For God – sermon on November 15, 2015
Samuel 1: 1-20 There was a man named Elkanah who lived in Ramah in the hill country of Ephraim. Elkanah had two wives, Hannah and Peninnah. Peninnah had children, but Hannah did not. Each year Elkanah would travel to Shiloh to worship and sacrifice to the Lord of Heaven’s Armies at the Tabernacle. The priests of the Lord at that time were the two sons of Eli—Hophni and Phinehas. On the days Elkanah presented his sacrifice, he would give portions of the meat to Peninnah and each of her children. And though he loved Hannah, he would give her only one choice portion because God had given her no children. So Peninnah would taunt Hannah and make fun of her because God had kept her from having children. Year after year it was the same—Peninnah would taunt Hannah as they went to the Tabernacle. Each time, Hannah would be reduced to tears and would not even eat. “Why are you crying, Hannah?” Elkanah would ask. “Why aren’t you eating? Why be downhearted just because you have no children? You have me— isn’t that better than having ten sons?”
Once, after a sacrificial meal at Shiloh, Hannah got up and went to pray. Eli the priest was sitting at his customary place beside the entrance of the Tabernacle. Hannah was in deep anguish, crying bitterly as she prayed to God. And she made this vow: “O God, if you will look upon my sorrow and answer my prayer and give me a son, then I will give him back to you. He will be yours for his entire lifetime, and as a sign that he has been dedicated to God, his hair will never be cut.”
As she was praying to God, Eli watched her. Seeing her lips moving but hearing no sound, he thought she had been drinking. “Must you come here drunk?” he demanded. “Throw away your wine!” “Oh no, sir!” she replied. “I haven’t been drinking wine or anything stronger. But I am very discouraged, and I was pouring out my heart to God. Don’t think I am a wicked woman! For I have been praying out of great anguish and sorrow.” “In that case,” Eli said, “go in peace! May the God of Israel grant the request you have asked.” “Oh, thank you, sir!” she exclaimed. Then she went back and began to eat again, and she was no longer sad. The entire family got up early the next morning and went to worship God once more. Then they returned home to Ramah. When Elkanah slept with Hannah, God remembered her plea, and in due time she gave birth to a son. She named him Samuel, for she said, “I asked God for him.”
Sermon: For God by Reverend Doreen Oughton
I have another reading I would like to share with you. It is a reflection of one of the Still Speaking writers, Rev. Quinn Caldwell, based on a brief passage from the book of Job. He calls the reflection Justify. First, the passage from Job, ch. 32: “So these three men ceased to answer Job, because he was righteous in his own eyes. Then Elihu of the family of Ram, became angry. He was angry at Job because he justified himself rather than God…” Rev. Caldwell says: They call it l’esprit de l’escalier. It’s French for “the spirit of the stairs,” or more to the point, “the stair wit.” It’s the perfect retort that comes to you too late—when you’re on the stairs leaving the party. My brain tends to take a little longer to warm up, and so I have l’esprit de la salle de bain, the spirit of the bathroom. My esprit usually kicks in the next morning, standing at the bathroom sink. And when it does, watch out. My tongue is as sharp as the Mach 3 in my hand, my wit as bubbly as the toothpaste that rimes my lips as I declaim.
Telemarketers weep openly and change their ways. Rude people examine their motives. The girl who said that thing to me in sixth grade calls up to apologize. Siblings admit I’m right. People everywhere are so stunned by my verbal hammerstrokes that they do not even notice the dental floss between my teeth. I am victorious. I am……Job.
Few people in the Bible are more eloquent or, frankly, more right in what they’re saying. But here’s what Elihu points out: all Job’s powerful speeches? Every one of them is about him. Every one of them is designed to justify himself, to prove himself to the people around him. Not one of them is spoken to justify God. Job actually has a good excuse for that, but I do not. So I wonder: what if I spent less time devising brilliant speeches that show the world how awesome and clever I am, and more time devising speeches that show the world how awesome and clever God is? What if I thought of fewer things to say to cut jerky people to the quick, and more things to say that would show them God? It’s a tall order, but I’m going to try to do it. Because as Elihu knows, if all you’re doing is justifying yourself and not God, no matter how witty you are, you’re just spitting toothpaste at the mirror. And then he prays: Holy God, protect me from l’esprit de l’escalier. Send your Holy Spirit instead, and fill me up with words to turn the world to you. Amen.
