe something that is open and public. (Morris, The First and Second Epistles to the Thessalonians: Revised Edition (New International Commentary on the New Testament, 145)

Speculation as to the purpose of this meeting has developed from the word translated “meet” which developed into a technical term, whether it is intended here or not. If so, it would entail a welcoming party for a visiting dignitary.

Ben Witherington III (b. 1951) analyzes:

The meeting place is said to take place in the clouds or in the air, not in heaven...A royal visit to a city would be announced by a herald (see Psalm 24:7-10) and might well also be announced by a trumpet blast meant to alert those in the city that the king was coming...This imagery is pursued further in I Thessalonians 4:17 with the use of the term apantesin. For example, Cicero [106-43 BCE] says of Julius Caesar [100-44 BCE]’s victory tour through Italy in 49 B.C.: “Just imagine what a meeting/royal welcome (apantesis) he is receiving from the towns, what honors are paid to him” (Ad. Atticus 8.16.2; cf. 16.11.6 of Augustus [g6 BCE-14 CE]: “the municipalities are showing the boy remarkable favor...Wonderful apantesis and encouragement”). The word refers, then, to the actions of the greeting committee as it goes forth from the city to escort the royal person or dignitary into the city for his official visit. “These analogies (especially in association with the term parousia) suggest that the Lord is pictured here as escorted the remainder of the journey to earth by his people — both those newly raised from the dead and those remaining alive.” (Witherington, 1 and 2 Thesssalonians: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 138)

Earl J. Richard (b. 1940) adds:

It is generally admitted that the term for the meeting, apantēsis, became in the Hellenistic world a technical expression for the public, civic welcome accorded important visitors (TDNT 1:380-81). Such processions of leading citizens going out of the city walls to welcome and accompany an approaching visitor would have been common in Hellenistic times (Berliner griechische Urkunden 2.362.7.17; Polybius [200-118 BCE], History 5.26.8; Josephus [37-100], Antiquities of the Jews 11:8:4; Cicero [106-43 BCE], Letters to Atticus 8.16.2; 16.11.6; Chrysostom [347-407, Thessalonians: Homily 8.62.440) and would have been used by Paul to describe the triumphal meeting of believers and their Lord at the end-time. A second avenue of research points to Jewish background for this term, for in the Septuagint it is used for meetings with Abraham and David (Genesis 14:17; II Samuel 19:16) and for the Israelites’ encounter with God at Sinai (Exodus 19:17). So it has been suggested that Paul was influenced by such usage, especially theophanic imagery, in formulating his thought. It is thus possible that a double influence is at work here. Regardless, whether Paul thinks of Septuagint language or Hellenistic custom, the readers, whose acquaintance with Jewish scriptural background would have been weak, would certainly have understood Paul’s suggestive imagery. (Richard, First and Second Thessalonians (Sacra Pagina), 246-47)

The living believers ascend while Jesus descends. The glad reunion occurs in the air, the midpoint between both parties. Since the believers cannot get there without help they are “caught up.” The imagery epitomizes the partnership between God and humanity as God takes the necessary action to meet humanity in the middle. In this way, God allows the believers the privilege of participating in uniting with Jesus.

How do you envision this scene? Why do the believers not simply wait for Jesus to reach the earth? What is the meaning of this meeting? What happens next?

Presumably the believers and Jesus will not remain suspended in the air indefinitely. The next logical stop is a voyage either to earth or heaven.

David J. Williams (1933-2008) speculates:

We are not told what will follow that meeting in the air, but the imagery suggested by apantēsis...points to the earth as their final destination (the citizens who had gone out to meet him, escorting the new arrival back to their city). Paul, however, is not concerned to answer our questions as to what will follow, except to say that the saints will be with [syn] the Lord forever (cf. II Corinthians 13:4; Philippians 1:23 for the same use of syn to mark our eternal companionship with Christ). (Williams, 1 & 2 Thessalonians (New International Biblical Commentary), 85)

Jon A. Weatherly (b. 1958) concludes:

Speculation is rife as to whether the Lord leads his people to heaven or back to earth after this meeting. It must suffice to make two observations at this point: (1) nothing in this text expresses or implies anything on the subject; (2) the point which Paul does stress here is not where these events will conclude but with whom, as the next sentence indicates. (Weatherly, 1 & 2 Thessalonians (The College Press NIV Commentary, 161)

Paul’s emphasis is that there will be no subsequent parting: “We shall always be with the Lord” (I Thessalonians 4:17).

The text invites many other questions, queries that have persisted into the present. For instance, the passage reveals no indication of timing. This is because Paul does not include this statement to satisfy eschatological curiosity. His primary purpose is to assure the Thessalonians that the dead and living will be together; no believer is left behind.

This has proven problematic. Angus Paddison (b. 1979) records:

In The City of God, XX...Augustine [354-430] wrestles with the apparent problem–are those who will be found alive upon Jesus’ return never to experience death? Augustine considers the possibility that while we are being carried through the air, the living pass with ‘wondrous swiftness’ from death to immortality. (Paddison, Theological Hermeneutics and 1 Thessalonians (Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series, 124)

The First Epistle to the Thessalonians is written very early and addresses the issue of what happens to believers who die before Christ’s return. There was a sense that the second coming (or Parousia) was imminent. Paul’s own hopes of living to that day are hinted at with his inclusion of himself among the living, “we who are alive” (I Thessalonians 4:17). As such, there was a very real concern that the deceased had truly missed out.

Paul Nadim Tarazi (b. 1943) cautions:

The New Testament generally and Paul’s epistles particularly are not comprehensive theological treatises divided in a series of well designed chapters. It is thus wrong to imagine that these two verses [I Thessalonians 4:16-17] contain the whole of the early church teaching on the coming of the Lord Jesus. The reason is that Paul is usually satisfied with the emphasis on the specific point of importance to his addressees. Now in this text the Thessalonians are not inquiring about the Lord’s coming as such, but rather about the fate of their deceased relatives and friends; consequently the Apostle’s answer is restricted to that. (Tarazi, 1 Thessalonians: A Commentary (Orthodox Biblical Studies), 149-50)

Eschatology is actually an afterthought to this passage. The real issue is death and Paul’s objective is to provide assurance.

N.T. Wright (b. 1948) affirms:

Paul’s purpose here is not speculation, but comfort. We, for different days, may need to change the imagery to make the point. We may find it more intelligible to speak of Christ’s ‘appearing’ – as Paul himself does elsewhere – than his downward ‘descent’. But his point is that we can be confident in God’s future purposes for those Christians who have died. There will be grief, of course; but there is also hope. (Wright, Paul for Everyone: Galatians and Thessalonians,126)

David Luckensmeyer (b. 1974) pronounces:

I Thessalonians 4:17 contains the climax of the pericope and the strongest affirmation of the Jesus-followers in Thessalonica. When Paul employs the motifs of translation, meeting the Lord and of always being with him, he offers a basis for community identity and existence which transcends the current social disintegration — even death. (Luckensmeyer, The Eschatology of First Thessalonians, 268)

Linda McKinnish Bridges (b. 1953) applies:

The scene Paul paints with literary energy and flair in I Thessalonians 4:16-17 is a dramatic reminder that God is present. God is present in the midst of the demonic world. God is present in the middle of death. God is present in the midst of loneliness and sorrow. God is present and powerful. The members of the community in Thessaloniki, therefore, need not be afraid. They will always be with the Lord; they will always be with their loved ones. This is the comfort that Paul provides. The highly dramatic metaphors and symbols help Paul to articulate that assurance—that God is always present, even in death. (Bridges, 1 & 2 Thessalonians: (Smyth & Helwys Bible Commentary), 127)

Death separates, Christ reconciles. Deceased believers have not only not missed their reunion with Jesus but will also be reunited with living fellow believers.

