Original Meaning

The Ark of the Covenant in Philistia (5:1–12)

YAHWEH WILL NOT permit the Israelites to use the ark of the covenant as though it were a magical wand. But neither can he permit the Philistines to demean him as a trophy of their victory. This episode illustrates that Yahweh himself is responsible for Israel’s defeat and that, contrary to appearances, he is not powerless in the hands of Israel’s enemies.

Ashdod was apparently the chief city of the Philistine pentapolis and was located just a few miles from the coast and thirty miles southwest of Ebenezer.1 Gath and Ekron were further inland. Dagon was the principal deity of the Philistines, though he is widely known elsewhere in ancient Near Eastern religion. His cult is attested from the Early Bronze Age throughout the Iron Age down to Hellenistic times. We know little about his nature or character, including the etymological significance of his name. At Ugarit, he is at times identified as the father of the storm god Baal Haddu.2

Scholars believe the Philistines arrived in Palestine near the beginning of the Iron Age, probably around 1200 B.C. They appear to have adapted to Canaanite culture nicely, and the acquisition of Yahweh’s ark would have been typical of ancient Near Eastern religious syncretism. They must have thought it odd that Israel did not possess an actual idol of its God. But they, like other groups who encountered Israel, would have accepted the ark of the covenant as a physical surrogate for the Israelite deity. Placing the ark “beside Dagon” (5:2) would confirm that Israel’s deity was now supporting their efforts to establish hegemony not only along the coastal plains but also in the highlands, where the Israelites had settled. The Philistines could only have been encouraged by this development.

But on the first morning after placing the ark next to Dagon, the Philistines find Dagon in a position of subservience and worship, prostrate before Yahweh’s ark (5:3). On the following morning, Dagon has lost his head and hands (5:4). Decapitation and cutting off hands was not infrequent in ancient warfare (17:51, 54; 31:9). In fact, such practices were intended to produce trophies for the victorious (see 31:8–10; for a means of determining correct body count, see 18:25, 27).3 In a graphic text from the Ugaritic Baal Cycle, Anat, the goddess of love and war, fought against her enemies, with heads hanging on her back and palms on her belt (CTU 1.3 ii 5–16).4 Thus, the condition of Dagon’s torso on the second morning is a sign of military defeat.

The imagery presented here is that of a divine contest in which at first Yahweh merely humiliates the Philistine god. But the second victory (like the second Philistine defeat of the Israelites in ch. 4) is more devastating. By leaving only Dagon’s torso, Yahweh proves that the previous night’s work is not coincidental. Israel’s God is victorious over the Philistines’ conquering divine hero, who has supposedly brought military success against Israel. This time, however, Yahweh defeats Dagon in his own temple!

The added detail that the executed Dagon’s extremities are found “lying on the threshold” is interesting (5:4). The narrator inserts the historical note in verse 5 to explain why “to this day” priests of Dagon step over the threshold of the temple of Dagon in Ashdod. The superstitious custom of jumping over the threshold of a sacred place was known in ancient Palestine, even practiced by idolatrous priests in Jerusalem (Zeph. 1:4, 9).

This insertion in verse 5 is an example of what is frequently called an “etiology,” that is, a narrative that gives the past reason for a present reality. Often such etiologies use the expression “to this day” (as we have it in v. 5). Though most scholars assume etiological texts are by definition unhistorical (and usually label them “legends” or “folklore”), this assumption is patently unnecessary. The term “etiology” is purely descriptive.5 Such etiological narratives are known from around the world, and many can be verified as expressing genuine historical events. The narrator here is simply drawing inferences from the events described for his own day. Dagon’s humiliation and defeat before Yahweh cast a long shadow across Philistine history.

