The Holy Book

1 Samuel 3 ~ The Great God Om

1
Hannah's wished-for miracle boy served Don El of heaven high, under Eli, the 14th judge's wing.
Eli was a priest and lord of the law. But never any vision saw. Didn't have the gift.
Few did in those days. Bit of a spiritual desert it was. Like Don El didn’t even exist.

2
A loyal servant of the Don, Eli lived long, but was weary at age 98. He lay on his bed for the night. His squinting eyes dim and short of sight.

3
The moving temple's oil lamp still flickered in the dark, casting light rays on the golden, unlost angel ark.
Little Sammy, wonder boy, 12 now, lay on the temple floor, his home, to sleep.

4
"Boy" an ancient, commanding voice echoed through the sanctum, rippling the oil.

5
Sam sprang up and ran to his master's chamber: "What is it, sir?" he innocently piped.
"Nothing, boy, go back to your room."
So Sammy went, confused.

6
He settled down and scratched his head and closed his eyes to sleep again, when "Boy!"
There it was again, the voice, vibrating through the temple like the ancient eastern Om.
No one was there but Master Eli. It could only be him. Silly, he's playing a game.
Sam skipped excitedly in, eager to see what it could be: "Here I am, you called for me." He giggled.
Eli chuckled back: "No boy, I'm just sleeping here. Go get some yourself."

7
Sammy was only 12. He wasn't expecting a message from heaven. He heard about such things in scripture stories. Wonderful heroes who answered the call. But no one he knew in person had ever heard the Almighty Om. Far from it. It was basically a legend. Something that happened long ago to people he would never know. Not something that happened nowadays, and certainly not to him. He was just a little boy. No one great like high priest Eli. Eli was a temple master, a great man of the faith, and he never heard any voices. Eli could barely hear Sammy's voice these days. So how could little Sammy hear El's? It was ridiculous even to think it.

8
Yet he heard it, yet again. He went to the judge's bed again. His voice quivered: "Master Eli?"
Eli stared wide-eyed at the tent wall, his back to the boy, frissons running down it. He knew what was going on. There was no voice. He might be old, but if a voice kept calling loud enough for the boy to hear, he'd hear it too. Unless it was not of this plane. An ethereal voice beamed direct to the brain, none but the hearer could hear.

9
The master knew just what to do. He rolled over and looked at the puzzle-faced boy, feeling sorry for him: "It's alright, lad," he said in a delicate voice: "Go lie down just one more time. But this time, if you hear a voice, say: "I hear you, El. How can I help?"

10
For the fourth time, as Sammy lay, the voice of El tapped a tune on the drums of his ears: "Sammy, can you hear?"
The boy sat up: "Yes, Don. I can. How may I help?"

11
"Listen to this: I'm a do something big. Itta make ears all over Israel tingle. Like lips sipping cups of hot goss. Wanna know what it is?"

12
"Yes, Don, I do."
"Your master is in trouble. He's been a naughty boy. I warned him I'll rain wrath on him if he didn't sort the issue, and he didn't, so I will. Everything I said I'd do to him, I'll do.

13
He knows what his sons have been upto. Hophni and Phinehas, the terrible two. Nicking food off the altar. Getting fat. Other stuff what's worse than that. Brought curses on themselves, they did. But didn't believe in the curses I laid. So haven't changed, and Eli has just let them be. He should've sacked them yonks ago. Not let them keep scheming and scamming away.

14
I told him his fam will be my priests no more. Said his sons and all their sons would die. He coulda put an end to it. Made it up to me. Paid me back for all the sins they did. But they didn't believe it was really me. They had no faith. My priests can't have no faith. So they can't be my priests no more. No amount of kissing up can save them now. They're finished."

15
Sam lay awake all night. He couldn't sleep. The sun rose. He didn't want to rise with it. Let him simply die. Yes. Maybe if he didn't move, Eli would just forget he existed.

16
Eli rose and prodded him with the toe of his sandal, to see if he was still alive: "Well lad? Did the dear Don speak to you last night?"
Sammy twiddled his fingers and looked nervously around.

17
"Tell me, boy," said Eli, gently. "Don't hide it from me or El will punish you. He'll do to you whatever he said he'd do to whoever he told you he'd do stuff to. If he told you he'd do stuff to anyone. So did he? Tell me all. Leave nothing out."

18
So Sammy told him every juicy chunk of curse the Don had laid.
Eli knew he had it coming. He was wise, but it was his sons. He was soft and set in his ways. He served the Don, but part of him always doubted. Was he serving the Don or just some old religion? Part of him always knew the Don was real:
"So be it," said the master, sickly, "El knows best. Now there's work to do. Fetch the dishes and clean the lamps."

19
Sammy ran, back and forth, serving El and reading scrolls, year after year, after year, after year, learning ever more, growing in body, mind and soul.
El was with him every day, filling his soul with wisdom. So every word Sam spoke was true. Nothing he said ever fell to the ground like a weak-winged chick fed trash. His words were meat-fed eagles soaring. Fine sights for saintly eyes. But it made sinners sick. Sick as rats, trembling in shadow.

20
Everyone in Israel knew Sammy was the chosen one. The prophet of El Jah. Ears tingled everywhere at everything he said. From the Village of Dan in the far north, at the foot of Hermon Hill. All the way down to Beersheba Town, on the edge of Negev Desert. People knew.

21
El spoke to Sammy every day at the moving temple of Shiloh, the old capital. He was quite the celebrity.