Do you have faith that you will see your loved ones after they have died? If so, what is this assurance based upon?

“We want to reach the kingdom of God, but we don’t want to travel by way of death. And yet there stands Necessity saying: ‘This way, please.’ Do not hesitate, man, to go this way, when this is the way that God came to you.” - Augustine (354-430)

Restoring Mephibosheth (II Samuel 4:4)

How old was Mephibosheth when the nurse dropped him and he became lame? Five years (II Samuel 4:4)

Much like Russia’s Romanov dynasty was collectively expunged in 1917, Israel’s royal family is largely eradicated in one day when King Saul and three of his sons are killed in battle on Mount Gilboa (I Samuel 31:1-2). After their deaths, the kingdom is temporarily divided as David and Saul’s remaining son, Ishbosheth, make competing claims on the vacant throne (II Samuel 2:1-11). The resulting civil war ends when Ishbosheth is assassinated by two of his own commanders, Rekab and Baanah (II Samuel 4:1-7).

While recounting Ishbosheth’s murder, the text adds in passing that there was another tragic consequence of the battle at Mount Gilboa: the crippling of Jonathan’s son (and Saul’s grandson) Mephibosheth (II Samuel 4:4).

Now Jonathan, Saul’s son, had a son crippled in his feet. He was five years old when the report of Saul and Jonathan came from Jezreel, and his nurse took him up and fled. And it happened that in her hurry to flee, he fell and became lame. And his name was Mephibosheth. (II Samuel 4:4 NASB)

Though the narrative aside introduces the recurring character of Mephibosheth (II Samuel 4:4, 9:1-13, 16:1-4, 19:24-30, 21:7-8), it reads as a non sequitur.

Hans Wilhelm Hertzberg (1895-1965) acknowledges:

The description of how this—evidently the only—son of Jonathan became lame has no connection with this narrative. It would be in place in chapter 9, to which some commentators would transfer it. Perhaps it is meant to say here, ‘that after the death of Ishbaal there was no suitable claimant to the throne from the house of Saul’ (Friedrich Nötscher [1890-1966]). This is, of course, uncertain (cf. II Samuel 21), but not impossible. The marginal note would have been incorporated into the text with other gloss. The narrative proper has II Samuel 4:5 immediately after II Samuel 4:2. (Hertzberg, I & II Samuel: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 264)

Ronald F. Youngblood (b. 1931) speculates:

Jonathan’s son Mephibosheth is introduced parenthetically to demonstrate this his youth and physical handicap disqualify him for rule in the north. Symon Patrick [1606-1707]...provides another possible reason: “to show, what it was that emboldened these Captains [Banaaj and Recab] to do what follows: Because he, who was the next Avenger of Blood, was very young; and besides was lame and unable to pursue them.” (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] and David E. Garland [b. 1947], 1 Samuel-2 Kings (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary), 337)

Whatever the reason for his inclusion at this point, as soon as Mephibosheth is mentioned, the subject is immediately dropped (pun intended).

Mephibosheth is also known as Merib-baal (I Chronicles 8:34, 9:40). It has been speculated that the name has been bowdlerized.

A.A. Anderson (b. 1924) surmises:

“Mephibosheth” may be a deliberate distortion of the original name by substituting one element of the compound proper name by “bosheth” (בחת) meaning “shame”...However, some scholars regard “bosheth” as a divine epithet...The former alternative is more likely because in the Books of Chronicles we find what appears to be the original form of the proper name. There are two variants: Meribaal (בעל ’מר) in I Chronicles 9:40 and Meribbaal (בעל ב’מר) in I Chronicles 8:34, 9:40. The former variant may be derived from the latter (so Matitiahu Tsevat [1913-2010]) meaning, perhaps, “Baal contends.” (Anderson, 2 Samuel (Word Biblical Commentary), 69-70)

Peter R. Ackroyd (1917-2005) asserts:

The name has undergone a double change. The first part was altered so as to suggest the meaning ‘exterminator or Baal,’ and the second part to avoid uttering the detested name of Baal. (Ackroyd, The Second Book of Samuel (Cambridge Bible Commentaries on the New English Bible), 49)

Mephibosheth’s fate is tragic. In the aftermath of the defeat at Gilboa, the fear of reprisals sets off panic within Saul’s household and they flee. Five year old Mephibosheth is crippled during the escape when his nurse, who has presumably scooped up the child in an effort to save time, drops him (II Samuel 4:4). This misfortune would plague Mephibosheth for the remainder of his life (II Samuel 9:3, 19:26). Unable to walk, Mephibosheth would never ascend the throne.

Steven J. Andrews (b. 1954) and Robert D. Bergen (b. 1954) review:

Mephibosheth...was lame in both feet due to a tragic accident during his early childhood. At the time of his father’s death (I Samuel 31:2) there was a very real fear that the Philistines would continue their advances southward from Mount Gilboa to Israel’s then-capital city of Gibeah. Members of the royal family were evacuated from the area to preserve an heir to the throne. As Mephibosheth’s nurse picked him up and fled she fell, with the result that he became crippled. (Andrews and Bergen, I & II Samuel (Holman Old Testament Commentary), 214-15)

The family’s fear was understandable. Charles R. Swindoll (b. 1934) explains:

According to some ancient customs, when the king died and a new dynasty began to rule, all of the descendants of the old king were annihilated. So when Mephibosheth’s nurse heard that both Saul and Jonathan, Mephibosheth’s father, had been killed, she took matters into her own hands. (Swindoll, The Mystery of God’s Will, 126)

Mephibosheth is dropped by his “nurse” (ASV, CEV, ESV, KJV, MSG, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV, RSV). Jo Ann Hackett (b. 1949) defines:

The nurse (Hebrew ’ōmenet) of Mephibosheth...is not necessarily a wet nurse (Hebrew mēneqet), but rather simply someone who takes care of him. The same root is used for female and male caretakers elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible...In this case the caregiver is made responsible for the lameness of her five-year old charge. The child falls as the nurse whisks him away from danger. (Carol L. Meyers [b. 1942], Toni Craven [b. 1944] and Ross S. Kraemer [b. 1948], Women in Scripture: A Dictionary of Named and Unnamed Women in the Hebrew Bible, the Apocryphal/Deuterocanonical Books, and the New Testament, 260)

Regardless of what her position entailed, a person enlisted to help the child is responsible for his greatest wound. Johanna W. H. Van Wijk-Bos (b. 1940) observes:

