Kahu's Manao

Keawala‘i Congregational Church
United Church of Christ (USA)

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sunday, November 15, 2009

The Rev. Kealahou C. Alika

“Faith and hope for the future”
1 Samuel 1:4-20 & Mark 13:1-8

“I cut the umbilical cord,” Peter said. “I held him for a moment before I gave him to Sara. I don’t remember either of us saying anything. It’s not that we were tongue-tied,” he explained. “It was just such an amazing moment that there were no words to describe what we were experiencing.”

Then he added in a voice filled with grace, “Christopher came to us as a gift!”

A film is out in movie theaters now based on what some scholars say is a misreading of ancient Mayan culture. I have seen only the trailer for “2012”, a film based on the prediction that the end of the world will occur in the year 2012.

I am not one to take “end of the world” films very seriously. However, when I got home from a trip to Honolulu yesterday I found a religious tract outside my front door bearing the question: “How can you survive the end of the world?”

I began to wonder if perhaps the time is not due for all of what we know of our existence to come to an end. Whatever may trouble us about the future would be resolved.

But I could not help but sense the joy in Peter’s voice when he said, “Christopher came to us as a gift!” The future for Peter and for Sara is filled with hope.

The books of first and second Samuel tell the stories of powerful leaders in the history of Israel and of the hope and aspirations of the Jewish people. Our reading this morning tells the particular story of the birth of Samuel and it comes from his mother’s point of view.

The focus is on Hannah, a woman who must navigate through conflicts within her own family. We learn very quickly that Hannah is unable to bear children. (1 Samuel 1:2, 5-6)

In the ancient world being “barren” was often viewed as a sign of God’s punishment. Because a woman’s identity was tied to bearing children, the stigma was great for women who could not conceive. (Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 4, Bartlett & Taylor, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Kentucky, 2009, page 291)

A woman was scorned if she failed to provide her husband and family with heirs. It is something Hannah is painfully aware of. Yet Elkanah’s love for Hannah as his wife does not waver even though they remain childless.

But Peninnah, Elkanah’s other wife, gives Hannah no peace by “irritating” her. (1 Samuel 1:6) Peninnah is relentless in her provocation of Hannah.

On one of their annual pilgrimages to Shiloh, Hannah leaves a banquet at which they had finished eating and drinking. She goes to the Temple and makes a plea to God that she be given a male child. She vows to dedicate that child to God’s service.

While at the Temple she encounters Eli, a priest. Eli observes Hannah and notices that she appears to be praying but a voice is not heard. Only her lips move and so he concludes she has had a little too much to drink.

Hannah responds to Eli by letting him know that she is far from drunk. Troubled and filled with anxiety at her lot in life, she tells Eli that she has been pouring her soul out to God and calls on him not to regard her as a worthless woman. (1 Samuel 1:16)

Eli relents and offers his word of blessing. In time Hannah bears a son and in doing so we become aware that it was her persistence and her humility in prayer that led to the birth of Samuel and not necessarily Eli’s blessing.

It is through the birth of Samuel that Hannah is blessed. But what if Hannah had not been able to bear a child? Would we have concluded that she was cursed by God?

The following story provides us with a response we know to be true.

“‘Wasn’t that a wonderful Mother’s Day sermon?’ the well-meaning woman asked her young female friend as they sipped coffee in the fellowship hall. There was no answer. Nor would there be. Her friend set her cup down with a clatter and ran toward the women’s room in tears.”

“Mother’s Day is notoriously tough on ‘women in waiting,’ that is, those who are trying desperately – and unsuccessfully – for a child . . . Why doesn’t God answer their prayers in the affirmative?”

“The simple answer is that no one knows. Even the Bible doesn’t speculate on this and only rarely gives the reasons for the ‘opening’ or ‘closing’ of someone’s womb. Yet one thing is abundantly clear: the birth of a child is a gift of God’s grace.”

