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Hillside Street, Bennington, Vermont (802) 442-2559
"resolutely inclusive, spiritually alive, and empowered for ministry in the world." |
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“Birthpangs of the Future”--November 15, 2009 1 Samuel 1:4-20, Mark 13:1-8
Posted: November 17th, 2009 @ 10:24am
It is an ancient story–almost 3000 years old–but it is also familiar. It’s a story woven together with threads of human frailty and strength, with themes that might be heard in the most contemporary drama– rivalry and cruelty, well-meaning indifference, devotion, mental feebleness, tenderness and strength. Even the setting of the story, though ancient, sounds remarkably current. It takes place at the end of the time of the Judges, when, we read in the book of that name, “there was no king in Israel; all the people did what was right in their own eyes.” (Judges 21:25) Everyone did their “own thing.” How “modern” is that?!
Of course, there is plenty in the story that has an ancient ring about it. Hannah had no children, we are told, “because the Lord had closed her womb.” Barrenness in ancient Israel meant no future. A woman who was barren suffered tremendous stigma and, often, cruelty, because, of course, before more current understandings of conception and fertility, females were thought to be merely the vessels–whether suitable or unsuitable–for the male seed, which was always suitable. And of course, as is still alarmingly true in many places to this day, it was a male child which truly guaranteed the future, being the one who could produce offspring, the only understanding of immortality in those days.
How interesting, then, that Hannah should be the central, strong figure in this story. Her husband Elkanah is portrayed as dutiful and well-meaning, if not tender to her, giving her extra portions of the sacrificed meat. He is prosperous enough, able to support two wives, but there is nothing particularly extraordinary or charismatic about him. One commentator writes that Elkanah was “so non-descript a man that his great-grandfather’s name was Tohu (Hebrew for ‘waste’!)” (Kate Huey in Weekly Seeds, 11/15/09) While his dreams are quite ordinary, his wife Hannah “dreams of a son dedicated to God not just for a little while but for all of his life.” (John C. Hobert, cited by Huey) Just as in the story of Ruth and Naomi, God is at work here in the margins.
Jim Forbes–the Rev. Dr. James Forbes, former senior pastor of NYC’s Riverside Church–has a wonderful sermon on this passage in which he suggests that it contains “the perfect name” for a baby girl–Hannah Rose. After one of these yearly pilgrimages to Shiloh, the shrine where the family offered their sacrifices to God and the priests, and after they had eaten and drunk there, we read that “Hannah rose and presented herself before the Lord.” Hannah Rose.
Hannah had at last had enough of the taunts and the patronizing; she had had enough of feeling worthless and unworthy; she had “bottomed out.” And it was then that “Hannah rose and presented herself before the Lord,” bypassing the old priest Eli who was snoozing beside the doorpost of the temple. “She was deeply distressed and prayed to the Lord, and wept bitterly. She made this vow: ‘O Lord of hosts, if only you will look on the misery of your servant, and remember me, and not forget your servant, but will give to your servant a male child, then I will set him before you as a nazirite [that is, one who is separated or one consecrated] until the day of his death. He shall drink neither wine nor intoxicants, and no razor shall touch his head.”
Though she spoke no words, no doubt her weeping and sighing awoke Eli, who, seeing her lips moving and the tears streaming down her face, assumes she’s had too much wine. When he scolds her, Hannah again rises to make her case. “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.” Eli, to his credit, recognizes the genuineness and depth of her longing, and gives her a blessing. “Go in peace; the God of Israel grant the petition you have made to him.” And she said, ‘Let your servant find favor in your sight.’ Then the woman went to her quarters, ate and drank with her husband, and her countenance was sad no longer.”
Hannah’s prayer is utterly innocent and trustful. As she tells Eli, she has been pouring out her soul before the Lord. There is nothing left but emptiness. But this emptiness is quite different from barrenness. This emptiness is rich with possibility. This emptiness is the fertile soil from which God can fashion and shape new futures. And in fact, in being now so open to grace (which, by the way, is what the name Hannah means) , Hannah is prepared not only to receive grace but to return it as well, as she dedicates the child to God’s service. She has already “paid it forward.” Fr. Richard Rohr, in his book The Naked Now: Learning to See as the Mystics See, writes, “Asking for something from God does not mean talking God into it; it means an awakening of the gift within ourselves.” (P. 20)
Now, obviously one cannot “awaken” the gift of a child within oneself, but have you noticed how many times couples who have despaired of ever being able to have children have reached a point of acceptance and peace and so begin adoption proceedings, only to find that, lo and behold, they become pregnant? Hannah left Shiloh in peace, “her countenance was sad no longer.”Perhaps she has even arrived at the place where, no matter what happens, she is at peace. Upon returning home, “Elkanah knew his wife Hannah, and the Lord remembered her. In due time Hannah conceived and bore a son.”
Once again, as in the story of Ruth and Naomi, a way opened up where there had appeared to be no way, and the boy Samuel grew up to be the great prophet who anointed Israel’s first kings, including David. Hannah imagined the future, which she dedicated to God. “Imagine,” as we say, “another world is possible.”
When Jesus’ disciples marvel at the great stones and immense architecture of the Temple in Jerusalem, Jesus suggests that they imagine another world is possible, only this one with the Temple destroyed, with not one stone left standing upon another. It is, in fact, the world that Mark’s community found themselves living in, for the Temple was about to be destroyed, or had already been destroyed, in their time, and the Jewish community scattered across the ancient world. It was the end time of the world they had known. This too, sounds strangely familiar.
Beware, [Jesus said] that no one leads you astray. Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and they will lead many astray. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birthpangs.
Like the situation in which Mark’s community found itself, our situation requires discernment of the false prophets who will lead people astray, saying “I am he!” (Or, “I am she!) Like Mark’s community, we are invited to be hopeful, for “these are but the beginnings of the birthpangs of the future.” “Imagine, another world is possible.” As in childbirth, the labor and the pain do not lead to despair but to hope, the hope that is, as one commentator suggests, “the anticipated dawn of God’s new day.” (Texts for preaching, Year B, p. 595)
Just as “Hannah rose and presented herself before the Lord,” so we too are called to rise and open ourselves up to the One who even now is at work creating new futures, not necessarily in the famous, charismatic ones who claim to have the answers, but more likely in the margins of society, in the lives of ordinary human beings like you and me, in the lives of all those humble enough to be open to grace and to go beyond receiving grace to returning it for the sake of the future. (Bruce Birch, cited by Huey)
When Hannah at last presents Samuel to the priest Eli and dedicates him to God, she sings a song that is echoed down through the centuries in the song of another unlikely mother-to-be, whose son would embody –and still embodies–our hope for the future. “My heart exults in the Lord,” Hannah sang, and “my strength is exalted in my God.” “My soul magnifies the Lord,” Mary sang, “and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.” With Hannah, let us rise up and present ourselves before God, to be vessels of grace and to live into the dawn of God’s new day. Amen, and amen.
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