In the episode of Ishobshet’s murder, two...women appear, both in some way falling short in their responsibilities. First, a nurse appears, who fled in the aftermath of the defeat at Gilboa with one of Jonathan’s sons, Mephibosheth...“In her haste to flee,” the narrator reports, “he fell and was lame” (II Samuel 4:4). A change of subject in the sentence avoids a direct mention of the nurse’s failure—i.e., that she dropped the child—but the inference is clear enough. Finally, at the time the two killers enter their master’s quarters, a female guardian at the door may have been derelict in her duty: “And look, the woman who kept the gate, had been gleaning wheat and nodded and fell asleep” (II Samuel 4:6 in the reading of the Septuagint). Two women, even if they do not engage in outright criminal behavior, certainly participate in the demise of the house of Saul, one leaving the sole descendant lame, symbolic for a crippled house, the other unable to warn her master of his impending doom, futile though it might have been. (Wijk-Bos, Reading Samuel: A Literary and Theological Commentary, 170)

Mephibosheth’s injury is severe. V. Philips Long (b. 1951) diagnoses:

That...Mephibosheth...is described as lame in both feet may suggest a spinal cord injury. It is also possible that he received (compound) fractures that either were not or could not be set properly...Medicine designed to treat illness and injury was practiced in the ancient Near East from early times. An Egyptian medical papyrus copied by scribes from older texts (ca. 1700 B.C.), for example, provides systematic instructions for the diagnosis and treatment of a host of injuries, beginning with the head and moving downward (the text is discontinued and reaches no further than the upper arm and ribs). One section describes a serious spinal cord injury. (John H. Walton [b. 1952], Joshua, Judges, Ruth, 1 & 2 Samuel (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 427)

Kevin J. Mellish (b. 1968) adds:

The term used for Mephibosheth’s inability to walk (vayîpāsēah) is etymologically similar to the term that refers to the “Passover” (pesah) in Jewish tradition. Ironically, whereas the slaughter of a lamb commemorated a series of events that led to the Israelites’ freedom from bondage in the Exodus tradition, in this setting, the crippling of a child’s feet is connected with the opportunity for David to take control of Saul’s kingdom. As much as the text anticipates David’s role as ruler over Israel it also looks forward to Mephibosheth’s future relationship with David. When David rules as king from Jerusalem, he had Mephibosheth stay with him and “eat at [his] table” (II Samuel 9:7-13). (Mellish, 1 & 2 Samuel: A Commentary in the Wesleyan Tradition (New Beacon Bible Commentary), 193)

The injury is life changing, even more so than it would be today. Elias Yemane evaluates:

The term “crippled in both feet” implies four characteristics: (1) economic vulnerability; (2) physical vulnerability; (3) permanent immobility; and (4) religious alienation. (Yemane, Mephibosheth: Transformation by a Covenant Love, 27)

Mephibosheth’s disability shapes his future and he allows it to largely define him. He will later refer to himself as a “dead dog” (II Samuel 9:8).

Jeremy Schipper (b. 1975) reflects:

The David Story mentions his “lameness” almost every time his character appears in II Samuel (II Samuel 4:4, 9:3, 13, 19:27). While the royal ideal in the ancient Near East was a strong body with every physical feature properly placed (e.g. the depiction of Naram-Sîn), Mephibosheth is represented as “lame in both feet” (II Samuel 9:13)...By mentioning his disability in chapter 9, some suggest that the David Story contrasts Mephibosheth’s entrance into Jerusalem with David’s in chapter 6. In II Samuel 19:27, Mephibosheth’s disability marks him as one who has difficulty going out to war. When David asks him why he did not flee Jerusalem with the king, he cites his need for a donkey to ride because of his disability...A “lame” person who must ride a donkey hardly fits the ideal of the ancient Near Eastern king leading successful military campaigns. The representation of the last Saulide suggests to the reader that he lacks the properly portioned physique and military prowess of an ideal king. (Schipper, Disability Studies and the Hebrew Bible: Figuring Mephibosheth in the David Story, 96)

The injury effectively disqualifies Mephibosheth from the throne. James E. Smith (b. 1939) deduces:

The Beerothites felt confident that the assassination of Ish-Bosheth would lead directly to David’s succession. Only one other direct descendant of Saul remained alive, but he was not a viable candidate for the throne. Jonathan had a son named Mephibosheth who was lame in both feet, (literally, “smitten of feet”). Before the fateful battle of Gilboa, the Israelite army had been camped at Jezreel (I Samuel 29:1). When news came from Jezreel of the death of Saul and Jonathan, the nurse (nanny) fled with the child. Unfortunately she had dropped the child. This caused permanent lameness. The text does not relate where Mephibosheth and his nurse were when they heard the news; they could have been in Gibeah, Saul’s hometown. Both his youth (he was twelve at this time) and his disability made Mephibosheth unwilling or unable to press his claim to the throne. (Smith, 1 & 2 Samuel (The College Press NIV Commentary), 368)

Robert Alter (b. 1935) summarizes:

The notice is inserted here to make clear that after the murder of Ish-bosheth, there will be no fit heir left from the house of Saul, for Saul’s one surviving grandson is crippled. (Alter, The David Story: A Translation with Commentary of 1 and 2 Samuel, 218)

Through one unintentional slip, one unfortunate moment, a child who was born to be king instantaneously became a “dead dog” who moved from the forefront to the background of history.

When you meet someone who is injured, are you curious as to how they arrived at their condition? Why? Why is a nurse carrying a five-year old; could Mephibosheth have had a preexisting medical condition? What royals have been maimed in more modern times? Would you be less accepting of an injured leader? What national leaders have had significant disabilities, e.g. Franklin D. Roosevelt [1882-1945]? Who do you know who has been irrevocably affected by an incident from childhood?

Despite the tragedy, there is still hope for Mephibosheth and his family. Robert D. Bergen (b. 1954) contextualizes:

The most important event of II Samuel 4 is the death of Ish-Bosheth. But in order to dispel the notion that might arise in the reader’s mind that Ish-Bosheth’s death meant the final destruction of the Saulide family, the writer inserts here a note concerning Mephibosheth, son of “Jonathan son of Saul.” (Bergen, 1, 2 Samuel (New American Commentary), 316)

Whereas the nurse drops Mephibosheth, his father’s friend, King David will pick him up. Walter Brueggemann (b. 1933) comments:

This is an exceedingly curious note inserted in the middle of the Ishbosheth narrative. It disrupts the story line but does pertain to Ishbosheth’s fate. Ishbosheth is destined for death, whereas his nephew Mephibosheth is headed for mercy. In terms of the total David plot, this verse stands midway between I Samuel 20:14-17 and II Samuel 9:1-8. The subject of these two passages is the kindness (hesed) of David toward Jonathan. In the former, David promised Jonathan that he would not cut off his “loyalty” to the house and name of Jonathan. In the latter, David now keeps that promise by asking if there is anyone left of the house of Saul to whom the king may show kindness. David promises hesed and fulfills that promise. Mephibosheth is the channel for the fulfillment of the promise. Thus this verse sets the stage for the affirmation that David is a man of hesed who keeps vows, honors friends, and shows mercy to those with whom he is bound...The name of Mephibosheth is intended to remind the listener of David’s hesed. This peculiar verse, then, is a device for asserting that David would not do damage to Ishbosheth, who also comes under the vow made to Jonathan in I Samuel 20:14-17. II Samuel 4:4 reminds us of hesed in a chapter otherwise devoid of any dimension of mercy, fidelity, or generosity. (Brueggemann, First and Second Samuel (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 234)

In allowing Mephibosheth to routinely dine at his table (II Samuel 9:13), David violates his own royal decree forbidding “the blind or the lame from entering Jerusalem (II Samuel 5:6-8).

