 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
||||||||||||||||||
 |
 |
 |
|
||||||||||||||||
 |
|
||||||||||||||||||
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
||||||||||||
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
|||||||||||||||
 |
 |
|
|||||||||||||||||
 |
 |
|
|||||||||||||||||
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
||||||||||||
 |
|
||||||||||||||||||
 |
 |
|
|||||||||||||||||
November 15, 2009
I Samuel 1:1-28“In God's Hands”
Rev. Dr. Dave Davis
The second lesson this morning is the first chapter of the Old Testament book of I Samuel. It is the story of Hannah. Hannah, the mother of Samuel, she appears all of about a chapter and a half in the biblical story. Hannah’s song, in chapter two of I Samuel, “my heart exults in the Lord, my strength is exalted in my God”, it foreshadows Mary’s Song in the Gospel of Luke; the Magnificat. Just a chapter and a half for Hannah; she doesn’t make it into the gospel’s lineage of Jesus, like Ruth or Rahab. Rahab the harlot even made the Hall of Fame in Hebrews chapter 11, that litany of those who “by faith”. By First Samuel 2:21 Hannah exits the bible’s stage. “And the Lord took note of Hannah; she conceived and bore three sons and two daughters. And the boy Samuel grew up in the presence of the Lord.” That’s a biblical way of saying that when it came to Hannah, her life, her witness, her faith, it may have only been a chapter or two, but with Hannah and God and life, yeah, everything was okay. Not quite a “well done good and faithful servant” verse, but close.
So chapter one, which I am going to read in all of its fullness, it tells of Hannah’s family, her barrenness, her brutally honest prayer life, her daring independence, the deep undercurrent of faith. And in I Samuel chapter one, there are these questions that never really go away. The kind you don’t really want to talk about. Today we might just say, it’s kind of awkward. Traveling into the first chapter of I Samuel, it’s kind of like going to your in-laws house for Thanksgiving when you realize halfway through dinner that your spouse’s brother’s family is really struggling with some heavy heartbreaking, relationship threatening stuff. I don’t mean that to sound funny as much as real. Don’t misunderstand; the polygamy, the theology of barrenness and fertility, the animal sacrifice, and offering your child as a nazirite before the Lord. Chapter one is definitely the strange ancient world of the bible, but listen for the household drama of it all, the gut feelings to which we can all relate.
One other piece of context, I Samuel follows the little book of Ruth in the Old Testament canon. But at the end of the book of Judges right before Ruth, the very last verse, reads “In those days there was no king in Israel; all the people did what was right in their own eyes.” Or as it is described early in I Samuel itself, “The word of the Lord was rare in those days, visions were not widespread.” Spiritually speaking, Israel, God, community, life, worship, faith, spiritually speaking, things were pretty much a mess. So I Samuel chapter one, the household drama of it all, it unfolds in something that would be considered the opposite of a fruitful and rich harvest of kingdom life and faith. This isn’t a New Testament Book of Acts kind of context where thousands join and are baptized in one day. Hannah lived and prayed in a time and place and culture where many, most folks (all according to the text), where everyone just did what was right in their own eyes Maybe the ancient world of the Bible isn’t all that strange after all.
I Samuel 1:1-28
Did you see how Elkanah gave twice as much to Hannah after the sacrifice? You couldn’t miss it really, and I’m sure Peninnah never missed it, Hannah’s double portion? Maybe Elkanah knew her heart was broken, maybe he loved her more? It really doesn’t say, but it was kind of awkward. And that tension between Hannah and Peninnah? Wow. Elkanah, ever the guy, the man, he was trying to be loving to Hannah, and he thought he was enough, his love for her, her love for him; “why can’t I be enough?” Umh. How about when Hannah took on Eli the priest who accused her of being a drunken spectacle. “No, my lord, I am a woman deeply troubled…I am not drunk.” You go girl! Not just for yourself, but for every woman ever told by a religious authority, “No, not here, not now. Your faith would be such a spectacle!” Eli… there were no greater scoundrels in scripture than his too sons and he thought Hannah was a drunken spectacle? That’s not awkward, it just ticks me off. I guess he did do the priestly thing of asking God to hear her prayer, to grant her petition.
And did you notice, Hannah was “sad no longer.” It was as if she knew right then that it worked. In due time, she conceived and bore a son. And we were not supposed to miss the theological exclamation point, “and the Lord remembered her” That God-part of her pregnancy, that part of the barrenness and fertility narrative that plays throughout scripture (Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, Elizabeth), that part of covenantal life in the story of God’s people. And the Lord remembered her. Part of the awkwardness in the room of I Samuel 1, is that for the most part, amid the household drama of our own lives; our prayers, our negotiations, our begging and pleading, our anger with God, it never seems quite that easy—and the Lord remembered her, and she conceived, and she bore a son. Hannah named him Samuel, for she said, ‘I have asked him of the Lord.’
She left him there for the Lord. Did you see that? Right at the very end, the very, very end of chapter one, right before she prays and sings the downbeat of the tune that would become Mary’s Magnificat, she left him there for the Lord. A freshly weaned child. In the ancient world, maybe four years old? Hannah left Samuel to be raised in the temple. She left him with Eli of all people! That’s unbelievable! Some try to wrap their heads around it by assuming that when Elkanah took his family home, Hannah must have stayed behind with the child. Others wonder about why there’s no parting tears and despair. The Hannah of scripture was not one to hide her distress. Now, lending the child to the Lord as long as he lives, now leaving him there for the Lord, and we get nothing when it comes to the emotional gut wrench of it all?
