Hannah - keeper of the faith

A reflection on 1 Samuel, chapter 1: Sunday, 19 November 2006

Once upon a time in a land far away there lived a woman all on her own. Perhaps I should explain: about the time - long before you and I were born, or our parents, or even their parents; about the land - it was far away, far enough for us not to have visited, even though some have tried; about the woman - because there is no story without the woman; but most of all I should explain about her living on her own.

You see, she lived on her own with other people. By which I mean she shared her home, her hearth, her bed with others, but she was still on her own. It’s possible to live with others and be alone. It’s possible to rise and eat and work and sleep surrounded by family and friends and still be on your own. Perhaps you know what I mean.

The woman’s name was Hannah - you had guessed that by now - and her aloneness was not comfortable: not for her, not for the man who loved her, and certainly not for the woman who feared her. When worth is measured in baby boys, then “barren” is a desperate word. It seems that Elkanah loved her all the same, even loved her more, at least that’s the way the story reads, but still barren was who she was. She knew it, and he knew it, as did her rival.

Oh, he tried to make it comfortable. Each year, a double portion of the sacrificial lamb, to comfort, to reassure, to let her know that he saw more than emptiness in her. But her emptiness couldn’t be hidden. Her emptiness became both the cause of the other woman’s delight and the cause of her anguish. How could he love her? She was empty where Penninah was full; she was desolate where Penninah was fertile; she had no sons while Penninah had ensured a lineage, a heritage, a source of confidence in times to come. But still, he favoured the wrong woman.

What does an empty woman do in times like those?

Perhaps a woman who keeps the faith might go to pray. If all else fails, perhaps the One who closed the womb might also be the One to open it. A long time ago that’s how it was seen, and even now.

Now Hannah was one who kept the faith. And so she prayed, and her prayers were answered at once.

I wonder what a modern practitioner of science might say to Hannah’s answered prayer. Do you think there might be murmurings of “mind over matter”?

Eli the priest, once reassured that the woman is empty rather than full of wine, sends her on her way: “Go in peace, and may God grant your desire.”

Peace, of course, is the very thing which an empty woman lacks. While others rise in the dark of night to attend infant cries, while others chase the rebellious offspring or mop the fevered brow, at least they have the peace of knowing their worth. For they are the mothers of sons. But in barrenness there is no peace.

“Go in peace”. An easy thing to say; a harder thing to do.

But Hannah is one who keeps the faith. Perhaps Eli’s words are a gift.

Perhaps the empty woman is already no longer empty. She is not full of child, but perhaps she bears the seed of hope. She goes away hoping to find divine favour now lodged inside her womb. And she is no longer sad.

Faith and hope are not strangers.

Faith and hope go hand in hand into the face of death. There is light in the darkness. There is resurrection to follow death. Dying to self leads to rising in Christ.

Have you noticed how often this story is told? Hannah, Ruth and Naomi, a blind man beside the road, Lazarus from a tomb, Jesus from the tomb.

And in our time: Bonhoeffer, Martin Luther King, Mother Teresa – life from death in the slums and the streets, faith and hope hand in hand.

And now we are keepers of the faith.

Help us,
O Keeper of Faith,
to keep the faith entrusted to us,
faith in a world worth saving,
faith in a dream worth sharing,
faith in a heritage worth keeping
even as we reinvigorate it
to have meaning for us now.
Help us keep faith in You,
and help us not to lose faith in ourselves,
for faith is the substance of our hope,
and hope, the assurance of love.
Praise to You, O Faithful One,
now and forever.
Amen.

(source of prayer – Miriam Therese Winter, WomanWisdom)