Eugene H. Peterson (b. 1932) notes:

David will deal with an actual individual who is lame—Mephibosheth (II Samuel 9). David will bring him into the city and into his home with honor, treating him with the utmost respect. David’s actions are better than his words. (Peterson, First and Second Samuel (Westminster Bible Companion), 159)

It is harder to discriminate against someone that is standing in front of you with their humanity on full display and David does not reject his friend’s son. After reaping the benefits of David’s kindness, Mephibosheth is a royal who is maimed but restored.

Max Lucado (b. 1955) correlates:

Mephibosheth is bracketed into the Bible. The verse doesn’t tell us much, just his name (Mephibosheth), his calamity (dropped by his nurse), his deformity (crippled), and then it moves on...But that’s enough to raise a few questions...If his story is beginning to sound familiar, it should. You and he have a lot in common. Weren’t you also born of royalty? And don’t you carry the wounds of a fall? And hasn’t each of us lived in fear of a king we have never seen? (Lucado, Cast of Characters: Common People in the Hands of an Uncommon God, 33-34)

Can you identify with Mephibosheth, a character presented largely as a victim? Why? Why not? What in your life is in need of restoration? Do you have hope that God will restore you?

“I am conscious of a soul-sense that lifts me above the narrow, cramping circumstances of my life. My physical limitations are forgotten- my world lies upward, the length and the breadth and the sweep of the heavens are mine!” - Helen Keller (1880-1968), The Story Of My Life: With Her Letters (1887--1901) And A Supplementary Account Of Her Education, Including Passages From The Reports And Letters Of Her Teacher, Anne Mansfield Sullivan, p. 111

Traveling a Rocky Road (Luke 10:25-37)

Where did the story of the Good Samaritan take place? On the road to Jericho (Luke 10:30)

“The Parable of the Good Samaritan” is one of Jesus’ most famous illustrations (Luke 10:25-37). The famed story, found only in Luke’s gospel, is told in response to an inquiry as to the definition of “neighbor” (Luke 10:29). The parable describes a highway robbery in which a traveler is brutally ambushed by brigands (Luke 10:30). After two respected members of the religious establishment pass the victim without helping a Samaritan goes out of his way to assist the fallen traveler (Luke 10:31-33). The fact that Jesus paints a Samaritan, a reviled race by Jews of his day, as the hero would have shocked the original audience. After unleashing this thinly veiled diatribe against prejudice and religious leadership, Jesus concludes the discourse by letting the audience determine who in the story is the neighbor (Luke 10:36).

A unique facet of this parable is that Jesus gives it a clearly defined real world setting: the traveler is attacked between Jerusalem to Jericho (Luke 10:30).

Jesus replied and said, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among robbers, and they stripped him and beat him, and went away leaving him half dead. (Luke 10:30 NASB)

While the story is fictional, its landscape is not. This twist adds a heavy dose of realism to the parable.

This may be another incidence of Jesus finding a teachable moment based on his own physical location. Peter Rhea Jones (b. 1937) speculates:

It is possible that Jesus was standing on or near the Jericho road when he spoke the parable since Bethany is on the same road and the next pericopé centers there. Certainly the parables usually associated with Galilee are not peopled with priestly sorts, whereas this parable may well have been uttered in Judea, a region more related to the Temple. (Jones, Studying the Parables of Jesus, 295)

Specifically the traveler is “going down” from Jerusalem to Jericho, situated east of Jerusalem in the Jordan valley (Luke 10:30). Encountering priests on this journey is not surprising.

Klyne Snodgrass (b. 1944) informs:

Jericho was such a popular residence for priests that estimates suggest that half of the twenty-four orders of priests (cf. I Chronicles 24:1-19) lived there, although this may be an exaggeration. Each order would serve in the Temple for one week. (cf. Luke 1:8). (Snodgrass, Stories With Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus, 345)

From Christianity’s earliest days, the parable’s setting was interpreted allegorically. Marcion of Sinope (85-160) posed that the backdrop was appropriate because Jesus was the true Good Samaritan and he appeared for the first time in history between Jerusalem and Jericho.

Arland J. Hultgren (b. 1939) relays:

Why Jericho? Augustine [354-430] allegorized the parable, saying that the descent signified the loss of immortality as the man went from the heavenly city (Jerusalem) to one that signified mortality (Jericho). It is more likely, however, that Jesus chose Jericho as the destination because the road to it was known to be a treacherous and dangerous route. (Hultgren, The Parables of Jesus: A Commentary, 95)

Though “road” is not explicitly in the text, the path taken can be definitively located as there were few alternate routes. In Scripture, one always goes “up” to Jerusalem and down from the Holy City and in this case the terminology was quite literal.

Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) describes:

According to Josephus [37-100], Bellum Judaicum 4.8,3 § 474, this was a distance of 150 stadioi (about eighteen miles) through “desert and rocky” country. Reference would be to the Roman road through passes and the Wadi Qelt; one would descend over 2500 feet above sea level (Jerusalem) to 770 feet below it (Jericho)...Josephus also mentions it as the way taken by the Legio X Fretensis [41-40 BC] en route from Jericho for the siege of Jerusalem (Bellum Judaicum 5.2, 3 § 69-70). (Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to Luke X-XXIV: Introduction, Translation, and Notes (The Anchor Bible), 886)

Darrel L. Bock (b. 1953) adds:

Traveling the road from Jerusalem to Jericho (another journey going the other direction is found in II Chronicles 28:15), he would have gone through the Pass of Adummim (Joshua 18:17), a name that is related to the Hebrew word for blood. This journey had a reputation for being dangerous long before Jesus’ time...It was a rocky thoroughfare winding through the desert and surrounded by caves, which made good hideouts for robbers who laid in wait. Even centuries after Christ’s time, robbers continued to exploit travelers on this road. (Bock, Luke 9:51-24:53 (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 1029)

The road’s topography leant itself to treachery. It possessed a sharp, steep descent. Situated in wild, desolate country, its curved path limited a traveler’s line of sight.