There is one final irony in the loss of Dagon’s hands, which in Hebrew can connote a loss of power. The mention of this detail in 5:4 introduces a motif in the narrative that is quickly picked up again in 5:6: “The LORD’s hand was heavy upon the people of Ashdod.” Counting the mention of Yahweh’s hand against Egypt in the form of the plagues (4:8), the expression or similar expressions occurs eight times in these chapters (5:6, 7, 9, 11; 6:3, 5, 9).6 In such expressions in the ancient Near East, plagues were often described as the maleficent effects of the “hand” of a god. Thus in the Philistine mind, there is no doubt that the plague of tumors is due to the hand of Yahweh. This is especially evident by the way in which the plague seems to move with the ark to each city, first Ashdod, then Gath and Ekron.7 All the while, the handless (i.e., powerless) Dagon can do nothing about it.

In sum, the Philistines have now learned the hard lesson, which the Israelites themselves learned in chapter 4. No one can manipulate or control Yahweh simply by obtaining possession of the ark of the covenant. He is sovereign and free, and though he is enthroned between the cherubim atop the sacred sarcophagus, the sum of his personhood can never be reduced to it alone. He is not chained to his throne. Yahweh is simply bigger than the Israelite or Philistine theological configuration of him. They have both grossly underestimated his power and holiness.

The Philistines Send the Ark of the Covenant Back (6:1–12)

Bridging Contexts

YAHWEH AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN RELIGION. At the beginning of the ark narrative, Israel attempted to manipulate Yahweh. The result was disastrous. Israel had lost the cult center at Shiloh, the Elide priesthood, and the ark of the covenant. Furthermore, Israel was without theological explanation. How were the Israelites to understand their military defeat and, more importantly, the loss of the ark to the Philistines? And what about the Philistines? How were they to understand their victory and capture of the ark? This unit presents a fascinating portrait of the Philistines and their religious conceptions, by which they try to explain their capture of the ark and the subsequent disaster.

The Philistines were not unlike other nations of the ancient Near East, for whom polytheism was a fundamental assumption that lay at the heart of their worldview. Though some people only served one god or a few gods officially, they nonetheless recognized the existence of dozens, even hundreds of deities, as many as there were natural and social forces in the world.16 These deities were coterminous, or by nature immanent, in the world. They were correspondent to, or continuous with, all other things that existed. Socially, the deities were much like humans. As opposed to Genesis theology, in which God created humans in his image, ancient theology accepted gods in human image. They had births, deaths, families, and physical needs.

In addition, the ancients believed the deities were susceptible to the forces of magic. Most nations of the ancient world practiced a wide variety of magical arts, including formulaic recitations and imitative acts, which they thought could manipulate and exploit the powers of the divine and natural realms. Such beliefs were probably behind the statement in 5:5 that Philistines entering the temple of Dagon at Ashdod refused to step on the threshold. Sympathetic or imitative magic is certainly also behind the use of five gold tumors and five gold rats to represent the five Philistine cities.

This explains the power of the symbolic acts described in 1 Samuel 5. Idolatry was central to the ancient worldview, since the idol was an actual extension of the deity’s essence. Placing Yahweh’s ark beside Dagon’s idol was symbolic of Dagon’s victory. But the loss of Dagon’s hands and head turned the tables. And wherever the ark of Yahweh traveled in Philistia, it worked its power, teaching the ancient Philistines through their own idolatrous worldview that Yahweh was all-powerful, even in their own backyard.

When the Philistines encountered God in such a way, they went to their priests and diviners, the latter being specialists in “reading” the divine realm through various practices.17 This was their way of trying to placate the deity. They were limited in their understanding of God because their minds were darkened. They “exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like mortal man and birds and animals and reptiles” (Rom. 1:23). At least we can say the Philistine priests and diviners had come to honor Yahweh, and they learned from the stories they had heard about the hardhearted Egyptians (1 Sam. 6:5–6). Though their use of golden images (idols!) as offerings to Yahweh was not adequate, they appear to have learned that Israel’s God, unlike their own deities, could not be so easily manipulated.

The tragic events at Beth Shemesh reveal ironically that Israel had not learned the same lesson. Israel’s covenant relationship with Yahweh was so radically different that the nation’s worldview was also supposed to be unique. The Israelites believed that Yahweh is alone in the realm of deity and singularly responsible for all other natural and social forces of the universe. Therefore he is not coterminous or immanent in the world. Rather, he is transcendent and unlike humans, having no beginning or end, no family relationships, and no physical needs. Furthermore, magic and all magical practices were forbidden for Israel (Ex. 22:18; Lev. 19:26, 31; 20:6, 27; Deut. 18:10–11).

