Musical Prelude and Service.

1 Samuel 2:1-10 & Mark 13:1-8
You might be wondering why I keep turning to the subject of hope right now. Well, perhaps it has something to do with the circles I move within, but I am witnessing a great deal of grief and fear right now. I’ve heard from several people with difficult questions about what the coming years might bring around the world and here in Canada:
Anger, resentment; people who are not afraid to fabricate stories to fulfill their ambitions.
It is easy for people to succumb to feelings of futility.
Our vision of a world of love, of compassion and justice can seem like a far away dream. And lo and behold, the Revised Common Lectionary that I follow keeps bringing up scriptures that reflect on that idea of hope and how God insists that we hold onto and work with that hope.
Last week I purchased a new book. It is written and edited by two of my professors from seminary;
HyeRan Kim-Cragg and Don Schweitzer. It is a compilation of sermons from the United Church of Canada from 1910 to 2020. It also includes commentary from my professors placing those sermons in their context and discussing their value. It provides some remarkable inspiration, and also a glimpse into the ways the United Church of Canada has grown and responded to the world around it over the past century.
One of the sermons found in this book was written and delivered by Rev. Dr. Bev Brazier. Interestingly, she was born and raised in Sioux Lookout. But that’s not why I mention her here.
In 1989, she gave a sermon based on the story of Hannah. She titled it, Hannah – Woman of Fiery Hope. She notes that Hannah, in her despair, prays with emotion and hope, “pouring out her soul.”
For Bev Brazier, Hannah’s passion – her courage to express her emotions in all their messy distress, her anger and her heartbreak, is to be admired for the courage and the strength that this prayer reveals. This comes out in the chapter that precedes Hannah’s song.
In the chapter leading up to Hannah’s song, we get a bit of backstory explaining Hanna’s joy at the birth of her son. Hanna’s husband is Elkanah; a devout man who makes a point of making regular trips to Shilo to offer sacrifices with his wives Hannah and Peninnah and his children by Peninnah.
Meanwhile, Hannah has not been able to conceive. As much as these festivals are supposed to be a time of celebration, they are a time of pain and despair for Hannah.
It is certainly unjust, but Hannah’s worth in the world is determined by her ability to conceive a son, which she has failed to do through no fault of her own. This leads Hannah to find some time alone to pray to God for a son, during which she makes a bargain to dedicate that hoped-for child to God.
Eli, an older priest who is watching over the Arc of the Covenant, comes upon a praying Hannah and presumes she is drunk as he does not hear the words she is saying.
He says to her “How long will you make a drunken spectacle of yourself? Put away your wine.”
Reign in your emotions, don’t make a spectacle. Don’t make us feel uncomfortable with your grief. This is not the place for that. How many of you find familiarity in that message? Hannah politely corrects Eli’s misconception. “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.”
What does that prayer look like, that Eli assumes she has been overindulging? When I pray on my own, I can’t imagine someone would mistake it for drunkenness. What does that tell us about Hannah, her demeanor, her relationship with God?
And I will admit that since I considered this facet of the story; thank you to the writing of Rick Morley for this insight, it has influenced my thoughts on Hannah’s song once Samuel is born.
It is a song of enthusiasm, of delight in the change in her fortune. There is reverence there, but also joy. Hannah proves again to be an expressive person who wears her faith very much on her sleeve.
For Hannah, God is the creator, the lord who can turn the world around. She names the injustice of her world and demands a change. In Hannah’s song, nothing is forever. Her suffering is not forever. Her barrenness can be reversed. And the comfort and happiness of her tormenter is also temporary. They too will see a reversal of fortune.
“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.”
This song of Hannah’s is of course the inspiration for Mary’s song of faith. It is a song that names the injustice of the world. It names the way that many hunger, many suffer, many are left without a voice. And there are those who hold that power and that privilege and use it against the powerless. But that situation is not forever. It is in God’s hands to change things. But we cannot know the timing of God’s work.
God is forever. God’s love is forever. The institutions, the great buildings of human hands are temporary. Jesus speaks to this in Mark’s gospel. The disciples are remarking at and admiring the size of the temple, noting how large the stones are that built this massive structure. And Jesus says, none of these will survive. Let’s not forget that just a little earlier, Jesus notes the impoverished widow, who leaves her small but also immense offering in that temple. Another woman ignored and yet exploited in this temple.
And she, like Hannah, like Ruth and Naomi are seen and heard by God. Their prayers, their cries for justice are not ignored.
Jesus keeps telling his followers that not even he can say when things will change. At the same time, they are always changing. All we can do is remain faithful and committed to the God of love and justice that we follow. “This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.”
How appropriate is it that Jesus uses the image of a woman in labour to describe the coming of God’s kin-dom? New life that God keeps introducing, even when it seems impossible.
New life from women who are supposed to be too old to conceive. Migrant women in a strange and hostile country. A virgin promised in wedlock.
God finds a way to offer new life; a glimpse of light; a promise of a needed change.
Working through those who our world constantly undervalues, ignores, exploits, God keeps turning things upside down. When we are ready to give up, when we can’t begin to imagine how things can get better; God shows us a way.
And like Hannah, we will be moved to sing and say Hallelujah, Amen.
Rev. Warner Bloomfield

Music provided with permission through licensing with CCLI License number
2701258 and One License # A-731789