I. Howard Marshall (b. 1934) summarizes:

The man was travelling (κατέβαινεν – imperfect) from Jerusalem to Jericho along a road which...runs through desert and rocky country, well suited for brigands (Josephus Bellum Judaicum 4:474; Strabo 16:2:41 describes how Pompey destroyed brigands here, and Jerome [347-420] (in Jeremiah 3:2) spoke of Arab robbers in his time). It is not surprising that on his journey the man encountered robbers. (Marshall, The Gospel of Luke (New International Greek Testament Commentary, 447)

The road’s destination of Jericho also supplied ideal prey. Trent C. Butler (b. 1941) reports:

Herod [73-4 BC] had built New Testament Jericho as his winter palace on the same spot Hasmonean rulers had earlier built their palace. Herod included three palaces, a swimming pool, and a sunken garden. Thus, government officials frequently made the trip from Jerusalem to Jericho as did Jewish religious and political leaders. Criminals took advantage of the upper class’s need to travel this winding, crooked road through dangerous passes. They hid behind large rocks above narrow passes and preyed on travelers. (Butler, Luke (Holman Bible Commentary), 172)

The road has long had a nefarious reputation. Josephus (37-100) characterized the road as dangerous (Bellum Judaicum 4.451-475) and notes how some commuters took weapons to protect themselves as they traveled this road and others like it (Bellum Judaicum 2.8.4 §125).

The road’s reputation persisted for centuries. William Barclay (1907-1978) researches:

There is an extant letter dated A.D. 171 in which a complaint is made to the government by two dealers in pigs. They too had fallen into the hands of brigands “who assaulted us with very many stripes, wounding Pasion, robbed us of a pig and carried off Pasion’s coat.” In the fifth century Jerome [347-420] tells us that it was still called “The Red or Bloody Way.” Even as late as the middle of the nineteenth century travellers had to pay safety money to the local Sheiks if they wished to be safe from the attacks of the Bedouin...The grim history of the road extends even to our own time. H.V. Morton [1892-1979] in his book In the Steps of the Master writes, “When I told a friend that I intended to run down to the Dead Sea for a day he said, “Well, be careful to get back before dark.’ ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘You might meet Abu Jildah...’ ‘Who is Abu Jildah?’ ‘He is a brigand who has shot several policemen. There is a price of £250 on his head, and he has a habit of building a wall of stones across the Jericho road, stopping cars, robbing you, and if you resist, shooting you. So take my tip and get back before dusk...’” Even in the early 1930's this very road was still a danger to spot for the unwary traveller. (Barclay, The Parables of Jesus, 79-80)

Richard Gribble (b. 1952) adds:

In 1118, during the period of the Crusades, the Knight Order of Templars was formed to defend pilgrims on this path. As late as the nineteenth century, pilgrims received protection from Turkish soldiers along the way. (Gribble, The Parables of Jesus: Applications for Contemporary Life, Cycle C, 104)

Even if the reader is unfamiliar with the road’s well-deserved reputation, it quickly reveals itself in the events that transpire.

Remnants of the road still exist today. Henry Wansbrough (b. 1934) relays:

The old path from Jerusalem to Jericho runs down the Wadi Qilt, a deep, twisting canyon with rocky sides and blistering heat, some four hours’ smart walk. Today you can round a corner and find yourself in the middle of a flock of goats, herded by a bedouin boy and his noisy dogs. Just as easily it could be the bandits of Jesus tale. (Wansbrough, Luke: A Guide for Reflection and Prayer (Daily Bible Commentary), 95)

The old road, however, was even more menacing than the present one. It was considered especially dangerous even at a time when travel was customarily hazardous. Given this setting, the listener anticipates the story and is prepared for the violence that transpires. It is almost expected. There are modern equivalents.

N.T. Wright (b. 1948) relates:

Few Israelis today will travel from Galilee to Jerusalem by the direct route, because it will take them through the West Bank and risk violence. In exactly the same way, most first-century pilgrims making the same journey would prefer, as Jesus himself did, to travel down the Jordan valley to Jericho and then turn west up the hill to Jerusalem. It was much safer...But still not completely safe. The desert road from Jericho to Jerusalem had many turns and twists, and brigands could lurk out of sight in the nearby hills and valleys, ready to strike. A lonely traveller was an easy target. (Wright, Luke for Everyone, 127)

Darrel L. Bock (b. 1953) compares:

The cultural equivalent today might be a trip through parts of the inner city in the middle of the night. This road was hazardous, as the man who falls among robbers finds out. Thieves took advantage of the caves that lined the road as it wound through the desert, jumping travelers as they passed through. (Bock, Luke (The NIV Application Commentary), 300)

Given this reputation, some interpreters have viewed the traveler as irresponsible. William Barclay (1907-1978) indites:

The traveller...was obviously a reckless and foolhardy character. People seldom attempted the Jerusalem to Jericho road alone if they were carrying goods or valuables. Seeking safety in numbers, they travelled in convoys or caravans. This man had no one but himself to blame for the plight in which he found himself. (Barclay, The Gospel of Luke (Daily Study Bible Series), 165)

It is worth mentioning that the story’s hero, the Samaritan, is not critiqued for being companionless. Neither is the priest nor the Levite.

Frank Stern (b. 1936) reminds:

One of the surprising aspects of the parable was that all the travelers journeyed alone. Usually, people traveled the highway in groups. When the Essenes passed through, they carried weapons to protect themselves from robbers. (Stern, A Rabbi Looks At Jesus’ Parables, 220)

In fact, the traveler is completely nondescript. He may or may not have been reckless. Given his location, many have deduced that he is Jewish. This, however, is not stated. The only thing that can be stated conclusively about him is that he is in need of help. And for “good Samaritans” that is all that need be known.

Why does Jesus place his parable on a road synonymous with violence? How would the story change if set on an anonymous road? Does Jesus himself ever walk this path? Is the traveler in any way to blame for his predicament? If so, would he be less deserving of help? What is the modern-day equivalent of the road from Jerusalem to Jericho? Where do you feel uncomfortable walking alone? When have you been saddened but not shocked about events based upon where they occurred?

The setting prepares the reader for the story by eliciting an expectation for both violence and the presence of priests. These expectations also pave the road for the surprise: the startling answer to the question of “Who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10:29) The plot moves from the common occurrence of robbery to the uncommon help of the Samaritan. The story ends with the jarring charge to be the neighbor the Good Samaritan is: to help those in peril (Luke 10:37).

But even at the story’s conclusion, the road remains. Warren W. Wiersbe (b. 1929) critiques:

The road from Jerusalem down to Jericho was indeed a dangerous one. Since the temple workers used it so much, you would have thought the Jews or Romans would have taken steps to make it safe. It is much easier to maintain a religious system than it is to improve the neighborhood. (Wiersbe, Be Compassionate: Let the World Know That Jesus Cares (Luke 1-13), 115)

Martin Luther King, Jr. (1929-1968) challenges:

On the one hand, we are called to play the Good Samaritan on life’s roadside, but that will be only an initial act. One day we must come to see that the whole Jericho Road must be changed so that men and women will not be constantly beaten and robbed as they make their journey on life’s highway. True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar. A true revolution of values will soon look uneasily on the glaring contrast of poverty and wealth with righteous indignation. (King, “Why I Am Opposed to the War in Vietnam,” speech delivered April 30, 1967; The Riverside Church, New York).

Why was the road from Jerusalem to Jericho allowed to remain so vulnerable? What “road repair” needs to be done in your area? How can you help?

