A Failed Priest

Eli
Audio MP3

One who is slack in his work is brother to one who destroys.—Proverbs 18:9, NIV

 Albert O. Hudson{FOOTNOTE: Excerpted from the November/December, 1981 Bible Study Monthly, pp. 129-133.}

Weak, indolent, half-blind, almost senile, altogether unfit to administer the important duties of a high priest of Israel; such was Eli, occupant of the sacred office during the latter part of Israel’s stormiest time, the period of the Judges. Old Testament students know him chiefly as background to the stirring epic of the life of Samuel, the celebrated leader who rescued the nation from a practically continuous two centuries of apostasy and godlessness, restored it to the worship of the true God, and guided it into the more orderly and settled, although in the outcome just as disastrous, era of the monarchy.

Eli was about seventy-eight when the child Samuel was placed under his tutelage and ninety-eight when his slothfulness and heedlessness brought about the greatest calamity of Israel’s history, the capture of the Ark of the Covenant by the Philistines. Taken into battle as a kind of magic talisman to ensure victory, the warriors were stunned when God allowed the sacred emblem to pass into uncircumcised hands. That was the virtual end of the Tabernacle and its ritual. For many years afterwards, almost until the days of Solomon, there could be no annual Day of Atonement observance and the provisions of the Mosaic Covenant were perforce fallen into abeyance.

When the priesthood was established in the days of Moses, Aaron, brother of Moses, of the tribe of Levi, became the first high priest. The line of succession was ordained to pass through his oldest surviving son, Eleazar, who thus became the first high priest to officiate in the promised land. He was succeeded by his son, Phinehas. But Eli was not of the line of Eleazar; he traced his descent from Ithamar, youngest son of Aaron. Why and when the high priesthood passed from the senior to the junior line, sometime during the two centuries intervening between Phinehas and Eli, is not known, as the Scriptures are silent. It is not that the senior line died out, for the descendants of Phinehas are known, although none of them are recorded as having exercised the high priestly function until Zadok, in the time of David and Solomon. In him the duty passed again to the line of Eleazar.

The last mention of Phinehas is in Judges 20:28 at a time which could hardly have been more than fifty years after the entry into the land. When next we hear of a high priest, it is Eli of the line of Ithamar some two centuries later. Who exercised and in what fashion was exercised the duties of high priest in Israel, the principal of which was the annual ritual of the Day of Atonement sacrifices, during the meantime, is not known. None of Eli’s forebears are named, only that he was descended from Ithamar. He had been in office for at least twenty years before Samuel came to him, but of the details of his administration nothing is known.

The chronology of the period of the Judges is difficult to rationalize, but the consensus of research does seem to favor the conclusion that Eli could have attained his high priesthood at the normal age of thirty, not too far removed from the time of Gideon, the hero who decimated thousands of Midianites with only three hundred men.

One of the enigmas of Old Testament history is the story of Gideon, the God-fearing man of faith in the midst of an idolatrous people, who went out in the strength of God to overcome the enemies of Israel and to vindicate the name of God in the land, and after his famous victory took of the spoils of war to set up a shrine to the Lord in his native town of Ophrah, to rival the official Tabernacle at Shiloh at which the lawful high priest officiated. The riddle is even more inexplicable when it is remembered that in the same breath Gideon had refused the peoples’ request that he and his sons after him should reign as their king, saying, “I will not rule over you … the Lord shall rule over you” (Judges 8:23). It seems illogical to think that after such a victory, which he acknowledged to be of the Lord, and while uttering such sentiments of loyalty to the Lord, Gideon should at the same time be turning to idolatry.

Could Gideon’s action at Ophrah have some connection with the unknown disruption which unseated the lawful line of high priests and replaced them by the unlawful line at Shiloh, not very far away, at much the same time? Shiloh was situated in the territory of the tribe of Ephraim, the most turbulent and powerful of the tribes of Israel. Gideon was of Manasseh, and there was always rivalry between these tribes, stemming from the fact that Jacob had conferred the divine birthright on Ephraim the younger son of Joseph to the exclusion of Manasseh, the firstborn. But Ephraim in the time of the Judges was a violent and idolatrous tribe; the narratives of that book show how they were at war with their own brother-tribes as often as they were with outsiders. Was there, perhaps, at this time a “power struggle” within the family of Aaron, in which the Ephraimites ousted the legal line of Eleazar from officiating at Shiloh, and substituted the junior line by force and illegally in the person of Eli? The reputation of the tribe of Ephraim generally and the character of the inhabitants of its chief towns, Shechem, Bethel, Shiloh and so on, was such that almost any kind of roguery could take place.

