Shelby Olive, Communications Associate

1 Samuel 2:1-10
Hannah prayed and said,

“My heart exults in the Lord; my strength is exalted in my God.
My mouth derides my enemies,  because I rejoice in my victory.
2 “There is no Holy One like the Lord, no one besides you;
    there is no Rock like our God.
3 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.
4 The bows of the mighty are broken,  but the feeble gird on strength.
5 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.
6 The Lord kills and brings to life;  he brings down to Sheol and raises up.
7 The Lord makes poor and makes rich;    he brings low, he also exalts.
8 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.
9 “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.
10 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.”

Reflection:
Friends, I have a confession… I might be a little bit of a Scrooge.

It’s not that I don’t like Christmas. I would love nothing more than to join everyone in singing all the carols and feel the hope, love, joy and peace with a big smile on my face. Everyone else seems to have it together — beautifully coordinated Christmas photos, seasonal home décor that looks like it came straight out of Better Homes & Gardens, not to mention all of the fun parties they seem to be having! But every year, without fail, there seems to be absolutely nothing I can do to get myself into the Christmas spirit, and it can seem as though everyone is having a great time without me, as if I have yet to unlock the secret to feeling all the Christmas feelings that everyone else has. Instead, old pains come back to the surface and multiply, and I start wishing I could go back to the Christmases of my childhood before they were tinged with grief, obligation, and unmet expectations. Joy seems foreign and far. But it’s times like these when I turn to Scriptures, where I can see others who find joy in the midst of great pain.

Hannah was all too familiar with disappointment and grief- arguably one of the deepest forms of grief- infertility. Such an issue in an ancient Near Eastern religious community added extra layers of grief and insecurity. Without children, women faced the threat of poverty because she would be without family to care for them in their old age. In Hannah’s case, she was not her husband’s only wife, and even though she was the object of his favor, his other wife bore him many children. Additionally, having no children was viewed as a direct punishment for sin in the eyes of this culture, leaving a stain on the woman’s social standing within her community. Hannah is vulnerable, ashamed, heartbroken, and isolated. At one point, her husband dares to tell her, “Why do you weep? Why do you not eat? Why is your heart sad? Am I not more to you than ten sons?” (1 Sam 1:8) This same sentiment is often expressed to those who find themselves with the burden of immense grief. So why on earth does Hannah rejoice?

With no one else to turn to, Hannah goes to God and begs for a son. If God would grant her this, she’d turn around and give him right back to God. If we aren’t careful here this story can bolster that temptation to paint God out as a Genie-in-a-bottle kind of deity. God indeed provides, and she sings this song. But she doesn’t sing this song when she conceives or gives birth; she sings it when she dedicates her son, Samuel, back to the Lord. In fact, this song isn’t even about God giving her what she wanted in the first place. This song is an outpouring of joyful praise to the God who sees.

Hannah’s joy is rooted in God’s unending compassion for those who cry out in despair. She rejoices because the God who created the universe saw her in her pain and met her there, just as God sees all of us in our pain and meets us with the person of Jesus Christ.

To be in God’s compassionate gaze in the midst of immense grief, disappointment, shame, frustration, and isolation is an occasion for rejoicing—one where we can be fully honest about the very real pain in our lives yet still turn around and say, “This is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.”

Prayer:
God who sees us,
Look upon your people today who cry out to you and lift our heads so that we may see your loving gaze. May your compassion be an unending source of joy. Amen.