Who’s Minding the Temple?
As I read through the opening chapters of 1 Samuel, I found myself drawn to the quieter storyline playing out alongside Samuel's calling. While the moment when Samuel hears God's voice is often the focal point, there's another thread involving Eli and his sons that raises a different kind of tension. It's not loud or dramatic. It unfolds slowly, in the space between what is seen and what is done.
Not With a Bang, But a Whimper
Eli is the high priest. His sons, Hophni and Phinehas, are also serving as priests. The text describes them as behaving in ways that conflict with their responsibilities—abusing the offerings and engaging in exploitative behavior. Eli hears about this. He confronts them, but only in words. There's no follow-through, no correction that changes the outcome. It's a quiet failure.
That dynamic got me thinking about how leadership can unravel gradually, not necessarily through direct harm, but through absence—when problems are seen but not addressed, when authority is present but not exercised. Eli doesn't come across as malicious. He seems passive, maybe tired, maybe unsure of what to do. But the consequences of inaction still land heavily.
When Warnings Come Calling
Later, a message comes to Eli: judgment is coming not just because of his sons' actions, but because he didn't intervene in a meaningful way. That part felt particularly layered. It introduces the idea that responsibility includes action, not just awareness. Being in a position of leadership doesn't just mean noticing when something's wrong—it means responding to it.
Meanwhile, in the Apprentice Wing...
At the same time, Samuel is beginning his own story. He doesn't recognize the voice calling to him at first. He needs help understanding what he's hearing. And when he finally receives a difficult message—one that directly concerns Eli—he hesitates, but he tells the truth. It's a moment where a younger figure begins to step into a role that an older one has left vacant.
Questions Without Easy Answers
There aren't clear answers here. The story presents the situation and its consequences, but it also leaves space to consider how leadership works and what it requires. It makes me wonder about all the quiet ways authority can be mishandled—not out of cruelty, but out of uncertainty or hesitation. What does accountability look like when we're tired? What does it mean to lead well in private moments, when no one else is watching?
These early chapters of 1 Samuel seem to hold a tension between two kinds of leadership: one that quietly fades, and one that's just beginning to form. And maybe part of the story is learning to pay attention to both.