Richard Davenport
January 14, 2024 – Second Sunday after Epiphany
1 Samuel 3:1-10
The story of Samuel is one we only get bits and pieces of in the readings we have throughout the year. Samuel is involved in much of the early Israel’s life as it makes the transition from tribal nation to kingdom. He is born at the end of the age of the judges that watched over Israel from time to time and he lived until chapter 25, as David’s influence grows and Saul is trying to kill David to hold on to his throne. The entire book of 2 Samuel doesn’t involve Samuel at all, but it follows his influence, as he anointed Saul and then David at God’s direction. Since David is one of the most iconic figures of ancient Israel and Samuel was not only the prophet who not only anointed Israel’s first two kings, but also worked to keep them faith, it is appropriate that these two books detailing Israel’s first years as a kingdom be attributed to him.
That’s where Samuel ends up, though. It isn’t where he begins. His story begins back in chapter 1 with a woman named Hannah. Hannah is married to Elkanah, who also has another wife. Elkanah has a number of children with his other wife, but Hannah has no children. This becomes quite a sore point for Hannah and she prays about it constantly. At one point she’s at the tabernacle praying and her prayers are overheard by Eli the priest. She made a vow that if God gives her a son, she will dedicate her son to God. Eli asks that God grant her request.
A little time passes and Hannah does indeed bear a son and she names him Samuel, whose name roughly translates to “Heard by God,” a fitting name for a boy who represents God’s positive answer to her prayers.
But, now what? She has a son and this shame she feels at being childless is taken away. She rejoices at the gift he has given her. But, she also made a vow to God. She has her little boy and raises him until he’s no more than about 3 years old. Then they all take a trip to the tabernacle, where Elkanah and Hannah offer a sacrifice to God and Samuel is left there with the priests. This little person that she had prayed for so often is given back to God. She gets at most a couple of short years with him and then he’s there at the tabernacle to stay.
That isn’t to say he’s completely out of her life, but it’s about a 18 hour walk from where they live to get to Jerusalem and that’s by modern standards with modern roads and other conveniences, unencumbered by things you might need for a long stay. You can do it, but it probably isn’t going to be something you’ll be able to do with a lot of regularity, certainly not enough to be an ongoing presence in his life.
As a parent, I wonder about all of this. How would you even go through with this? She goes on to have other children, but she’ll never get to have that same kind of relationship with her little boy here, her firstborn. After chapter 2 we don’t hear about Hannah anymore, so we have no idea how often she visited, other than that we’re told she made him a new robe every year that she gave him when they came to offer a yearly sacrifice.
You’ve waited all this time for a child. God hears your prayer and gives you a child and then you give him up again. In that sense, it’s not all that different from the tragedy of miscarriage, or infants who die from SIDS or similar issues. God gives and then God takes and you’re left with nothing. What are you supposed to do with that?
You hear the heartbreaking stories of couples who have miscarriages or who lose their baby to some terrible ailment. You think about how awful that is. Here’s something that this couple has been waiting for, hoping for. Now it seems their prayer has been heard and God is granting their request.
Except not. God gives something and then God takes it away again. You get it just long enough to get excited about it and then it’s gone again. You can picture your life together. You’ve prepared for that life, both mentally, as you think about what that life will mean and what you will need to do in it, and physically, adjusting your situation to accommodate this new person. New nursery, new clothes, and all of the rest. Now it’s all for nothing.
It might make you think of people like Job, who faced a similar situation, having all of his children killed on the same day. While Job does get himself into a bit of trouble for protesting his complete innocence through the rest of the book bearing his name, he at least starts off by saying, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”
That’s a lot to take in. All of the experiences you won’t have, the memories you won’t make, the time together that’s forever out of reach. Could you be as blasé about it as Hannah or Job appear to be? “Oh well, easy come, easy go I guess. Sure I’ve been praying for (fill in whatever you’ve been most hoping for) a child, a job, my health, a restored relationship, etc. and I suppose you did technically give it to me, but then you took it back right away. But that’s ok. That’s just how it is.”
Job seems it just isn’t bothering him that much. He sounds content. Hannah is happy. She rejoices even though she hardly gets to see her firstborn child anymore. Are these people for real? Does anyone act like that? Can anyone just shrug and move on?
