Tuesday of the First week in Ordinary Time
Today’s first reading is a rather curious scene. A woman named Hannah is crying out to the Lord to help her bear a son. A priest named Eli sees her praying and it is so boisterous that he thinks she is drunk. He says to her, “How long will you make a drunken show of yourself? Sober up from your wine!” Hannah’s misery is so great that she cannot control herself and she is “weeping copiously.” In the end, Eli realizes his mistake—Hannah is not drunk at all--and wishes her well. The story has a happy ending, with Hannah giving birth to Samuel, prophet and leader of Israel.
Perhaps it is the cold winter weather, but I cannot help but relate to the weeping of Hannah. What is so beautiful about this passage is the display of human vulnerability. We can all relate, to various degrees, to Hannah’s sorrow. It is so intense that she looks drunk; she has no inhibitions and is coming to the Lord with reckless abandon. These moments in Scripture are beautiful for their realness. Instead of an idealized picture of the spiritual life, this part of Samuel gives us the raw emotion of a heart totally dependent on God. Her faith is strong but her sorrow is overwhelming. In her desperation, she throws herself in front of the Lord. She holds out hope for the promises God has made to be ever faithful to his people.
In her supplication, Hannah calls herself a “handmaid,” a word that Mary will later use to describe herself at the Annunciation. Furthermore, the psalm for today is also from Samuel and provides a sort of precursor to Mary’s Magnificat, her prayerful song of thanksgiving at Gabriel’s announcement. “My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior,” reads the refrain, not unlike Mary’s own, “My spirit rejoices in God my Savior” (Lk 1:47).
Both Hannah and Mary give us examples of a totally dependent faith. In some ways, the intensity and sorrow of Hannah comes easy to us, while the faith of Mary is more difficult. In Hannah, however, we should see her properly as a woman who knew exactly where to go: to the altar of the Lord. It may not always be pretty but bringing one’s true self to God often isn’t. It is precisely in the mess, in the intensity, in the “drunkenness” of our darkest places that God graces us.
- Katherine Schmidt