But who are the real idolaters here? Israel had been equally guilty of attempting to manipulate Yahweh. The use of the ark of the covenant to guarantee military victory came perilously close to imitative magic, or at least pagan religious warfare. And now the losses at Beth Shemesh reveal a propensity to disregard him, failing to glorify him and give thanks to him (Rom. 1:21). Israel had been given the riches of divine self-disclosure. God had revealed his nature to ancient Israel, and this was to make her unique in the ancient world.

But her actions were not matching his grace! She had not learned to allow the truths of his self-revelation to penetrate her own worldview and transform her character. Israel had failed to learn what the Philistines were discovering without the benefit of unique divine revelation: God cannot be manipulated! His ark cannot be used as an idol! We expect the Philistines to try to control him. But sadly, the Israelites have exerted their energy trying to twist God into their image as well. One need not be a Philistine to act idolatrously.

The irony is that the Philistines understand the significance of Israel’s unique theology better than the Israelites. This is apparent in the many allusions to the Exodus narrative observed by the Philistines themselves. They understand that their choices, when confronted with Yahweh’s awesome power, are either honoring him or hardening their own hearts, as Pharaoh before them had done (1 Sam. 6:5–6). This reference is the counterpart of 4:7–8 earlier in the ark narrative, when the Philistines first recognize that their situation is not unlike Pharaoh’s.

Together these references link the entire ark narrative to the Exodus memory.18 The gold offerings going with Yahweh from Philistia are reminiscent of Israel’s departure from Egypt with gold and silver (Ex. 11:2). The unit’s emphasis on the “hand of the LORD” may reflect the Exodus narrative’s use of the “arm” and “hand” of God.19 The Philistines decide to release Yahweh, just as Pharaoh was required to “let my people go.” Unlike Pharaoh, however, the Philistines decide to honor Yahweh rather than to harden their hearts.

In a sense, the ox-drawn procession of Yahweh along the road to Beth Shemesh is another Exodus. In the Exodus proper, Yahweh came out of Egypt along with his people. But in this episode, Yahweh departs Philistia alone, without his people Israel. In the first Exodus, Yahweh’s people were liberated from their slavery and bondage. Here, Yahweh has liberated himself so that his people may finally be liberated from their inadequate understanding of his great character.

How wonderful that God chooses to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat! After the loss of the ark in chapter 4, these chapters narrate God’s own actions to overturn the defeat. This narrative functions in 1 Samuel as a wonderful reason for hope, since God in his grace initiated his own exaltation and return to Israel’s people. There is a certain freshness about Yahweh. He does things new and unexpected that catch his people by surprise. Furthermore, he alone initiates such new acts of deliverance. No one else can force his timing. In 1 Samuel 1–3, he has initiated the arrival of a new prophet and judge, who will lead Israel into the future, a future she can hardly begin to anticipate. In the ark narrative, he has turned Israel’s pitiable failure into an opportunity for further self-disclosure of his surpassing nature. He has again initiated deliverance in a hopeless situation.

Contemporary Significance

Contemporary Significance

VIEWING GOD AND HIS WORK IN THE WORLD. Like Israel of old, the Christian church has been blessed with a unique view of reality. God’s self-disclosure has placed truth in the hands of believers, which makes the church a counterculture in the world. The two worldviews represented in this text, Israelite and Philistine, reflect the basic options still available today. In order to draw out the significance of this text for contemporary society and culture, we will need to consider the way today’s readers view God’s work in the world.

George Hunter, my colleague at Asbury, told recently of a conversation he had with two executives he met while waiting to board their planes in the Cincinnati airport.20 His simple question generated rich conversation: “Do you believe in God?” The first businessman appealed to the complexity and intricacy of the cosmos as evidence that God exists. It drove him to conclude: “I believe there is a God behind it all.” The second was somewhat less sanguine, pointing out the sheer size of the universe, which makes humankind look so insignificant.

