PRAYING THE HEART OF GOD – by Raphael ben Levi
We have currently entered the 6th month of Elul in the Hebrew calendar that provides a count-down of 40 days until Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. I am reminded of the Haftorah portion for that particular Shabbat, about the woman who taught the world what it means to pray – that one prays not with one’s lips but from one’s heart. It is the story of Hannah the mother of Samuel. I am reminded of Hannah at a time in our history when intercessors are praying on their knees for Godly intervention on behalf of their nation. We see within the Church a diversity of responses to the perilous times we live in. Some people’s hands hang limply, others shake their fists angrily, many are blissfully unaware that anything is amiss, but a few are praying on their knees just like Hannah did.
As the saying goes, “Mans’ extremity is God’s opportunity.” A longing burns deep within the intercessor and that longing will not be extinguished. It is accompanied by a deep anguish released as in the pain of childbirth yet with a strength that defies all evil with the sure hope of redemption and restoration; a hope which tramples underfoot all fear, doubt and anxiety.
“When God sees my pain, perhaps I, too will be given a child, ” thought Hannah and we too believe God will grant us the desires of our heart as we travail in prayer for the things that God has called us to contend with. Yet as with Hannah things sometimes seem to get worse before they get better. There was not a day that Hannah was not confronted with her barrenness but there would come a time, God’s perfect moment, that would change the course of history and so too we trust God for this as concerns our lives.
Each year, Elkana and his family travelled to Shiloh to sacrifice and give thanks in the House of God. It was autumn, they were in Shiloh again. Elkana called his family together to share with them the sacrifice but Hannah took no part in the joyous celebration. Gently, Elkana said to her: “Hannah, why do you cry? Why is your heart saddened today? Does not my love mean more to you than the love of ten children?” Oh people of God, that we might hear those same words enfold us in the midst of our travails from the very heart of the Father!
When everyone had finished the meal, Hannah returned to the House of God, and standing before the Ark she prayed undaunted. For what seemed like an eternity, she stood before the wall, her body shaking and racked with tears, her lips moving but her voice hardly more than a whisper. In those days, prayers and supplications were spoken aloud, and Eli, the high priest, misinterpreted her behaviour. “Woman, are you drunk?” he said in a voice of reprimand. “Go away from here, for it is improper to stand before God in a state of intoxication.” “No,” she answered, “I have poured myself no wine today. It is my heart that I have poured out before God in my anguish.” “Then go in peace,” Eli replied, “and may God grant you your prayer.”
So they returned home. That year, Hannah bore a son, and she named him Samuel, meaning “God hears.” When Samuel was two, she took him with her to Shiloh and presented him to Eli saying, “I am the woman who prayed to God in my sorrow. Beside me is my son, the answer to that prayer. And now may he be given into the service of God for the rest of his life.” And she sang a song of thanks to God, returned home, and Samuel remained with Eli in the House of God. Though she visited him again each year, from that day on he was no longer only hers. She sacrificed her son to God, as Abraham had done before her. She sacrificed him not on an altar of stone, but on the altar of her heart, and her sacrifice was forever. And we know her only as the mother of Samuel the Prophet, the son she gave away.