Before we consider further how absurd it all sounds, we must also remember there are things Scripture says and things it doesn’t say and we should not confuse the two. It does tell us of Hannah’s joy and of Job’s acceptance, but it does not say they weren’t sad, that they didn’t mourn. It does not say they were perfectly happy and had no doubts or they never felt the loss of what might have been.
Looking at the Old Testament reading for today, you might get the impression that the message you’re supposed to take from all of this is that you should be glad when these kinds of things happen. God had more important plans for that person or for you and you need to be happy in spite of the fact that you’ve lost a child, or lost a chance to make memories, lost a chance to find peace and stability, lost a chance to share life with someone you love.
There’s the little saying I still hear every once in a while at a funeral, that “God took your grandma because he needed her in heaven.” I’m sure it’s supposed to make you feel better, but, aside from the fact that God never ever talks like this, it doesn’t help me deal with the loss. I might be glad for the loved one I’ve lost, but I’m still here dealing with that loss.
Thankfully, God isn’t trying to pass off your sadness as fake or unimportant. He isn’t trying to cheer you up with empty little sayings. God deals with the reality of sin and death. He deals with it head on. He gives Hannah a gift, something she never would have had otherwise. Job’s children were a gift as well. None of them, none of us would have anything if not for God.
He doesn’t call for us to put on fake smiles as if nothing had happened. He doesn’t call for you to rejoice as if nothing has changed. He asks you to see his work in the midst of it and in spite of the evil, in spite of the sadness and the grief, in spite of the heartache and loss.
His promise to care for his people is an everlasting promise and it stands for both you and your needs and for those of everyone else, including those you’ve lost. Even those who have died trusting in Christ are still cared for by him. They are neither lost nor forgotten. Your grief is real, but it is also temporary. We give thanks and find contentment, not because God has just waved our grief away, but because he has stepped into the middle of it. He showed his love for us in giving us a gift that, however temporary, was still something we would never have had otherwise.
What’s more, we see God’s love at work. Yes, we do face sorrow and sadness, but God isn’t done. Sin and death do not rule the day. Job will end up seeing his children again and has more children besides. Hannah will see her son again, and he goes on to be used by God for great things. God doesn’t comfort you with empty sayings as if your sadness doesn’t matter, as if sin and death are just a part of life. Instead he triumphs over them.
God understands your heartache. He has been there too. The Father sending his Son to earth. His Son suffers unjustly, is put to death unjustly, his life taken from him unjustly. But he enters into that sadness and death to triumph over them. God is still at work. He works through that death and in spite of it. The Father sees his Son again. We see him too.
God doesn’t say we shouldn’t be sad. Instead he tells us to look at what he is doing in the midst of it. Hannah could have held on to her son and refused to give him up. The Father could have held on to his Son, but in giving them up God takes that sadness, that sacrifice and does something greater.
Jesus tells his disciples, “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.” A recognition that everything came from God and is given back to him for greater purposes, whether that be possessions, things we love, or our own life. To give it back is to acknowledge that it is a gift and it always was.
Here in the worship service, we do something unique, something that the rest of the world doesn’t do. We offer ourselves, our possession, indeed all of creation back to God. The rest of the world may think it can hold on to things or that it is owed things, or that it can control things. The rest of the world may think it can make something last forever. We know it isn’t ours and never was. We offer the gifts back to the giver to acknowledge that they aren’t ours and he alone can give life that goes beyond this temporary world of sadness and death into a life eternal.
Through what God says to us here, we hear him calling us to put aside the sin, the temptation to hold on to something. We see him at work and repent. We see him take what we give him and bring new life to it. We see him bring new life to us. Through his grace, the sin is taken away and through his Spirit, as we are washed clean at the font and as we received the body and blood of our risen Lord, we are given new life, eternal life.
We hear his call and offer ourselves to him. We lift up the world to him, asking him to use us, to use his creation, in the way he knows best, to extend his kingdom and bring his grace to all. We in the church continue this practice, the same practice we see in Hannah and in God himself, receiving his gift and then giving it back to him. We make a statement to the world. We tell the world who the Creator is, who the Savior is, who it is that gives life and all things. We give creation the chance to do what it was meant to do, serve God. This is the essential work of God’s people and one of the reasons we gather here together. We gather around God and see his grace active in our lives and know that, whatever sadness and heartache we find here, they are temporary, for he is has been to that same place, to bring his light and love there. His grace and life take us through it all and carry us into eternity.