Our planet is one of nine in our solar system. Our sun is one of a hundred million stars in our galaxy. Our Milky Way galaxy is one of a hundred million galaxies in the known universe. Granting what we know today about the vastness of space, it’s a stretch to believe that we could matter to the God behind all this.

Professor Hunter uses the assessment of these two executives to critique the understanding of God that has prevailed for generations in most societies of the Western world, namely, deism. Since the Enlightenment, British deism taught that the universe was a closed system, functioning like a well-timed machine with no need for God. Deism allowed for the existence of One Supreme Being, who started it all but whose function in creation was reduced to that of First Cause only. God is now like a “Cosmic Watchmaker,” who after having designed and created it all, has now left it to run on its own.21 He is distant and uninvolved, transcendent but not immanent. Enlightenment thinkers believed that what the world needed was more education and freedom to liberate people and allow humankind to evolve into the civilized and advanced culture that we could become.

With the collapse of the Enlightenment project and the arrival of a postmodern reaction, people are abandoning the idealistic thought that humans are advanced enough, intelligent enough, or even civilized enough to produce a more desirable world. Modernism has not brought the promises of the Enlightenment to fruition. People today are routinely reconsidering the assumption that the universe is a closed system. On the contrary, many educated people today reach for the great Beyond in a multitude of ways, as those listed by Professor Hunter: karma, curses, ghosts, angels, evil spirits, telepathy, astrological powers, out-of-body experiences, and mystery in many forms.

Recently in my local newspaper, I read of the growing phenomenon of “Sufism,” the seventh-century mystical Islamic devotion emphasizing a relationship with God expressed through poetry, whirling movement, and meditation. In March 2001, the eighth Sufism Symposium was being held in California’s Bay Area, where approximately three to four thousand Sufis live. Organizers of the symposium claimed Sufism is growing because of “a great longing within people’s souls to find more spirituality.”22

At the very time when many postmoderns are seeking God in these illegitimate ways, God seems evermore distant. Deism still clings, for God seems for many to be as far away as ever. As Hunter observes, for most in the West, it still requires a “stretch” to believe we matter to God. But biblical revelation breaks into this worldview and shatters it. Biblical truth offers an alternate view of reality that makes the others impossible. God, the transcendent Creator of the universe, is also immanent and thus immanently involved in the world.

The Bible’s witness is remarkably consistent on this point. God broke into Abram’s world and committed himself to Abram as friend and protector. Similarly, God broke into ancient Israel’s world and met them on Mount Sinai in order to bind himself to them in covenant love. In this text he crashed into the Philistine world in order to teach them that their various ways of explaining and understanding divine presence are all wrong. And Israel also learns in this text that the immanent God cannot be ignored, manipulated, or mishandled. He cares for them too much to allow them to misunderstand his nature.

As Professor Hunter explains, the rest of biblical revelation is unmistakable at this point. Of everything else the Bible teaches, this much is clear: We matter to God! The rest stands or falls on this remarkable claim—revolutionary for its time as well as for our day. Indeed, God is intimately involved in the clothing of the lilies and concerned with wounded sparrows (Matt. 6:26–30; 10:29; Luke 12:6, 24–28). In fact, God cares about everything in this world: birds, plants, animals, everything—but especially people. He numbers the hairs on our heads, which illustrates the depth and breadth of his knowledge and concern for us (Matt. 10:30; Luke 12:7).23

The message of this text is greatly needed in today’s world. It illustrates that the Philistine worldview—which is so similar in many ways to today’s postmodern New Age perspective—is inadequate. God is not coterminous with the forces of nature, nor is he created in our image. He is not susceptible to the forces of magic or idolatry. He cannot be manipulated or pressed into service whenever we feel threatened or at risk. The God of Israel is in fact immanent and in control; he is victorious over all the forces of our world, just as he was victorious over the Philistine god Dagon.