“Any revolution has to start with the transformation of the individual, otherwise individuals are corrupted by the power they get if their revolution succeeds.” - Wes “Scoop” Nisker (b. 1942)

Voice Recognition: (I Samuel 3:1-14)

Whose voice did young Samuel think he heard when God called him three times? Eli’s (I Samuel 3:4-8)

The third chapter of First Samuel describes a time of limited prophetic activity (not unlike our own) when “word from the Lord was rare” and “visions were infrequent” (I Samuel 3:1 NASB). The priest Eli and his young protégé Samuel are lying down at the Shiloh temple (I Samuel 3:2), the former resting by the ark of the covenant (I Samuel 3:3). After three verses establishing a highly ordinary setting, the pace picks up when God initiates action.

The Lord called Samuel; and he said, “Here I am.” Then he 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. (I Samuel 3:4-5 NASB)

When called, Samuel excitedly runs to answer the priest (I Samuel 3:5). His youthful enthusiasm is misdirected as he mistakenly interprets the voice’s origin. Fortunately, God’s call is deliberate and persistent. Undeterred, the Lord awakens Samuel four times (I Samuel 3:4, 6, 8, 10). In a comedic scene, three times the confused young man awakens Eli. After the third attempt, the seasoned priest recognizes that God is calling Samuel and instructs his pupil to respond in kind (I Samuel 3:8-9). The fourth time is the charm as Samuel receives the revelatory word (I Samuel 3:10-14). As such, Samuel first hears the voice of God while literally lying down on the job (I Samuel 3:4).

The setting is significant, symbolic of the nation’s theological predicament. Richard D. Phillips (b. 1960) observes:

The setting for Samuel’s calling is provocatively stated: “The lamp of God had not yet gone out” (I Samuel 3:3). This indicates that it was in the early hours before dawn that God called to Samuel, since the lamps were kept lit until morning. But this was also symbolically true: the lamp of God’s presence in Israel was dim but not completely out. In such a setting, the voice of the Lord was once more heard within his house. (Phillips, 1 Samuel (Reformed Expository Commentary), 65)

The light is scarce but it is not yet extinguished. The voice in the darkness mirrors the hope for renewal embodied in Samuel.

Kevin J. Mellish (b. 1968) adds:

The location where Eli and Samuel slept at the time of the theophany is also symbolic. Eli was in his own room and separated from the ark. Samuel was lying down in the temple...where the ark of God was (I Samuel 3:3). Based on this description, Samuel must have slept in the inner sanctuary where the ark resided. It is noteworthy that Samuel, the prophet/priest designate, remained near the presence of God, which was symbolized by the ark of the covenant. Eli, the soon to be deposed priest, slept at a distance from it. The imagery is fitting considering that Yahweh’s presence no longer abided with Eli as it was with Samuel, This is also the first, albeit brief, reference to the ark in Samuel. (Mellish, 1 & 2 Samuel: A Commentary in the Wesleyan Tradition (New Beacon Bible Commentary), 61)

Some have posed that Samuel’s position indicates that he is seeking just such a divine encounter. V. Philips Long (b. 1951) explains:

That Samuel is described as “lying down in the temple of the LORD, where the ark of God was” (I Samuel 3:3), has led some to speculate that he may have been engaging in a well-attested ancient Near Eastern practice called “incubation.” Incubation involves spending a night in the temple precinct in the hope of receiving a divine or oracular dream. The practice is attested among the Egyptians, with manuals of dream interpretation being used as early as the New Kingdom period, among the Hittites of Anatolia, and in Canaan during the biblical period...Extrabiblical examples of such theophanies, or auditory message dreams as they are sometimes called, come from Egypt (Thutmose IV, fifteenth century), Ugarit (in both the Kirta Epic and ‘Aqhatu Legend), Hatti (Hattušiliš, thirteenth century), and Babylonia (Nabonidus, sixth century). (John H. Walton [b. 1952], Joshua, Judges, Ruth, 1 & 2 Samuel (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 282-83)

Ralph W. Klein (b. 1936) counters:

We are not told why Samuel slept by the ark. The view that he was participating in some kind of incubation ritual seems contradicted by his repeated suspicion that Eli—and not God—was calling him. (Klein, 1 Samuel (Word Biblical Commentary), 32)

Instead, Samuel is likely taking his turn in fulfilling priestly duties. Robert D. Bergen (b. 1954) assumes:

While Samuel was fulfilling the Torah obligations to tend the lamp of God (cf. Leviticus 24:3; Numbers 18:23), the Lord called the youth and delivered a message of judgment to him. In a form paralleling Abraham, Jacob, and Moses’ obedient responses to divine calls (Genesis 22:1, 11, 31:11; Exodus 3:4), Samuel responded, “Here I am” (I Samuel 3:4). Because he did not initially know the Lord, however, Samuel at first went to Eli for further instructions (I Samuel 3:5-6, 8)...It is...probable that the writer included this note to demonstrate Samuel’s diligence in fulfilling Torah mandates. As a son of Aaron, Eli was required “to keep the lamps burning before the LORD from evening till morning” (Exodus 27:21; cf. Leviticus 24:3; also Numbers 18:23). However, since Eli apparently was too old for active service before Yahweh as a priest (cf. Numbers 8:23-26), the Levite Samuel was permitted to act as his surrogate in this matter (cf. Numbers 18:23). (Bergen, 1, 2 Samuel (New American Commentary), 86)

God calls Samuel while he is already on duty. Though Samuel does not know who is calling, he responds promptly and politely. Josephus (37-100) records that Samuel is only twelve years old at the time (Antiquities of the Jews 5.10.4).

It is clear that Samuel perceives the voice audibly, originating outside of himself. T.M. Luhrmann (b. 1959) determines:

The striking phenomenonological detail is that Samuel looked for the source of the voice. When someone gives you that detail—they heard a voice and then looked to see who was speaking—it is good evidence that they heard the voice with their ears. (Luhrmann, When God Talks Back: Understanding the American Evangelical Relationship with God, 344)

Samuel’s call marks a rare instance of a human hearing the audible call of God. Steven J. Andrews (b. 1954) and Robert D. Bergen (b. 1954) characterize Samuel’s experience:

Being so physically close to the Lord’s throne, Samuel was bound to meet him. All of chapters 1 and 2 has led up to this point. God was going to do something wonderful with this young man who was dedicated by his parents to minister before the Lord...Here was the moment of contact. Here was God’s call. It was personal and face-to-face. It was private when no one else was around. It came in God’s house in the early morning. Samuel answered...but he didn’t know who called him. He heard, but he wasn’t listening...God is certainly persistent. The verb call occurs eleven times in I Samuel 3:4-10. Anyone who has ever experienced a call from God can tell you that sometimes it is relentless. God does not give up. (Andrews and Bergen, I & II Samuel (Holman Old Testament Commentary), 32-33)

Samuel incorrectly assumes that the voice he hears is Eli’s. To explain this error, the text offers a narrative aside to remind the reader that Samuel has yet to hear the voice of God; Samuel is not yet the legendary prophet (I Samuel 3:7). One can hardly blame Samuel for his failure to recognize the voice. God has not spoken to him previously and Eli’s is the most likely voice. In this secluded setting, who else would be calling him?

