God is Our Rock

1 Samuel 1:4-20        Mark 13:1-8

Hannah wept and would not eat.

Hannah is the central character in today’s first reading, but we know little about her, except how terribly upset and probably depressed she is.  Our short Biblical reading this morning, giving a glimpse into the lives of these ancient Jewish people, does not tell us much about Hannah.

So, it is interesting to note that in those days, a girl was considered of age when she reached puberty.  Thus, someone as young as twelve years old might be engaged to be married, and was probably married by the time she reached fifteen.  Her husband, if this was his first marriage, was probably nineteen or twenty years of age.  Hannah was possibly twenty-five years old when today’s reading takes place.  Though there is some dispute over this, according to the Midrash, rabbinical tradition tells us that she is Elkana’s first wife, and that they had been married for ten years.

It seems Hannah has married a good man, and kind and loving man.  As she suffers, he looks on her with great pity and does his best to comfort her – by seeing to it see gets the best food at banquets.  This is very special treatment and speaks well of the man, but it’s quite likely his actions don’t go over well with Hannah’s sister wife, Peninnah.  Peninnah is a person about whom there are also conflating traditions, one of which says she was cruel to Hannah because of Elkana’s preferential treatment of her.

Possibly, because of his loving nature, or simply because a man would not be involved in the relationships of his wives, Elkana does not reprimand Peninnah for the way she treats Hannah.  Peninnah, who has no trouble bearing children, and for whatever reason be it jealousy or just a mean streak, takes great delight in taunting Hannah because she is childless. 

We have here, a loving but clueless husband, a nasty second wife, and a grieving first wife.  It is a description of a very difunctional family in which there is no comfort for Hannah.  The relationships are all somewhat toxic, and so with no worldly relief from her woes, when she can, she presents herself before the Lord.

And she prays, “O LORD of hosts, if only you will look on the misery of your servant, and remember me, and not forget your servant”.  She is distraught, weeping, begging, but also willing to give, to make an offering, and so, as she asks for a son, she also promises that child to God. If God will give to your servant a male child, then I will set him before you as a Nazirite [a Nazarite is one who is separated from others and consecrated to God] until the day of his death. 

It is not unusual on the Old Testament for humans to bargain with God, and as she makes this promise, Hannah is doing just that.  We are meant to be impressed both with her faithful endurance and with her ability to make such an offering as her bargain with the Lord.  And as she prays, she is overheard by a temple priest, by Eli, the last human character in the story.  He, too, mistakes what she is going through, but once corrected, he blesses the unhappy, childless woman.

"Go in peace; the God of Israel grant the petition you have made to Him." 

And that blessing touches something deep within her, something that no human being can offer her, it touches the bedrock of her soul.  She has what we might call an “ah hah” moment, but it is deeper than that.  Hannah feels the strength and promise of God flood through her.  Her doubts are gone and her sorrow is lifted.  She knows in her heart the meaning of the words from the Psalm [Psalm 18:2]  The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust;.”             

Thus, the final relationship in this story is the one between Hannah and God.  And things do go as Hannah has prayed.  She has a son, whom, when he turns three, she takes to the temple.  And as she leaves him there in the care of the priest Eli, who will raise him in the Lord’s service, she sings the song that was our responsive reading this morning.  My heart exults in the Lord; my strength is exalted in my God.

As Jesus came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, "Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!"

Sometimes life seems very secure and well organized.  Unlike Hannah, whose life was, for a long time, a living torment, a misery, the disciples know a relative stability.  True, they are a rag tag bunch, living in poverty, always on the road, but they have their center in their Rabbi and friend, Jesus. In today’s Gospel, with the enthusiasm of tourists, they marvel at the beauty and permanence of the world around them.  That’s how the temple must have seemed to them on that day, permanent; its huge stones, some three feet long, erected to the glory of God were surely meant to stand for eternity.  What a good and reassuring feeling.

But Jesus tells them otherwise.  Then Jesus asked, "Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down."

What is real?  Don’t we all look around us and if we see a warm and cozy home, food on the table, friends and relatives who care for us, do we not feel that life is goof and, as we say, “all is well”?  This what we have been taught, what our parents or guardians impressed on us in our youth.  This what we call “security”.

Sometimes we do not realize what “truths” we internalize, nor do we recognize when we have empowered someone to tell us what is real.  As we grow up, we think we no longer hold childish beliefs, that we’ve moved on from such things, and we stay convinced that we know what is best and what is right – that is - until our reality is shaken.

Right now in our society many people are apprehensive as they consider the possibilities of the near future.  What will happen to those who came here seeking freedom and justice?  Will programs like fuel assistance, SNAP, and WIC continue to exist?  Will Social Security be done away with?  Didn’t Lincoln assure us that our way of life would not perish from the earth.  Was he wrong?  If we let them, our imaginations can run wild in these interesting times.  But everything we fear is based on our belief that things in this world are or should be permanent.

Jesus disciples have no idea what He is telling them when he refers to the destruction of the temple.  They feel so safe, so secure, they cannot imagine such a calamity, but they are intrigued by His response.  When they can get Him alone for a minute, Peter, James, John and Andrew approach Him and ask, “when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” Then Jesus began to say to them, “Beware that no one leads you astray.”

And there is so much out there that begs to lead us astray, not the least of which is our own inclination to want to believe the false truth that things in this world are somehow permanent.  And yes we do, we want to believe that, no matter how mature we think we are.  In responding to His disciples, Jesus speaks of historic disasters, but looking for these as signs of the end time is not what He telling us to do.  He is telling us that nothing in this world lasts forever. What He calls us to do is face that and accept it.  Then we are to put our faith totally in Him, in God. 

To do this, we have endings we must make, the hardest of which is to let go of our constant desire to find permanence in the world.  Jesus calls us to change, something that most human beings dislike.  We prefer the old ways, the good old days, things as they’ve always been, but this won’t do.  We must end our faith in worldly security and put our faith in God.  I know – easier said than done.  T. S. Elliot wrote: “What we call the beginning is often the end and to make and end is to make a beginning.  The end is where we start from.”

God is not only Alpha - but Omega.  There is no arrival of God, without some sort of departure, no grasping of faith, without letting go.  In every move toward God, something is gained, but something also is lost, and the loss may be painful.  Nothing about us is built to last.  Only God, is permanent, all loving, unchanging.  These are good days to establish ourselves on the rock of our salvation, to give us strength, to put worldly cares in perspective.

Is this hard to do?  Definitely.  Does it hurt?  It can be painful.  Though saying “do this” is simple, it certainly isn’t easy - but it is the way to inner security and peace.  St. Teresa of Avila reminds us:  Let nothing disturb you, Let nothing frighten you, All things are passing: God never changes.  Patient endurance obtains all things.   Whoever has God wants for nothing; God alone suffices. 

And that is the Truth.  That is what Jesus wants us to remember, to believe.  Only God is permanent.  God alone endures.

Let us pray: (a prayer by St. Thomas Aquinas)

Give us, O Lord, a steadfast heart, which no unworthy affection may drag downwards; give us an unconquered heart, which no tribulation can wear out; give us an upright heart, which no unworthy purpose may tempt aside. Bestow upon us also, O Lord our God, understanding to know you, diligence to seek you, wisdom to find you, and a faithfulness that may finally embrace you; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.