As we got of the bus for our third historical site of the day, my feet ached and my back was tired. !e air was humid, the sun beat down on my tanned neck, and the water in my backpack had long turned warm as we trudged our way through this arid historical landmark. When we finally made it to the back of the property, the professor pulled out his bible and began reading 1 Samuel 4. As we stood there, on the very spot of the ancient tabernacle in the historical site of Shiloh, I could begin to imagine the disheveled Benjamite running through the pass leading up to the city. I turned my eye toward the tabernacle grounds and I could picture old Eli, blind from age, sitting in his chair, awaiting the outcome of the battle. And I could envision the Benjamite telling Eli about the death of his sons and the capture of the Ark of the Living God, and Eli falling over backward to his own death.