Although Shiloh was the place where the Tabernacle stood for nearly four hundred years the Lord bitterly reproached the people there for their iniquity and predicted that his judgment would come upon it—as it did in the days of Samuel. “But go ye now unto my place which was in Shiloh,” he said to Jeremiah, “and see what I did to it for the wickedness of my people” (Jeremiah 7:12). It was in fact the iniquity of the people and priesthood there in Ephraim that caused the Lord to take away the birthright which in Jacob’s day had been given to Joseph and his son Ephraim, and to award it to Judah, so that Judah became the royal tribe. “He forsook the tabernacle of Shiloh, the tent which he placed among men … he chose not the tabernacle of Joseph, and rejected the tribe of Ephraim: but chose the tribe of Judah, the mount Zion which he loved … he chose David also his servant” (Psalm 78:60-70).

What great crime was this which took place in the very heart of God’s sanctuary; what depth of iniquity was there in the lives of those people and priests in Ephraim which drew forth such condemnation from the Most High? The behavior of Eli’s sons during the boyhood of Samuel (1 Samuel 2:22), of Abimelech and the men of Shechem (Judges 9), of Micah and his graven images in the very vicinity of Shiloh (Judges 17), are only three incidents which show just how far gone in the ways of evil were these professed men of God.

It might have been therefore that Shiloh had fallen into the hands of a faction which made Eli, or perhaps his father, high priest in defiance of the legal rights of the Eleazar line. The true high priest—whether Bukki, Uzzi, or Zerahiah, all recorded in 1 Chronicles 6 as the legal line from Eleazar, although not said to have been high priests (Josephus says Bukki and Uzzi were so in fact, in Ant. 5.11.5)—might have been compelled to flee into exile. In such case he would most likely cross the border into Manasseh; the enmity between that tribe and Ephraim would assure him of protection and the Manassites would certainly recognize him as the legal high priest. Did Gideon then, in the flush of victory, and in his enthusiasm for the abolition of Baal worship, dream of a restored high priest of the line of Eleazar, functioning not at Shiloh in Ephraim but at Ophrah in Manasseh, and is this why he made his ephod and built his shrine?

At all events “all Israel went thither a whoring after it; which thing became a snare to Gideon, and to his house” (Judges 8:27). That expression means that unlawful worship and ceremonial was carried on at Ophrah, and the fact that the deity worshipped was the Ever-Living and not Baal did nothing to mitigate the fact. The Scripture makes no mention of whatever ceremonies were conducted there and no names of its priests; the endeavor was in no manner recognized by God. The rightful line of Eleazar was eventually restored, but it was in the person of Zadok in the days of King Solomon, when the temple was built.

The most, therefore, that can be deduced about the life of Eli before he comes on to the Scripture stage is that he had probably been high priest for thirty or forty years before the birth of Samuel, and judge of the nation for twenty years. His earlier years might well have coincided with the judgeship of Samson. Neither man brought any peace to Israel, and the shadow of the Philistine menace hung over the land throughout both their careers.

The fact that Eli was accorded the position of Judge—perhaps at Samson’s death—suggests a stronger and more forceful personality than is suggested by the Scripture pictures, but by the time he figures in Scripture he was an old man and verging into senility. In his younger days he may well have been the kind of leader Israel looked for—as a Judge he must at least have led Israel’s forces against the enemy at times. If there was the kind of power struggle going on as has been above suggested, Eli at the center of it must have been a strong and vigorous character. We have then to think of a man mingling military prowess with religious zeal, ruthlessly trampling down his opponents, whether civil or ecclesiastical, and emerging as a leader whom both God-fearing and idolatrous Israelites were equally prepared to follow. But when we see him in the Book of Samuel, we see a weak and tired old man, bereft of his fire and passion, unable to control even his own sons, sitting on a seat outside the curtains of the Tabernacle entrance, left alone to his thoughts, and Israel, leaderless, knowing not whether she was worshiping Jehovah or Baal.

Hannah, Elkanah, and Samuel

It is at this point the story of Eli, so far as the Bible is concerned, really begins. Hannah, the pious wife of a godly Levite, had accompanied her husband on his annual pilgrimage to the Tabernacle at Shiloh—probably on the occasion of the Feast of Pentecost. There is this evidence that the Levitical ritual was still being observed, but from 1 Samuel 2:12-17 it is evident that there were grave abuses being committed by the renegade priests, the sons of Eli. Elkanah the Levite was probably only one of many who deplored these things, but earnestly hoped that one day God would send a reformer to put matters right. He little thought that his own son was to be that reformer, to transform Israel into a free and worshiping people. At this moment Hannah was pouring out her heart to the Lord in prayer for just such a son, and Eli, perceiving her, concluded that she was intoxicated and reproved her.