Mary J. Evans (b. 1949) muses:

The story continues with the young Samuel asleep in the area where the ark of God was kept, a fact that shows how fully he had been integrated into priestly service. He hears a voice and immediately goes to Eli—maybe it was a regular occurrence for the almost blind Eli to need help. Samuel’s willingness to get up three times in the night, apparently without complaint, to attend to the ailing old man speaks well for the character of the young priest and draws attention to his worthiness to receive the prophetic word. (Evans, 1 and 2 Samuel (New International Biblical Commentary), 28)

Samuel’s mistake is also natural as the voice of God is often filtered through human beings. Kenneth Chafin (1926-2001) acknowledges:

How easy it still is not to be able to discern God’s voice from other voices. It would be so much easier if all of God’s messages to us came with a clearly printed label: “From God.” But, as my colleague, Frank Tupper [b. 1941], says, “God speaks to us through familiar voices.” While there is a tendency to think of the more dramatic revelations of God as normative, most people experience God’s guidance in quite ordinary ways: through experiences good and bad, while reading the Scripture, through the counsel of another, or out of a growing interest. (Chafin, 1, 2 Samuel (Mastering the Old Testament), 46)

Eugene H. Peterson (b. 1932) adds:

Learning to discern the difference between human words and God’s word is basic to his prophetic and priestly life: Samuel listens. Listening is an act of personal attentiveness that develops into answering. The emphatic “Let anyone with ears listen!” with which Jesus concluded his parables (Matthew 13:9, 43) is repeated in the Spirit’s urgent messages to the churches in the Revelation (Revelation 2:7, 11, 17, 29, 3:6, 13, 22)...Samuel answers, which is to say, he prays...Samuel’s very existence is a result of prayer, the prayer of his praying mother, Hannah. The story of his call in the temple, introducing his prophetic vocation, shows him learning how to pray for himself, that is, listen to God’s personal word to him and then respond. (Peterson, First and Second Samuel (Westminster Bible Companion), 38-39)

Ironically, Eli the priest is seldom depicted speaking for God. Yet here it is Eli, not Samuel, who correctly discerns the voice of God. Eli is finally doing his job: presenting a worldview with God at its center.

Alister E. McGrath (b. 1959) writes:

On the first three occasions, Samuel assumes that the natural sound he has heard has a natural referent, and behaves accordingly...The turning point of the narrative takes place when Eli offers an alternative interpretive framework. Confronted with the evident failure of the most obvious schema, Samuel is invited to consider an alternative explanation of his experience (I Samuel 3:9). Eli can here be seen as a representative of the tradition of Israel, which offers an alternative way of interpreting nature – in this case, as a gateway to the transcendent. God is made known through the natural order. (McGrath, The Open Secret: A New Vision for Natural Theology, 176)

It might have even been presumptuous for Samuel to assume that God is calling him. Jack M. Sasson (b. 1941) elucidates:

It is not a lack of intelligence that prevents Samuel from understanding what Eli does comprehend but rather a profound psychological block. Is it possible that God is calling him rather than Eli the priest? Conversely, Eli apprehends what Samuel fails to see, not because of superior intelligence or experience, but because he lacks the inhibitions generated by self-interest. Nothing deters him from assuming that God might turn to the young servant and pass over the old priest! In this way, Eli’s humility compensates for Samuel’s. (John Kaltner[b. 1954] and Louis Stulman [b. 1953], Inspired Speech: Prophecy in the Ancient Near East Essays in Honor of Herbert B. Huffmon [b. 1933], 179)

God speaks to Samuel in such a way that causes Eli to fulfill his primary duty as priest: directing his congregant to God. In some small way, Eli redeems himself. In a sad irony, God’s message to Samuel is confirmation of the fall of Eli’s household (I Samuel 3:11-14). Tragically, Eli’s most effective act as priest occurs while mediating his displacement.

Dallas Willard (b. 1935) praises:

How wonderful that Eli recognized what was happening to young Samuel and could tell him what to do to begin his lifelong conversational walk with God! Otherwise, it might have been years before Samuel would have found his way by himself. We must not mistakenly assume that if God speaks to someone, he or she automatically knows what is happening and who is taking. If Samuel did not know, surely many others also would not. (Willard, Hearing God, Updated and Expanded: Developing a Conversational Relationship with God, 143-44)

In this case, as in many, effectively hearing God is an act of collaboration. For God’s voice to be heard, the lad needs to be open to it, but he also needs guidance from an elder.

Though the passage illuminates the struggle that clergy experience in discerning their calling, discerning the voice of God and distinguishing it from one’s own is a universal challenge that plagues clergy and laymen alike. Hearing God’s voice is often difficult. But it does not mean that God is not speaking.

Eugene H. Peterson (b. 1932) asserts:

God speaks to Samuel. That God speaks is the basic reality of biblical faith. The fundamental conviction of our faith is not so much that God is, as that God speaks. The biblical revelation begins with God creating by word, speaking the cosmos into being (Genesis 1:1-31). It concludes with Jesus, the Word of God, speaking in invitation, “Come...” (Revelation 22:17). All the pages in between are packed with sentences that God speaks—in creation and invitation, in judgment and salvation, in healing and guidance, in oracle and admonition, in rebuke and comfort. The conspicuous feature in all this speaking is that God speaks in personal address. God does not speak grand general truths, huge billboard declarations of truth and morals; the Lord’s speaking is to persons, named persons: Abraham, Moses, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Paul. And Samuel. Personal address, not philosophical discourse or moral commentary or theological reflection, is God’s primary form of speech. Whenever we let the language of religious abstraction or moral principles (and we do it often) crowd the personal address, we betray the word of God. (Peterson, First and Second Samuel (Westminster Bible Companion), 38)

Though God speaks, hearing is not often easy. Even Samuel, who literally lives in the temple, struggles to do so. Samuel’s experience demonstrates that a person can even be in the precarious position of encountering God without knowing it.

Norman J. Cohen (b. 1943) cautions:

Samuel reminds all of us how difficult it is to truly hear, see, and meet the other in our lives. When we finally do experience a moment of recognition and engagement, we sometimes are so overwhelmed that we cannot find the right words to express what we are thinking and feeling. As we are overcome with emotion, both elation and fear at the same time, words may seem impossible. (Cohen, “The Difficulty of Discerning the Call”, Hineini in Our Lives: Learning to Respond to Others Though 14 Biblical Texts & Personal Stories, 81)

Like all prophets, Samuel’s first prophetic act is to listen. His experience demonstrates that disambiguating the voice of God is a learned skill. This provides both a challenge and hope for us all as we echo Samuel’s words: “Speak, for your servant is listening (I Samuel 3:10 NASB).”

Why does God not make his identity more obvious when dealing with Samuel? When have you been called by an unfamiliar voice? If God called you, how would you know? Have you ever audibly heard God? In your mind, whose voice is most like God’s? What would have happened to Samuel had Eli failed to direct him? When has God spoken to you through a “familiar voice”? In what ways has God spoken to you? How have you been changed by the voice of God?

