November 14, 2021 – 25th Sunday after Pentecost
Following the example of Hannah, to put ourselves completely in God’s hands, and open ourselves to God’s presence even in the midst of threatening and challenging circumstances.
Let us bow our heads in prayer. Holy and gracious God, we give you thanks for your presence in this time and place, and within each one of us. Help us now to open our minds, our hearts, our whole lives, to receive the gift of your living Word for us this day. And may the words of my mouth, and the meditations of all our hearts, be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
Well, this morning I want to look at the story of Hannah from the First Lesson. It’s a beautifully narrated story in this opening chapter of the First Book of Samuel. And, of course, it leads up to the birth of Samuel – a major figure in Israel’s history. This comes at a time after the Exodus, after Moses, and Joshua, and the period of the Judges; after Israel is starting to settle into the Promised Land, but before the emergence of the monarchy – before kings like Saul and David. So life is beginning to be settled for this nation of Israel, but it’s still experiencing a “newness” in the Promised Land.
The author mentions the family of Elkanah. From what we can tell he appears to be a respected landowner. It says he lives in the hill country – probably shepherding, or at least looking after flocks. Each year he and his family make a pilgrimage to offer special worship and sacrifice to God at the shrine in Shiloh – of course there’s no Temple yet in Jerusalem.
Elkanah has two wives – the first one, Hannah, and the second one, Penninah. Now this kind of polygamy was obviously allowed in Israel at this time, and it’s quite likely that Penninah came into the picture because Hannah was barren, and could not give Elkanah any children.
Barrenness in that society was seen as almost a curse from God. Even today, for some women, the inability to bear children causes a lot of grief – feelings of self-doubt, lowered self-esteem. It was probably much worse, of course, in that period of history in Israel because one of the primary roles of married women in that time was to bring forth children.
Hannah’s husband, Elkanah, empathizes with her and tries to honour her in his own way. But Penninah, who is described in the text as Hannah’s “rival”, rubs in Hannah’s shame – kind of like kicking a dog when it’s down. The author writes these words, “Her rival used to provoke her severely, to irritate her, because the Lord had closed her womb. So it went on year by year; as often as she went up to the house of the Lord, she used to provoke her.”
Now, as Christians, in our time, we worship weekly. So imagine, though, on a very special annual event – perhaps Christmas Eve – when you and your extended family were prepared to go to church to celebrate the birth of the Saviour, Jesus, and then one of your siblings taunts you and says, “I don’t know why you’re bothering to come to Church on Christmas Eve. Obviously God does not really love you! The birth of the Saviour that we’re celebrating won’t do you much good! That’s the kind of treatment that Hannah was receiving. And you experienced this every year – every Christmas Eve – just as Hanna experienced it every annual pilgrimage to Shiloh. And the very time when you think you might fine spiritual solace you are reminded of your marginalized and lesser status.
And then, we read about what happens when Hannah, overcome with grief and being tormented, prays to God in desperation, and Eli, the priest, even misinterprets what’s happening. The text reads, “Hannah was praying silently; only her lips moved, but her voice was not heard; therefore Eli thought she was drunk. So Eli said to her, “How long will you make a drunken spectacle of yourself? Put away your wine.” So again, going back to our present-day experience, imagine if at that Christmas Eve service, just as you’re about to come forward to receive Communion, you panic – you’re worried that you’re not worthy of what’s happening, and so you rush out the side door into the Chapel. And then, one of the assisting clergy sees what’s happening and follows you into the Chapel. But he figures that you’ve had too much to drink on Christmas Eve and asks if you want him to call a cab to take you home. It seems that everyone sees you as an outsider – someone who doesn’t belong – and doesn’t really belong in the community of the People of God.
But in our story, Hannah has the integrity and the strength to say what she is really dealing with. And so she answers Eli, “No, my lord, I am a woman deeply troubled; I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but I have been pouring out my soul before the Lord. Do not regard your servant as a worthless woman, for I have been speaking out of my great anxiety and vexation all this time.” Then the priest, Eli, does in fact wish her well. But otherwise, Hannah experiences no other change from that event. There is no visible sign of relief.
Even with all of this negativity – the hopeless signs around her, the community’s judgement that God has not blessed her with children, and then Penninah’s taunts, Hanna has cast herself on the mercy of God – even though nothing appears to happen when she does. And then author says, “In due time, Hannah conceived and bore a son.” – in God’s timing, in God’s way. Before that time arrived, before she knew she was pregnant, there was no indication that Hannah’s situation had changed. But she had made a decision to let go of her grief and torment. She had entrusted herself and her situation to God. The writer says, “Then the woman went to her quarters, ate and drank with her husband, and her countenance was sad no longer.”
Obviously, we can’t psychoanalyze Hannah, nor should we try. But what we do we see is a real-life experience of a member of the People of God, like us, dealing with the pain and anxiety of her situation – entirely beyond her control – where she is not receiving the kind of support she needs from some of her family and, at least initially, not even from her faith community and its leadership. But she still throws herself on God’s mercy – sharing her pain and offering to give back to God the answer to her prayer for the gift of a son. And then, not knowing the outcome, she carries on with her life in peace – waiting to see how her prayer is answered.
So what can we learn from this story of Hannah, who is obviously one of the great matriarchs of the ancient People of God? In today’s Collect Prayer, we prayed these words, “Free us from all that darkens and ensnares us.” Often when we come across those kind of words, we interpret the ‘darkening’ and the ‘ensnaring’ as referring to external things – vices, additions – to substances or behaviours, or to unhealthy living practices. But what about the internal things that darken and ensnare us – self-doubt, insecurities, anxiety, fear of failure or rejection, self-condemnation and self-judgement? These are all things that can darken and ensnare us as they did Hannah.
Along with Hannah, our attitude must be like the Psalmist in the first two verses of today’s Psalm 16. These were the words we sang, “Preserve me, O God, for in thee have I put my trust, I have said unto the Lord, ‘Thou art my God: I have no good apart from thee.’” Now these are not the victorious words of one standing on a mountain top. These are the desperate words, the “no-other-options” words, of one in a deep, dark valley. And then, having uttered a prayer like this – having whole-heartedly cast ourselves on God and God’s mercy (as Hannah did) then what? Well, the first two verses of our Closing Hymn today, which we’ll sing in a few moments, speaks to us very clearly. The hymn is “Forth in thy Name.” The first two lines, “Forth in thy name, O Lord, I go, my daily labour to pursue.” Knowing that you have cast your care on the Lord, to then carry on, to engage the life that lies before you. But to do so with this focus in lines 3 and 4: “thee, only thee, resolved to know in all I think or speak or do.” Where is God in this? How is God revealing God’s self in the midst of these challenging situations that I’m facing? That needs to be our focus. And even though we may not understand how God is in this, to engage our situation like the second verse of this hymn. “The task thy wisdom hath assigned O let me cheerfully fulfil.” Help me to walk through this piece of my life – this challenge – because you, O God, are with me. This has not confronted me without your knowledge, O God, or your presence. And then finally, “In all my works thy presence find, and prove thy good and perfect will.” Trusting that with this focus – this openness – this expectancy of God’s presence in our challenging situations, we will indeed discover and be embraced by that divine presence, and thereby prove God’s good will for us, even in the midst of difficult and threatening circumstances.
When situations in our lives, or self-judgements, condemnation and fears within us “darken and ensnare us”, remember the story of Hannah. Cast yourself on God and God’s mercy, and then let go – and let God’s presence and peace walk with you.
Amen.