But the Philistine worldview was not the only one corrected in this text. The Israelites also had to reconsider the way they viewed God. Their monotheism must be complete and thorough. It marked Israel as unique in the world and made Israel’s voice a counterculture in the ancient Near East. Even when Israel failed to live up to the grace Yahweh had given, even when Israel seemed no more enlightened than the Philistines and attempted to manipulate and control God, God brought victory from the jaws of defeat.

Thus, this text speaks to both the world and the church today. It offers to the world a glimpse into this alternate reality, a reality in which God does care. He cares enough to break into the world and offer himself to the Philistines of our day as a full and beautiful revelation of his nature. He cares enough to become vulnerable, even to be captured by the enemy and to be treated as a trophy. But in the end, God will be victorious.

But this text also offers the church a glimpse into this alternate view of reality, which has theoretically marked believers off as unique in the world. This glimpse reminds us that God has cared enough for us to break into our world too, to become vulnerable to our sinful idolatry, even to allow himself to be exploited by the very ones who call on his name. We must, therefore, become thoroughly monotheistic; we must eschew all forms of idolatry; and we must learn again that because he cares for us, we must celebrate his freedom to move in our lives as he chooses.

Original Meaning

The Ark of the Covenant at Beth Shemesh and Kiriath Jearim (6:13–7:1)

THE ARK OF God must be paid its due respect, whether by the Philistines or the Israelites. The Israelites are at first overjoyed to see the ark of Yahweh returned to their borders (6:13). The people of Beth Shemesh join in worshipful thanksgiving by sacrificing the cows to Yahweh before the ark, attended by the Levites. But it is a short-lived victory. The loss of seventy citizens of that city may have been the result of disease passed from Philistine contacts. But in the minds of the Israelites, it is because they have not properly cared for the sacred symbol of Yahweh’s covenant (6:19): “because they had looked into the ark of the LORD.” The ark was not to be opened, or even touched, out of respect for Yahweh (2 Sam. 6:6–7). “It was important that the Israelites see the recovery of the ark not as a transfer of control from Philistia back to Israel but as it was—an expression of God’s sovereignty over both Philistia and Israel.”12

The pitiable question of the citizens of Beth Shemesh acknowledges the loss of Shiloh as the proper cult center for the fledgling nation (6:20): “To whom will the ark go up from here?”13 The driving question is: Where should the ark be housed now that we have lost Shiloh and now that Eli’s family is dead? Beth Shemesh fails to care for the ark properly and so is struck by a plague not unlike that suffered by the Philistines. Now its citizens look to pass the responsibility onto others. The people of Kiriath Jearim accept the task, consecrating Eleazar the son of Abinadab to guard (lit., “keep”) the ark.

Kiriath Jearim is approximately fifteen miles east-northeast of Beth Shemesh in the Israelite heartland. It has a second name, Baalah, which may indicate it had previously been a Canaanite high place and therefore associated with worship, as Shiloh had been.14 The geographical progression from Philistia to Beth Shemesh, and then to Kiriath Jearim, is part of a larger story told in the books of Samuel. Twenty years later, the ark is taken from Kiriath Jearim by Yahweh’s specially anointed servant David and placed in Yahweh’s chosen location, Jerusalem (2 Sam. 6:17). The exile of the ark and its eventual migration to Jerusalem reflects God’s choice of Jerusalem, which is ultimately behind David’s selection of that city as the new capital of unified Israel.15 These events form the inspiration for the psalmist’s mediations in Psalm 78:60–62, 65–69:

He abandoned the tabernacle of Shiloh,

the tent he had set up among men.

He sent the ark of his might into captivity,

his splendor into the hands of the enemy.

He gave his people over to the sword;

he was very angry with his inheritance….

Then the Lord awoke as from sleep,

as a man wakes from the stupor of wine.

He beat back his enemies;

he put them to everlasting shame.

Then he rejected the tents of Joseph,

he did not choose the tribe of Ephraim;

but he chose the tribe of Judah,

Mount Zion, which he loved.

He built his sanctuary like the heights,

like the earth that he established forever.