A high priest devoted to his calling and thoroughly familiar with the sorrows and tribulations of his people would not have mistaken the outward signs of inward emotion and supplication for those of drunkenness; by this initial reaction this man showed himself insensitive to the essence of his commission. Said the writer to the Hebrews, “We have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities” (Hebrews 4:15), but Eli was not that kind of a high priest. Upon being apprised of his mistake he merely replied, more or less indifferently, “Go in peace: and the God of Israel grant thee thy petition that thou hast asked of him” (1 Samuel 1:17), without even asking what it was.

Eventually Hannah appeared before the high priest again, this time with her small son, the fruit of her prayer. Nothing had changed; she had to explain to Eli who she was and remind him of their former meeting. Now, in fulfillment of her vow, she had brought her son to be dedicated to the service of the Lord in the sanctuary. As the son of a Levite, and therefore a Levite himself, he had the right to serve in the sacred things and henceforth he would be under the tutelage of Eli and grow up to engage in the service of the Tabernacle. Eli seemed to accept the arrangement without comment; he had now gotten a young personal assistant who would become increasingly useful as he grew up, and with that he was content. So Samuel remained with Eli.

Even though the loyalty of Israel to the God whose center was at Shiloh began to wane and be transferred to the idol gods of Canaan, Hannah had no misgivings, if the sentiments of her song of triumph (1 Samuel 2:1-10) are noted. She was quite sure that the hand of the Lord was in this thing and that he was about to do great things for his people. “He will keep the feet of his saints and the wicked shall be silent in darkness,” she sang. Surely she was thinking of her little Samuel when she uttered these words. She left her son with Eli and returned home in full confidence that he was under divine protection and would come to no harm.

So Eli remained sitting on his seat in the sun “by a post of the temple of the Lord” (1 Samuel 1:9) until, one day, a stranger approached him, a prophet of the Lord. That seat by a post of the temple, where at the first Hannah had talked with him, yields a sidelight upon the corruption that had enveloped the Tabernacle, for that post was one of those which guarded the entrance to the Holy apartment of the Tabernacle, so that the seat was inside the Court wherein, according to the commandment, only Levites and priests might enter. Apparently anyone of Israel could enter in the days of Eli. Now he found himself confronted by this prophet who solemnly recited to him how God at the first had promised Aaron his ancestor that his sons would be priests contingent upon their loyalty and faithfulness. And now God demanded to know why Eli had forsworn that covenant and despised his sacred office, sharing in the illicit gains of his priestly sons and honoring them more than he honored God.

So the stranger pronounced the divine sentence: his succession would be cut off and the priestly line of Ithamar descending through him would come to an end and be replaced by a faithful priest who would do according to the divine will. The sentence was one of excommunication. Had Eli taken serious heed and repented and amended his ways perhaps the outcome would have been different, for it is never too late for repentance. With our God the fifty-ninth minute of the eleventh hour still leaves time for deliverance and the lifting of judgment, if sincere repentance is there. But half a dozen years or so later, when the young boy Samuel heard the voice of the Lord in the sanctuary, the position was unchanged. The sons of Eli were still pursuing their evil ways and he himself was still indifferent, and so judgment became certain.

The occasion when the boy Samuel heard the Lord’s voice and was used to convey the final decision to Eli is probably the best known incident in the lives of Eli and of Samuel. The lad would have been about twelve years of age and Eli about eighty-five. It was at night when both were asleep, and “ere the lamp of God went out in the temple of the Lord” (1 Samuel 3:3). Now, in the darkness, the Lord spoke to the lad and imparted to him the shattering realization that his teacher and guide had failed in his duty and was to be deposed and rejected. Samuel was still too young to understand much of the corruption and iniquity that was going on around him and probably looked upon the older man with respect and affection. Now he had to convey to him the news of his coming rejection and the extinction of his house.

Eli insisted on being told everything. Whether there was any last-minute realization of his failure does not appear. He did not dispute the sentence; he did not attempt to defend himself. He merely said, “It is the Lord: let him do what seemeth him good” (1 Samuel 3:18). There was no endeavor to bestir himself, to try to make some amends even at this late hour. He just accepted the position passively.

From this time forward Samuel came increasingly into the public eye. By the time he was twenty “all Israel from Dan even to Beer-sheba knew that Samuel was established to be a prophet of the Lord. And the Lord appeared again in Shiloh” (1 Samuel 3:20,21). For something like three centuries, from the time of Othniel and Phinehas, there had not been a ruler whole-heartedly solid to the end of life for God and his laws. Now all of Israel were being taught the right way as they had never been taught before, and with every advance made by this new enthusiast for righteousness, the old days of idolatry and godlessness began to slip away into the background.

