God's new start (1) Hannah's faith

In her deep anguish Hannah prayed to the Lord, weeping bitterly. And she made a vow, saying, “Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his life, and no razor will ever be used on his head.”

As she kept on praying to the Lord, Eli observed her mouth. Hannah was praying in her heart, and her lips were moving, but her voice was not heard. Eli thought she was drunk and said to her, “How long are you going to stay drunk? Put away your wine.”

“Not so, my lord,” Hannah replied, “I am a woman who is deeply troubled. I have not been drinking wine or beer; I was pouring out my soul to the Lord. Do not take your servant for a wicked woman; I have been praying here out of my great anguish and grief.”

Eli answered, “Go in peace, and may the God of Israel grant you what you have asked of him.” 1 Samuel 1:10-17

It’s about 1100 years before Jesus, and Israel is in a seriously bad way. They have turned away from God and adopted the practices of the nations around them. Their religious leaders, especially the priest Eli and his two sons, have lost their way, and there is moral and spiritual rottenness at the heart of the nation. God decides that enough is enough – it’s time to pass judgment on the present leadership and to start afresh.

So dramatic events are round the corner, events such as to “make everyone’s ears tingle” (I Samuel 3:11). And the new start begins with an unsung hero of the Bible: Hannah, the childless woman. To get the full picture we need to read all of chapters 1-3 of 1 Samuel, but the part I have quoted plunges us into the heart of the drama.

The essence of the story is that God miraculously answers Hannah’s desperate prayer for a child – and the birth of that child, Samuel, will be also the birth of the new Israel. This is a story, then, of how God loves to take very ordinary people, and to make them special – very special indeed. (Straight away there’s a message there for you and me, don’t you think?)

As I look at Hannah’s story, two things in particular stand out…

First, her deep inner sadness.

To be childless in ancient Israel was perhaps the worst thing that could happen to a married woman. For some, it was a sign of God’s displeasure – given that a woman had little status, no education, and few if any opportunities to develop her gifts and talents, bearing children was pretty much “all she was good for”.

Hannah, then, knew the meaning of dashed hopes.

We can imagine her wedding-day: she married Elkanah, a good man who truly loved her, and no doubt the occasion shook with joy and celebration. She will have eagerly awaited the arrival of her first child. But a year went by, and no child. A second year… a third year… and slowly it became apparent that it was not going to happen. How many tears did Hannah shed?

We can use our imaginations to picture a terrible day when Elkanah and Hannah had an intensely painful conversation... “Hannah, you know I love you very dearly, and always will…” and Hannah, her heart turning to ice, knew what was coming… “but I do need to have children, and our neighbours have agreed that their daughter Peninnah should become my second wife. You do understand, don’t you?”

Understand? What choice did she have?

It only got worse when Peninnah produced a succession of sons and daughters and began to gloat over Hannah and enjoy her misery. Yes, Elkanah tried to comfort her, and meant well, but what consolation was there for her?

I have no doubt that every day of our lives we rub shoulders with the Hannahs of this world – men as well as women who carry within their hearts dashed hopes and shattered dreams. They might greet us with a smile or wave to us across the street, but who can know what pain they carry? A terrible family tragedy… a life-changing sickness… a child who has lost their way (like Eli’s sons)… an ambition never achieved…

“Each heart knows its own bitterness…” says Proverbs 14:10. If nothing else, let this dark side of Hannah’s story soften our hearts and teach us kindness and compassion for those with whom we share our lives, however distantly.

The second thing about Hannah that stands out, of course, is her determined and persevering faith.

The whole family went every year to worship God at the shrine in Shiloh. Worship was accompanied by feasting, and we can imagine the sound of laughter and of Peninnah’s children running around.

But Hannah has no appetite for either food or laughter. She heads back to the temple to be alone and to pray. And she holds nothing back, “pouring out her soul to the Lord” - so much so that Eli jumps to a cruel conclusion: “You’re drunk! How long do you plan to keep this up? Sober up, woman!” (Message translation) (Given the state of things in Israel, no doubt Eli would have been well familiar with drunken behaviour.)

Hannah puts Eli right in humble but plain language, and, to his credit, he recognises his mistake and wishes her well: “Go in peace, and may the God of Israel grant you what you have asked of him”.

I love the little detail that’s given us next: “Then she went her way and ate something, and her face was no longer downcast” (verse 18). Her prayer has not yet been answered - yet her appetite is restored and her spirits lifted. Thanks be to God!

Anyone who is serious about prayer will know well that breakthroughs such as Hannah enjoyed that day are the exception rather than the rule. But her perseverance offers us a very simple message: Christian, never give up!

You can never know what God has up his sleeve; but you can know that in the end he will bring you through, and your tears will be turned to laughter.

Dear loving heavenly Father, in my tears be my comfort, in my sorrow be my hope, in my darkness be my light, and so bring me to that day when I will see Jesus face to face, and when every tear will be wiped away. Amen.