Bridging Contexts

Bridging Contexts

YAHWEH AND ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN RELIGION. At the beginning of the ark narrative, Israel attempted to manipulate Yahweh. The result was disastrous. Israel had lost the cult center at Shiloh, the Elide priesthood, and the ark of the covenant. Furthermore, Israel was without theological explanation. How were the Israelites to understand their military defeat and, more importantly, the loss of the ark to the Philistines? And what about the Philistines? How were they to understand their victory and capture of the ark? This unit presents a fascinating portrait of the Philistines and their religious conceptions, by which they try to explain their capture of the ark and the subsequent disaster.

The Philistines were not unlike other nations of the ancient Near East, for whom polytheism was a fundamental assumption that lay at the heart of their worldview. Though some people only served one god or a few gods officially, they nonetheless recognized the existence of dozens, even hundreds of deities, as many as there were natural and social forces in the world.16 These deities were coterminous, or by nature immanent, in the world. They were correspondent to, or continuous with, all other things that existed. Socially, the deities were much like humans. As opposed to Genesis theology, in which God created humans in his image, ancient theology accepted gods in human image. They had births, deaths, families, and physical needs.

In addition, the ancients believed the deities were susceptible to the forces of magic. Most nations of the ancient world practiced a wide variety of magical arts, including formulaic recitations and imitative acts, which they thought could manipulate and exploit the powers of the divine and natural realms. Such beliefs were probably behind the statement in 5:5 that Philistines entering the temple of Dagon at Ashdod refused to step on the threshold. Sympathetic or imitative magic is certainly also behind the use of five gold tumors and five gold rats to represent the five Philistine cities.

This explains the power of the symbolic acts described in 1 Samuel 5. Idolatry was central to the ancient worldview, since the idol was an actual extension of the deity’s essence. Placing Yahweh’s ark beside Dagon’s idol was symbolic of Dagon’s victory. But the loss of Dagon’s hands and head turned the tables. And wherever the ark of Yahweh traveled in Philistia, it worked its power, teaching the ancient Philistines through their own idolatrous worldview that Yahweh was all-powerful, even in their own backyard.

When the Philistines encountered God in such a way, they went to their priests and diviners, the latter being specialists in “reading” the divine realm through various practices.17 This was their way of trying to placate the deity. They were limited in their understanding of God because their minds were darkened. They “exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like mortal man and birds and animals and reptiles” (Rom. 1:23). At least we can say the Philistine priests and diviners had come to honor Yahweh, and they learned from the stories they had heard about the hardhearted Egyptians (1 Sam. 6:5–6). Though their use of golden images (idols!) as offerings to Yahweh was not adequate, they appear to have learned that Israel’s God, unlike their own deities, could not be so easily manipulated.

The tragic events at Beth Shemesh reveal ironically that Israel had not learned the same lesson. Israel’s covenant relationship with Yahweh was so radically different that the nation’s worldview was also supposed to be unique. The Israelites believed that Yahweh is alone in the realm of deity and singularly responsible for all other natural and social forces of the universe. Therefore he is not coterminous or immanent in the world. Rather, he is transcendent and unlike humans, having no beginning or end, no family relationships, and no physical needs. Furthermore, magic and all magical practices were forbidden for Israel (Ex. 22:18; Lev. 19:26, 31; 20:6, 27; Deut. 18:10–11).

But who are the real idolaters here? Israel had been equally guilty of attempting to manipulate Yahweh. The use of the ark of the covenant to guarantee military victory came perilously close to imitative magic, or at least pagan religious warfare. And now the losses at Beth Shemesh reveal a propensity to disregard him, failing to glorify him and give thanks to him (Rom. 1:21). Israel had been given the riches of divine self-disclosure. God had revealed his nature to ancient Israel, and this was to make her unique in the ancient world.

But her actions were not matching his grace! She had not learned to allow the truths of his self-revelation to penetrate her own worldview and transform her character. Israel had failed to learn what the Philistines were discovering without the benefit of unique divine revelation: God cannot be manipulated! His ark cannot be used as an idol! We expect the Philistines to try to control him. But sadly, the Israelites have exerted their energy trying to twist God into their image as well. One need not be a Philistine to act idolatrously.