She left him there for the Lord. Apparently there’s something about that verse, that half of a verse at the close of chapter one. She left him there for the Lord. But King James reads, “And he worshiped the Lord there.” “He bowed before the Lord” says another. Still another translation reads “Elkanah worshiped the Lord there.” And they worshiped the Lord there” is what the Old RSV reads. One ancient text leaves it out all together. He worshiped the Lord there. They worshiped the Lord there. Elkhanah worshiped the Lord there. He bowed before the Lord there. She left him there for the Lord? What on earth? Where are the inerrant and infallible English Bible fundamentalists when you need them?
Imagine the puzzle for a biblical scholar working not just with grammar and text, but with multiple texts that say different things, and multiple ancient languages that may not agree, and the scene here in the family drama of I Samuel 1. A four year old can’t really worship and bow before the Lord. Who is “the he” of he worshipped the Lord there. But the whole scene is about Hannah, not Elkanah, but the gender and the pronoun doesn’t help when it comes to bowing down. And what’s going on here in the broader narrative is that the child Samuel is being given back to God, lent back to God for his whole life, the favor is being returned. Hannah is leaving him there for the Lord. Biblical scholars and ancient scribes trying to wrap their heads around the awkwardness of a dangling verse. They look all around for clues, they don’t just grab something out of the blue. She left him there for the Lord. Really?!
As any family knows after a particularly long Thanksgiving dinner, as many a parent knows and tries to teach a maturing child, as any pastor knows who long ago gave up the certainty that comes with answering for God, as biblical textual scholars know who work with some puzzles that will never become clear, some awkwardness just doesn’t go away and not all questions have answers and when you travel to I Samuel 1 there is not much that can be said that can erase the cultural lost in translation-ness or the universal parental sense of discomfort that comes when you try to wrap your head and your heart and your faith around Hannah and Samuel and God.
But when you hang around for a while in I Samuel 1, you see that Hannah’s action didn’t come out of the blue. She didn’t leave him there out of the blue. Maybe Hannah only gets a chapter and a half of scripture but its hard to miss…how the family would go up year by year by year to Shiloh to worship and offer sacrifice to the Lord…how Hannah, at the rock bottom-ness of her struggle presented herself before the Lord…how her prayers, her vow, came not through the tradition or the work of the priest but through tears and a heart broken open before the Lord….how on the day of barrenness –ending conception the morning started early in worship before the Lord…how even and probably especially, after the child was born Elkanah went up for the yearly sacrifice and Hannah promised as soon as the child was able that she would bring him into the presence of the Lord…how when the child was still so young, Hannah brought him to Shiloh and made the necessary sacrifice and reminded God and everybody, “As you live, Lord, I am the woman who was standing right here before you!”….how Hannah prayed and burst into a song of praise that would one day offer the cadence of a song of magnified praise in celebration of the very Son of God….all in a chapter and a half, all of it at a time when everyone was doing what was right in their own eyes. Hannah. Samuel. God. Her action right there at the end. It wasn’t out of the blue. It’s hard to miss how Hannah’s life, her despair, her heart, her family tension, her faith, her barrenness, her conception, her worship life, her husband, her son…how all of it is right there before the Lord. It’s all there in God’s hands. Of course she left him there.
It’s not out of the blue. I guess its an odd expression to try to consider it, to shape into a faith statement. Far from theological language, a bit trite, not at all obvious. But think of the possibilities. When we’re gathered at the fount and the church has a child in arms ready to baptize, to stop and say to a parent, “you know, this isn’t out of the blue.” On Christmas Eve, at a service, you’re in the pew next to a family you have never seen before, you lean over offering hospitality and you say, “you know, this isn’t out of the blue.” A family gathers for prayer around a bedside before surgery, and the prayer itself comes with such confidence, “Holy God, we don’t come to you now out of the blue, but with an overwhelming sense that we know ourselves to be in your hands.”
To a couple standing here exchanging vows, to a choir working hard to sing Mozart, to a youth group kid fresh off a mission trip with unbridled enthusiasm, to a grieving family waiting out there before a service in Witness to the Resurrection is about to begin, to a volunteer stocking shelves at the Crisis Ministry, “You know, this isn’t out of the blue.” In a time and place and culture where it is so much easier just for everyone to do what they think is right in their one eyes, all of this, what we do, who we are, who God is calling us to be, it isn’t just out of the blue. All of it, the whole chapter and a half of our life together here as the body of Christ, all of it, every last bit, it’s all here in God’s hands.
I have told some of you about my visit with a group of pastors in Soweto, South Africa. We spent the morning together talking about ministry and the church and what we were learning about being pastors/leaders, what challenges we were facing. At the end Pastor Philip was chosen to offer a word of thanks to me. Philip had visited me here in my office with Malan Nel. Since that visit a few years ago, Philip’s daughter died of HIV/AIDS leaving them with two very young grandchildren. His mother is sick.
Philip said to me “I just want to thank you for not coming here in an expensive suit to tell us your success story of a congregation of 30,000 that meets in an arena somewhere in America. Because most days we’re just trying to figure out how to be the church. Poverty never gets any better. We work hard and still lose members. Most of us do 4 or 5 funerals on a Saturday. We all have other jobs to provide for our families. And last night someone stole my bicycle for the 4th time. My apologies for being late but I had to catch a taxi.” He paused a second, and his countenance lifted, then he said, “But God is still in heaven and Jesus is still Lord of all. And we pray God’s blessing on your ministry and your work in America.”
You get Philip’s affirmation? It wasn’t out of the blue. It’s hard to miss how Philip’s life, his despair, his heart, his family, his faith, his church, his nation, how all of it is right there before the Lord. It’s all there in God’s hand.
© 2009, Property of Nassau Presbyterian Church
Contact the church to obtain reprint permission