God speaking to Samuel forever changes his and his nation’s history. James E. Smith (b. 1939) notes:

One night (literally, “it came to pass on that day”) suggests that the day was special, a milestone in Samuel’s rise to leadership, and consequently in redemptive history. (Smith, 1 & 2 Samuel (The College Press NIV Commentary), 74)

The third chapter of First Samuel relays a coming of age story as Samuel is moving from “lad” to prophet. Samuel does not become a renowned prophet over night.

Richard L. Schultz (b. 1952) clarifies:

Hearing God’s call did not suddenly move Samuel from childhood to adulthood; following this encounter he still had to “grow up” (I Samuel 3:19). This text emphasizes God’s judgment on blatant sin in the family of Eli, Israel’s religious leader. It also portrays God’s careful preparation of Samuel for significant spiritual and political leadership as one who was open to hearing God’s voice and obeying. (Schultz, Out of Context: How to Avoid Misinterpreting the Bible, 86)

Samuel’s experience invites a discussion of calling. John Goldingay (b. 1942) projects:

Speaking with students often suggests to me that we think of ministry as something that enables us to find fulfillment, as it makes it possible for us to give expression to the gifts God has given us. Discernment thus begins as our seeking to perceive what our gifts are and how we may express them. There’s none of this way of thinking in the Old Testament or the New Testament. Samuel is not called because this will be the way he finds fulfillment...Given that the connotations of the word “call” have changed, we might do better to use the word “summons” rather than “call” to describe what happens to Samuel or Paul. Samuel gets the idea when he recognizes in the middle of the night that his boss has summoned him to do something, so he reports for duty; he just doesn’t realize which boss it is...There is nothing wrong with people using their gifts to serve God...It just has nothing to do with calling. (Goldingay, 1 & 2 Samuel for Everyone, 31)

As the message Samuel receives concerns Eli, many note that I Samuel 3:1-21 is not technically a call narrative. Anthony F. Campbell (b. 1934) advances:

The initiative is...given to Eli, and the focus of interest moves to his reaction. The story comes to rest with his acceptance...It is important to recognize that this is not a prophetic call narrative; there is no call. It may serve in place of a call narrative, since after this first experience of God’s word Samuel continues as a trustworthy prophet of the Lord. For all that, it is not a call narrative. (Campbell, 1 Samuel (The Forms of the Old Testament Literature), 57)

In contrast, Ronald F. Youngblood (b. 1931) offers:

The literary genre of I Samuel 3 has usually been considered a prophetic-call narrative in the grand tradition of Exodus 3 (Moses), Isaiah 6, Jeremiah 1, and the like. Recently, however, on the basis of ancient Near Eastern parallels, Robert Gnuse [b. 1947], in The Dream Theophany of Samuel: Its Structure in Relation to Ancient Near Eastern Dreams and Its Theological Significance has theorized that I Samuel 3 is best analyzed as an auditory message dream theophany. Although he sometimes tilts the evidence in his direction...his arguments are impressive...Of course, the genre could turn out to be a blend of both types (a not uncommon feature of Old Testament literature)—prophetic-call narrative plus auditory message dream theophany. But the advantage of Gnuse’s analysis is that it deals adequately with the fact that the Lord speaks to Samuel at night—a matter not handled convincingly by the theory that I Samuel 3 is a prophetic-call narrative and nothing more. (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] and David E. Garland [b. 1947], 1 Samuel-2 Kings (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary), 65)

Some argue that as Samuel is awake as the story unfolds, the story cannot accurately be labeled a dream theophany. What cannot be argued is that this story marks a new era for Samuel and Israel. Samuel becomes an agent of change in both the nation’s religion (as a prophet) and politics (as the anointer the kings). His authorization to do so is significant.

Robert Alter (b. 1935) remarks:

The idea of revelation...is paramount to the story of Samuel, whose authority will derive neither from cultic function, like the priests before him, nor from military power, like the judges before him and the kings after him, but from prophetic experience, from an immediate, morally directive call from God. (Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative, 109)

Walter Brueggemann (b. 1933) expounds:

The narrative takes great care to show that Samuel’s credibility does not rest on any conventional political confirmation. Rather, Samuel is presented as having an authorization rooted in nothing other than the freedom and promise of God. Samuel’s freshly authorized voice in Israel’s public life stands over against all conventional modes of power and brusquely displaces them. Surely the old Israelites—and the storytellers—are political realists. They understand how political-priestly power works, how it is secured, maintained, and exercised. They want to assert, at the same time, a holy governance that matters in concrete life, a holy governance that is not bounded by accustomed power, by ordained authority, by conventional leadership. There is a chance for newness. (Brueggemann, First and Second Samuel (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 27)

Samuel is authorized to lead, but more importantly Samuel becomes Samuel through the process. His purpose is completely changed as he finds his identity in connection to God.

Francesca Aran Murphy (b. 1960) analyzes:

In order to become a moral individual, a person, Samuel must be called out of the familial collective and enter a direct relationship to God. God does not, here, just call an individual to effect a change in Israel’s culture: he creates an individual so to do...Only when the Lord calls with a single voice and reveals his unity, and only when the recipients of this revelation absorb communication of “Who he is,” can they become unified individuals, persons who act on history and cocreate it. (Murphy, 1 Samuel (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), 29)

Merold Westphal (b. 1940) informs:

It takes little imagination to hear the resonances of Emmanuel Levinas [1906-1995]’s me voici, whose origins in any case are biblical, in Samuel’s “Here am I.” While this speech act is an expression of Samuel’s freedom, there is more heteronomy than autonomy in it. He does not originate the conversation but is called, called forth, even called into being by a voice not his own. The meaning of the situation in which he finds himself is not determined by his horizons of expectation, which are simultaneously surprised and shattered. Nor is it just his situation that is changed; his very identity is changed, as he becomes no longer merely Hannah’s son or Eli’s helper, but the one who stands coram deo, in God’s presence, by a call that is at once invitation and command. Everything begins with “you called me.” Prayer is the beginning of responsibility because it begins as response...He identifies himself as the servant before his Lord...Actually, when he responds in accord with Eli’s instruction, he does not name the speaker, but simply says, “Speak, for your servant is listening.”...The heavy lifting is done by Samuel’s self-identification as the servant of the speaker, whose divinity he now recognizes. He calls himself ebbe, a bond-servant. (Bruce Ellis Benson [b. 1960] and Norman Wirzba [b. 1964], “Prayer as the Posture of the Decentered Self”, The Phenomenology of Prayer (Perspectives in Continental Philosophy), 17)

Samuel’s awakening is intended to awaken us to our calling as well. Though we may not be called to be prophets or national leaders, our true identity is to be found as servants of God.

Who are today’s change agents? What have you been authorized to do? What has God called you to do? Have you found your identity in God?

“Not only do we not know God except through Jesus Christ, but also we do not know ourselves except through Jesus Christ.” - Blaise Pascal (1623-1662), Pensées, p. 7