The irony is that the Philistines understand the significance of Israel’s unique theology better than the Israelites. This is apparent in the many allusions to the Exodus narrative observed by the Philistines themselves. They understand that their choices, when confronted with Yahweh’s awesome power, are either honoring him or hardening their own hearts, as Pharaoh before them had done (1 Sam. 6:5–6). This reference is the counterpart of 4:7–8 earlier in the ark narrative, when the Philistines first recognize that their situation is not unlike Pharaoh’s.

Together these references link the entire ark narrative to the Exodus memory.18 The gold offerings going with Yahweh from Philistia are reminiscent of Israel’s departure from Egypt with gold and silver (Ex. 11:2). The unit’s emphasis on the “hand of the LORD” may reflect the Exodus narrative’s use of the “arm” and “hand” of God.19 The Philistines decide to release Yahweh, just as Pharaoh was required to “let my people go.” Unlike Pharaoh, however, the Philistines decide to honor Yahweh rather than to harden their hearts.

In a sense, the ox-drawn procession of Yahweh along the road to Beth Shemesh is another Exodus. In the Exodus proper, Yahweh came out of Egypt along with his people. But in this episode, Yahweh departs Philistia alone, without his people Israel. In the first Exodus, Yahweh’s people were liberated from their slavery and bondage. Here, Yahweh has liberated himself so that his people may finally be liberated from their inadequate understanding of his great character.

How wonderful that God chooses to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat! After the loss of the ark in chapter 4, these chapters narrate God’s own actions to overturn the defeat. This narrative functions in 1 Samuel as a wonderful reason for hope, since God in his grace initiated his own exaltation and return to Israel’s people. There is a certain freshness about Yahweh. He does things new and unexpected that catch his people by surprise. Furthermore, he alone initiates such new acts of deliverance. No one else can force his timing. In 1 Samuel 1–3, he has initiated the arrival of a new prophet and judge, who will lead Israel into the future, a future she can hardly begin to anticipate. In the ark narrative, he has turned Israel’s pitiable failure into an opportunity for further self-disclosure of his surpassing nature. He has again initiated deliverance in a hopeless situation.

Contemporary Significance

Contemporary Significance

VIEWING GOD AND HIS WORK IN THE WORLD. Like Israel of old, the Christian church has been blessed with a unique view of reality. God’s self-disclosure has placed truth in the hands of believers, which makes the church a counterculture in the world. The two worldviews represented in this text, Israelite and Philistine, reflect the basic options still available today. In order to draw out the significance of this text for contemporary society and culture, we will need to consider the way today’s readers view God’s work in the world.

George Hunter, my colleague at Asbury, told recently of a conversation he had with two executives he met while waiting to board their planes in the Cincinnati airport.20 His simple question generated rich conversation: “Do you believe in God?” The first businessman appealed to the complexity and intricacy of the cosmos as evidence that God exists. It drove him to conclude: “I believe there is a God behind it all.” The second was somewhat less sanguine, pointing out the sheer size of the universe, which makes humankind look so insignificant.

Our planet is one of nine in our solar system. Our sun is one of a hundred million stars in our galaxy. Our Milky Way galaxy is one of a hundred million galaxies in the known universe. Granting what we know today about the vastness of space, it’s a stretch to believe that we could matter to the God behind all this.

Professor Hunter uses the assessment of these two executives to critique the understanding of God that has prevailed for generations in most societies of the Western world, namely, deism. Since the Enlightenment, British deism taught that the universe was a closed system, functioning like a well-timed machine with no need for God. Deism allowed for the existence of One Supreme Being, who started it all but whose function in creation was reduced to that of First Cause only. God is now like a “Cosmic Watchmaker,” who after having designed and created it all, has now left it to run on its own.21 He is distant and uninvolved, transcendent but not immanent. Enlightenment thinkers believed that what the world needed was more education and freedom to liberate people and allow humankind to evolve into the civilized and advanced culture that we could become.