Eli’s Service Ends

But Israel was not yet converted. A few more years, and Israel found itself embroiled with the Philistines again. Battle was joined at Aphek, thirty miles from Shiloh. The first engagement was disastrous for the Israelites; they lost four thousand men. The situation was ominous; the elders of Israel made a dramatic decision. They resolved to send to Shiloh and take the Ark of the Covenant out of its place in the Most Holy of the Tabernacle and bear it before them as they advanced to battle. They reasoned that God would not allow the sacred emblem to fall into the hands of their enemies, and so under its protection and by means of its magic power, they would defeat the Philistines.

Such sacrilege had never before been known in Israel. The Ark of the Covenant, symbol of the abiding presence of God, was not allowed even to be seen, much less handled, by anyone except the high priest. When on journeys from one place to another, during the forty years’ wanderings in the wilderness, it was carefully shrouded in blue coverings to conceal it from sight. Any high priest who permitted such removal thereby manifested his total unfitness for office. Yet Eli concurred and his two renegade sons accompanied the Ark to the scene of the battle.

The effect was the opposite of that intended: “Woe unto us!” cried the Philistines when they found out what was happening, “Who shall deliver us out of the hand of these mighty Gods? These are the Gods that smote the Egyptians with all the plagues in the wilderness. Be strong, and quit yourselves like men, O ye Philistines.” (1 Samuel 4:8,9) With the plagues in Egypt four centuries in the past, it is remarkable that the terror of them was still remembered by the Philistines. They fought with renewed desperation because of the very presence of the Ark, and the result was that thirty thousand Israelites were slain, including the two sons of Eli—and the Ark of God was captured.

Late that same day a runner appeared in Shiloh, clothes disheveled, hot and dusty, bearing the news of the disaster. Eli was sitting upon his seat, anxiously awaiting assurance of the Ark’s safe return. He knew he had done wrong, that he had perpetrated the greatest of all outrages against the divine sanctuary. All he wanted now was to know that the Ark was safely back in its place and then he could sink again into his normal state of apathy. “What is there done, my son?” he asked. “Israel is fled before the Philistines,” came the reply, “and there hath been also a great slaughter among the people.” Eli took that with equanimity. “And thy two sons also, Hophni and Phinehas, are dead.” That also passed without visible reaction. “And the ark of God is taken.” At those fateful words, as the chronicler has it, “When he made mention of the ark of God,” Eli collapsed, rolled off his seat on to the ground, broke his neck, and died. The shock of the realization, at last, that he had betrayed God killed him. (1 Samuel 4:17,18)

The Philistines would be hard on the heels of the runner, and Shiloh was completely destroyed. It never rose again. Shiloh had been the national center of worship and place of meeting with God for four hundred years; it came to its end through the indolence and faithlessness of its last high priest, and of a people who took the name of God upon their lips but were far from him in their hearts. (Isaiah 29:13)

Lessons For Us

For the Christian, the lesson of Eli’s life is the futility of backing away from evil, of ignoring it and pretending that it does not exist. Evil will not go away of itself; it is always there, seeking to make inroads and extend its power. Evil has to be actively resisted. “Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil,” wrote Paul. “Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth … and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” (Ephesians 6:11, 14,17).

It is a biting commentary on the indecision of Eli and the faithlessness of his people on that historic occasion that the very expression used by their Philistine enemies, when confronted by what they thought was a well-nigh irresistible opponent, “Be strong, and quit yourselves like men, O ye Philistines” (1 Samuel 4:9), became Paul’s inspiration for his famous injunction to all Christians: “Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong” (1 Corinthians 16:13). The older man, with all his years of experience and authority, all his admitted power and influence as ruler of Israel in both the religious and the political spheres, had allowed himself to be overcome by the idolatry and irreligiousness of his environment. The young lad, having nothing but faith and zeal, challenged those same evil forces and put them to flight. Samuel found Israel an anarchistic and idolatrous rabble, a miserable caricature of the host which entered Canaan under Joshua. He left it an orderly and law-abiding nation, conducting its national life in harmony with the Mosaic Covenant and in the true worship of God. In aftertimes Israel classed Samuel with Moses; of Eli nothing was said.

We stand today on the plains of Moab. Only the flood of Jordan now separates us from Immanuel’s land. The earnest expectation and hope of saints throughout the age has been heavenly, yet inseparably linked with the future of this earth and all who dwell upon it. Now the hour has come. The land stretches before us, and the Lord’s people stand poised for the great task ahead. Soon will we realize how well past and present victories prepare the tool in the hand of the Lord for his future work, the realization of the great climax of the Creator’s purpose for this planet.

The prospect is transporting and fuels the flame of consuming zeal for our Father’s business. It is a time for looking forward and also for sober reflection, lest we have missed some important lesson of the way to make us meet for the Master’s use.