Within weeks of the release of the novella A Christmas Carol by British author Charles Dickens, a theatrical adaptation was already in the works. Ever since it opened in 1844, some version of the story has been in continual circulation—one-man shows, musical versions, modern updates—not to mention parodies, alternate takes, and even a Klingon version. The first film adaptation was released in 1901, and at least 14 direct adaptations would follow (not to mention numerous derivative versions).
My personal favorite is The Muppet Christmas Carol, in which an earnest Michael Caine delivers a masterful performance opposite Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy.
One thing almost all these adaptations share with the original novella is the name of the protagonist: Ebenezer Scrooge. Dickens had a genius for inventing memorable names that seem to capture the very essence of a character—think of Martin Chuzzlewit, John Jarndyce, or Oliver Twist. Ebenezer Scrooge is just such a name, conjuring the image of a miserly, bitter old man—sour and unpleasant.
Most people, if they are familiar with the word “Ebenezer,” immediately conjure up this image. It wasn’t a common name before A Christmas Carol, but neither was it unheard of. The 30th Attorney General of the United States, for example, was named Ebenezer R. Hoar (born about 30 years before the publication of the novella). While we can’t prove it, it’s not hard to imagine that Dickens’s association of the name with such a famously unpleasant character (transformation notwithstanding) discouraged many parents from choosing it. You don’t meet many Ebenezers anymore!
Most evangelical Christians, however, have encountered the word Ebenezer in a different context. The well-known hymn Come Thou Fount, written in 1758 by Robert Robinson, experienced a revival in popularity in the 1990s. Though it had remained in hymnals, it became a staple of modern worship through covers by contemporary Christian artists. Many churches still sing it regularly—despite the obscurity of some of its grammar and vocabulary.
The second verse begins: “Here I raise my Ebenezer; hither by thy help I’m come.” Many Christians sing these words without knowing what they mean.
During our Easter service yesterday, we heard a testimony from two of our church members, Mike and Lesley Bain. They shared some of the challenges of the past year—losing 90% of their belongings in the Eaton Fire, health struggles affecting them and their family, and the loss of Lesley’s job just days after she broke her leg. And yet, in the midst of these trials, they spoke of experiencing the goodness and graciousness of God sustaining them.
They also mentioned that mysterious word—Ebenezers—something they had clung to as they walked through this difficult season.
Mike and Lesley didn’t know it, but their testimony served double duty. It not only reminded us of God’s grace, but also introduced a major theme for the sermon series we begin this Sunday.
Where, after all, do Ebenezers come from?
Both the name and the hymn draw from 1 Samuel, where we find a story of God’s faithfulness to Israel during one of their darkest seasons. In the midst of it, God gave them victory, and they raised a great stone—eben meaning “stone” in Hebrew—to mark the place where He had helped them.
The Ebenezer was not a place of worship—not a shrine or a holy site. It was a stone of remembrance. It wasn’t worshiped, but it stirred worship because of what it represented. When the Israelites saw it, they remembered: “God is for us. He is able to help us. If we call upon Him, He will answer.”
That was the purpose of an Ebenezer.
“Thus far the Lord has helped us.”
As we enter into this new series in 1 Samuel, let me encourage you to pray:
“Lord, help me to remember what you have done for me—not only through Jesus on the cross, but in my own life: the people you have used to shape me, the events that led me to trust in you. May I remember your past goodness, and may it strengthen my faith in you now.”