Over the past month we have met several women who are
matriarchs in the faith. Carl Jung said, “Every Mother contains her daughter in
herself and every daughter her mother and every mother extends backwards into
her mother and forwards into her daughter.” If that is true then we have parts
of these faithful women in our DNA. We carry the strength of Eve, the
hopefulness of Naamah, the fulfillment of Sarah, the love of Leah, and the
inclusivity of Ruth.
Today, we’ll meet Hannah, a woman who knew the power of
prayer. In 1 Samuel, we learn that Hannah and her husband Elkanah lived in “the
hill country of Ephraim” in Ramathaim. This is the area of Israel, north of
Jerusalem. It included the famous holy site of Bethel, where Jacob saw the
ladder to heaven. By the time of Christ, this same area was known as Samaria.
Elkanah had two wives, and we learn in 1 Samuel 1:2 that “the
name of the other Peninnah. Peninnah had children, but Hannah had no children.”
We have seen before, in Sarah’s story, how the lack of children was
devastating in a culture that considered sons a gift from God, and having no
sons a form of curse. We are told that Peninnah often cruelly “used to provoke [Hannah]
severely, to irritate her, because the Lord had closed her womb.” (1
Samuel 1:6) Let's see how Hannah coped with this...
It was always hard to
go up to Shiloh. It wasn’t just the length of the journey, although it took two
days over the hills and through the wadis. We walked, and walked to make the
annual pilgrimage. My husband, Elkabah was very proud of his heritage. He was
descended from the line of Ephraim, one of the patriarch Joseph’s sons.
He insisted, “We must
make the required sacrifice at Shiloh. For that is where the Lord of hosts
meets his people.”
Eli was the aged
priest of the Holy One of Israel at Shiloh. His two sons now accepted the
sacrifices and prayers. They were not nearly as holy. In fact, it was whispered
that Hophni and Phinehas were disreputable and even stole from the offerings.
Eli didn’t seem to notice their evil.
I avoided them when I
offered my sacrifice. Elkanah always gave me a double portion for the offering
even though I had no children. It didn’t make me feel any better. Every year at
Shiloh I prayed for a child, even a daughter. Every year we returned home.
Every year I remained childless. I tried to hide my distress, but my husband
knew I was sad.
Elkanah tried to
comfort me, in the way of men, by asking, “Why do you weep and not eat? Why are
you so sad? Am I not more to you than 10 sons?”
Even though he held me
close when he tried to comfort me, my empty womb always stood in accusation of
my uselessness and even sinfulness.
Then one year it all
changed. I took my offering. As I had for years, I prayed. This time I added a
desperate promise, “O Lord of hosts, if only you will look on the
misery of your servant, and remember me, and will give to your servant a male
child, then I will dedicate him to you until the day of his death. He
shall drink neither wine nor intoxicants, and no razor shall touch his
head.”
I didn’t know that Eli
was sitting nearby as I wept and prayed. When I rose to go, he spoke.
“How long will you be
drunken? Put away the strong wine.”
Normally I would not
have responded to such an important man. Stung by his accusation and not caring
what happened to me, I snapped, “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 I turned to go. The
old man stood up, blocking my path. I cringed, fearing his anger.
Instead, he laid a
hand gently on my head, “Go in peace; the God of Israel grant the petition you
have made to him.”
I burst into tears,
and blubbered, “Let your servant find favor in your sight,” before rushing out
of the room.
Somehow the old
priest’s reassurance calmed my soul. Even Peninah’s nagging didn’t bother me
that evening. I welcomed my husband into my arms without reservation, feeling
that perhaps at last God would indeed answer my prayer.
And the Holy One of
Israel did! I conceived! My son was born not long before the annual pilgrimage.
We named him Samuel.
“I have asked this
child from the Lord,” I explained. “I promised to lend him back to the service
of God.”
The boy was my
delight.
“Let me stay home,” I
urged. “I have dedicated him to the service of the Living God, and when he is
weaned, I will take him to Eli at Shiloh to be raised there.
“Do what seems right,”
Elkanah agreed. I watched him tramp away with Peninah for three years before I
went with them again.
That year, my husband
gave me special offerings. There was a three-year old bull who had been just a
calf when Samuel was born. I also had an measure of finely ground flour and a
skin of wine.
After the sacrifice of
the bull, I led my son to the ancient priest. Bowing low, I told him, “My lord,
I am the woman who stood in your presence praying to the Lord for a son. The
Lord God has granted my desire, Now I return him to the service of the Lord for
as long as he shall live.”
Eli surprised me by
bowing in return. “He shall be as one of my own sons. May the favor of the Lord
God rest on him. May the Lord’s favor return to you, my daughter.”
I left the holy place
surprisingly exalted.
I found myself
praying, “My heart exults in the Lord; my strength is exalted in my God. My mouth
derides my enemies, because I rejoice in my victory. There is no Holy One like the
Lord, no one besides you; there is no Rock like our God. Talk no more so very proudly,
let not arrogance come from your mouth; for the Lord is a God of knowledge, and
by him actions are weighed. The bows of the mighty are broken, but the feeble gird
on strength. Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread, but those
who were hungry are fat with spoil. The barren has borne seven, but she who has
many children is forlorn. The Lord kills and brings to life; he brings down to Sheol
and raises up. The Lord makes poor and makes rich; he brings low, he also exalts.
He raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap, to make
them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor. For the pillars of the earth
are the Lord’s, and on them he has set the world. He will guard the feet of his
faithful ones, but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness; for not by might does
one prevail. The Lord! His adversaries shall be shattered; the Most High will thunder
in heaven. The Lord will judge the ends of the earth; he will give strength to
his king, and exalt the power of his anointed.”
As a reward for my
offering of my son, the Lord God blessed me with three more sons and two
daughters. Each year, I took a new tunic to Samuel when we went to Shiloh. I
loved watching how each year he was taller and wiser.
Truly I have been
blessed.
Hannah’s prayers were answered. Even though she had to wait
many years to see the result, she persisted.
Do you persist in prayer for your heart’s desire, or do you
give up when it looks like nothing is happening?
Hannah offered Samuel back to the Lord's service under the tutelage of Eli. The image is a statue by Tom White studios that depicts this moment.
Would you have been as brave as Hannah to offer her son to God's service at only 3 years old?
Do you feel like you have the ‘faith DNA’ of some of these
matriarchs of faith that we have met during Eastertide?
Next week, is Pentecost. We’ll hear from some of the women
who were present in the Upper Room that day.