“Maybe we should take our cue from that grace on Mother’s Day (or any other day). Our children are gifts, not merit badges. As we ‘rejoice with those who rejoice,’ let us not forget to ‘weep with those who weep’ (Romans 12:15). Let us not forget Hannah and all her sisters.” (Glimpses of Glory, Carol M. Bechtel, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Kentucky, 1998, pages 87, 89)

Hannah saw the birth of Samuel as a gift of God’s grace. As such her vow to dedicate her future child to God’s service becomes the foundation for the future of Israel.

While others may despair over the future, Hannah rejoices and is filled with faith and hope, not only for herself but for the whole of Israel. (1 Samuel 2:1-10) Hannah’s joy is not simply for her son but for the God who has heard her prayer. Whatever faith and hope she may have in the future comes from her relationship with God.

Josh Rittenberg attended Columbia Grammar and Preparatory School in Manhattan where he played baseball and guitar and sang tenor in an a cappella group. His essay, “Tomorrow Will Be a Better Day” was featured in the series “This I Believe” on National Public Radio.

Josh wrote: “I’m sixteen. The other night, while I was busy thinking about important social issues, like what to do over the weekend and who to do it with, I overheard my parents talking about my future. My dad was upset – not the usual stuff that he and mom and, I guess, a lot of parents worry about, like which college I’m going to, how far away it is from home, and how much it’s going to cost. Instead, he was upset about the world his generation is turning over to mine, a world he fears has a dark and difficult future – if it has a future at all.”

“He sounded like this: ‘There will be a pandemic that kills millions, a devastating energy crisis, a horrible worldwide depression, and a nuclear explosion set off in anger.’ As I lay on the living room couch, eavesdropping on their conversation, starting to worry about the future my father was describing, I found myself looking at some old family photos.”

“There was a picture of my grandfather in his Citadel uniform. He was a member of the class of 1942, the war class. Next to his picture were photos of my great-grandparents, Ellis Island immigrants. Seeing those pictures made me feel a lot better.”

“I believe tomorrow will be better than today – that the world my generation grows into is going to get better, not worse. Those pictures help me understand why.”

“I considered some of the awful things my grandparents and great-grandparents had seen in their lifetimes: two world wars, killer flu, segregation, a nuclear bomb. But they saw other things, too, better things: the end of two world wars, the polio vaccine, passage of the civil rights laws. They even saw the Red Sox win the World Series – twice.”

“I believe that my generation will see better things too – that we will witness the time when AIDS is cured and cancer is defeated; when the Middle East will find peace and Africa grain, and the Cubs win the World Series, probably, only once. I will see things as inconceivable to me today as a moon shot was to my grandfather when he was sixteen, or the Internet to my father when he was sixteen.”

“Ever since I was a little kid, whenever I’ve had a lousy day, my dad would put his arm around me and promise me that ‘tomorrow will be a better day.’ I challenged my father once: ‘How do you know that?’ He said, ‘I just do.’ I believed him. My great-grandparents believed that, and my grandparents, and so do I.”

“As I listened to my dad talking that night, so worried about what the future holds for me and my generation, I wanted to put my arm around him and tell him what he always told me, ‘Don’t worry, dad. Tomorrow will be a better day.’ This I believe.” (This I Believe: The Personal Philosophies of Remarkable Men and Women, Jay Allison & Dan Gediman, Editors, Henry Holt & Company, New York, 2006, pages 194-196)

Josh views the future in philosophical terms. Whatever faith and hope he may have in the future comes from those who have been a part of his own family. They include his great-grandparents, grandparents and father.

We may be tempted to conclude that Hannah’s theological point of view and Josh’s philosophical point of view are anathema to each other, that they hold nothing in common. We may be inclined to say that Josh’s optimism in the future is due to his naiveté.

But if we understand that “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not see.” (Hebrews 11:1) then it would seem that there are lessons to be learned from both Hannah and Josh. Samuel was a gift to Hannah in the same way that Josh was a gift to his parents, in the same way that Christopher was a gift to Peter and Sara.

As we move closer to the beginning of Advent, we will find ourselves anticipating the birth of another longed-for child. He too will be a gift of God’s grace and the hope and promise of a better future. Amen.

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