Clayton Van Huss

While scraping dirt off of dirt in Tel Shilo, I came across many objects.  Some were mysteries to me with unknown functions or unrecognizable features, but this one I knew.  Just the day before, Dr. Gary Byers of Trinity Southwest University had taken the time to familiarize me with Iron Age lamps.  There was a unique curvature to the pottery, very similar to the “fish lips” that I used to imitate as a child by sucking in my cheeks.  This curved lip was different from the mouth of trefoil pottery in that there was usually black soot around the edge indicating where the flaxen wick would have burned the olive oil that was used as fuel.

Our square was confidently dated to the Late Bronze Age, possibly a storage room built against the massive city wall, but I was busy removing tumble from a later period.  This mass of dirt on the inner wall was an intrusion from the Iron Age.  My guffa (a sort of bucket or pail made from old tires) was full of dirt, small rocks, and potsherds.  Scooping the troweled dirt into a dustpan, I noticed the curved bit of pottery.  I picked it out to toss it into my pail (ABSOLUTELY NOT A BUCKET) of diagnostic sherds.

Like Burns’ plowman who came across a mouse nest and took his chance to rest from physical labor to ponder the fates of mice and men, I wondered about the experiences of this little piece of fired clay.  I looked at the black edge and thought about who might have lit the wick and benefited from the small amount of light produced thereby.  Looking just a few meters up the hill, I could see the monumental walls of an intriguing structure.  The proportions of those Iron Age walls match nicely with the biblical description of the Tabernacle.  For reasons that will be covered in future posts, we believe that those walls may well have held the curtains of the Tabernacle.

Looking at the structure, I was reminded of two biblical accounts and wondered if this sherd of pottery could have witnessed either one.  First, I thought of Hannah.  Hannah had come to Shiloh with Elkanah, her husband, to bring tithes and offer sacrifice to the God of Israel.  Hannah was unable to bear children.  Grieving in her heart, Hannah knelt near the doorpost of the Tabernacle and prayed silently to God to give her a son.  Although no sound came from her lips, the Lord heard the prayer of Hannah and sent her a son, Samuel.

After some time, Hannah brought her firstborn son to the Tabernacle and gave him, the most precious thing in her possession, to God.  Samuel grew up in the service of the Lord under the direction the High Priest, Eli.  One night as the boy was drifting off to sleep, he heard a voice calling his name.  Three times he went obediently to Eli, and three times Eli told Samuel that he had not called the boy.  On the third occasion, Eli realized that the voice was that of God.  He told Samuel to answer the Lord the next time he heard the voice.  Samuel obeyed and God spoke with him, revealing His plans for the house of Eli.

As I pondered these instances, I turned the tiny piece of clay over in my gloved hand.  Did this sherd wash down the hill from the Tabernacle?  Could it be possible that this was a piece of the lamp that young Samuel extinguished the night he first heard the voice of the Lord?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  It was certainly from the right time, but in this life I will never know the history of that little chip of pottery.

In my meditation there under the hot sun of Shiloh, I also prayed.  I thanked God for the opportunity to dig in that special place.  I asked for direction and opportunities to serve like Samuel.  I prayed silently, confident that the Lord heard my prayer.  Like Samuel, the Lord spoke to me too, not in an audible voice in the night, but quietly in my opened heart.  He reminded me that He has plans and a direction for my life.  I may not see the end my path, but I can confidently walk with the lamp that He has given me one step at a time.  I don’t know what adventures lie ahead, but I know that He has ordained them, and I am more than okay with that.