Our desires can be so strong sometimes, can’t they? We heard a wonderful, detail-rich story of Hannah and her longing for a child. She is loved by her husband, but taunted by her sister-wife, and consumed with sadness. Perhaps she wasn’t constantly sad, but suffered more on these festival days, when her lack was so apparent. Year after year after year, her one small portion of the sacrificial meal providing no sustenance physically or spiritually, but only reminding her that she is still eating for one. Her husband doesn’t understand her sadness; after all, she still has him, and he loves her.
Now Hannah’s heartsick desire for a child may come from a deeper place than Quinn Caldwell’s wish for the perfect retort at the perfect time, but still this desire is strong enough to stay in his thoughts over night – perhaps causing him to toss and turn in his sleep – replaying the insults, the ignorant comment, the unkindness. He wants others to see how right he is, and how wrong they are. And in this reflection, he sees that he is convicted, convicted along with Job by Elihu. You remember the story of Job, right? We heard parts of it last month. Job was the one that God allowed Satan to harass to make a point. Job’s children were killed, his animals killed, his property burned down, and his body tortured. And Job then challenges God, wants to take God to court, even with God as the judge. Job’s friends argue with him, saying he must have done something wrong and deserved such treatment. Now, in the end, even God says these friends are wrong about Job, and usually the “friends” are criticized for blaming the victim. But here Rev. Caldwell asks us to consider the argument Elihu makes. He is not saying Job did something wrong to deserve his fate, but is angry that Job is so focused on himself, on what HE wants – his answers, his day in court. Why aren’t you justifying God, Elihu wants to know. Isn’t there a way to trust in God, to be open to God’s goodness instead of seeing this as an unwarranted attack as Job sees it, or as punishment for wrong-doing as the friends see it?
This question can come into play in all kinds of situations – How can I justify, or even glorify God? It might come to Rev. Caldwell the next time he feels insulted or treated badly. For Hannah, it came even in the depth of her sadness over not having a child. She weeps and prays, and what comes to her is an offer to give up the very thing she is praying for. Can you imagine wanting something so badly, wanting it with everything you’ve got, and then promising to give it up once you got it? I am amazed by this. Now some might say it is just about her ego. Having a child would make her equal to Penninah in the eyes of everyone else. It would make her sister-wife stop taunting her at last. And maybe her motives were a jumble, with this ego-driven thought seeping in along with this aching in her whole body that was pure longing. And so she prayed and checked herself. Maybe, she might have said to herself, or realized in prayer, maybe I want this for some of the wrong reasons, and for some of the right reasons, so how can I bring God into this? How can I forgive and love Penninah and not make my desire a weapon against her? How I can I purify my desire and make sure it is something that will glorify God?
And boy oh boy can I relate to that, that feeling of being unclear about my motives, the jumble of drives and fears and insecurities and egotism that influence what I want and what I do and how I live. I don’t know that I can trust myself to sort through it all and live the life that would bring the most joy to the world and to me. And so how blessed I am to have the wisdom of Hannah, and the wisdom of Elihu, and the example of Jesus, and the promises of God. I can pray, I can ask myself how can my desires be for God? How can what I want and what I do and how I live justify God, glorify God, turn others towards God? And if I can’t identify something, maybe I need to be willing to turn them over or even let them go. Maybe that is a place to start – inviting God in, trusting that God has good planned for us, that whatever comes into our lives, or doesn’t, can provide a means of growing in love for God. May you get the perfect retort at the perfect time and decline to use it, but instead bless God. May you receive your deepest hearts’ desires and hold them loosely and pray they may be of service to our God. May it be so.