With the collapse of the Enlightenment project and the arrival of a postmodern reaction, people are abandoning the idealistic thought that humans are advanced enough, intelligent enough, or even civilized enough to produce a more desirable world. Modernism has not brought the promises of the Enlightenment to fruition. People today are routinely reconsidering the assumption that the universe is a closed system. On the contrary, many educated people today reach for the great Beyond in a multitude of ways, as those listed by Professor Hunter: karma, curses, ghosts, angels, evil spirits, telepathy, astrological powers, out-of-body experiences, and mystery in many forms.

Recently in my local newspaper, I read of the growing phenomenon of “Sufism,” the seventh-century mystical Islamic devotion emphasizing a relationship with God expressed through poetry, whirling movement, and meditation. In March 2001, the eighth Sufism Symposium was being held in California’s Bay Area, where approximately three to four thousand Sufis live. Organizers of the symposium claimed Sufism is growing because of “a great longing within people’s souls to find more spirituality.”22

At the very time when many postmoderns are seeking God in these illegitimate ways, God seems evermore distant. Deism still clings, for God seems for many to be as far away as ever. As Hunter observes, for most in the West, it still requires a “stretch” to believe we matter to God. But biblical revelation breaks into this worldview and shatters it. Biblical truth offers an alternate view of reality that makes the others impossible. God, the transcendent Creator of the universe, is also immanent and thus immanently involved in the world.

The Bible’s witness is remarkably consistent on this point. God broke into Abram’s world and committed himself to Abram as friend and protector. Similarly, God broke into ancient Israel’s world and met them on Mount Sinai in order to bind himself to them in covenant love. In this text he crashed into the Philistine world in order to teach them that their various ways of explaining and understanding divine presence are all wrong. And Israel also learns in this text that the immanent God cannot be ignored, manipulated, or mishandled. He cares for them too much to allow them to misunderstand his nature.

As Professor Hunter explains, the rest of biblical revelation is unmistakable at this point. Of everything else the Bible teaches, this much is clear: We matter to God! The rest stands or falls on this remarkable claim—revolutionary for its time as well as for our day. Indeed, God is intimately involved in the clothing of the lilies and concerned with wounded sparrows (Matt. 6:26–30; 10:29; Luke 12:6, 24–28). In fact, God cares about everything in this world: birds, plants, animals, everything—but especially people. He numbers the hairs on our heads, which illustrates the depth and breadth of his knowledge and concern for us (Matt. 10:30; Luke 12:7).23

The message of this text is greatly needed in today’s world. It illustrates that the Philistine worldview—which is so similar in many ways to today’s postmodern New Age perspective—is inadequate. God is not coterminous with the forces of nature, nor is he created in our image. He is not susceptible to the forces of magic or idolatry. He cannot be manipulated or pressed into service whenever we feel threatened or at risk. The God of Israel is in fact immanent and in control; he is victorious over all the forces of our world, just as he was victorious over the Philistine god Dagon.

But the Philistine worldview was not the only one corrected in this text. The Israelites also had to reconsider the way they viewed God. Their monotheism must be complete and thorough. It marked Israel as unique in the world and made Israel’s voice a counterculture in the ancient Near East. Even when Israel failed to live up to the grace Yahweh had given, even when Israel seemed no more enlightened than the Philistines and attempted to manipulate and control God, God brought victory from the jaws of defeat.

Thus, this text speaks to both the world and the church today. It offers to the world a glimpse into this alternate reality, a reality in which God does care. He cares enough to break into the world and offer himself to the Philistines of our day as a full and beautiful revelation of his nature. He cares enough to become vulnerable, even to be captured by the enemy and to be treated as a trophy. But in the end, God will be victorious.

But this text also offers the church a glimpse into this alternate view of reality, which has theoretically marked believers off as unique in the world. This glimpse reminds us that God has cared enough for us to break into our world too, to become vulnerable to our sinful idolatry, even to allow himself to be exploited by the very ones who call on his name. We must, therefore, become thoroughly monotheistic; we must eschew all forms of idolatry; and we must learn again that because he cares for us, we must celebrate his freedom to move in our lives as he chooses.