Political Theology Matters

Let Go and Let God

After laying bare her soul before God, Hannah relaxed; she “let go and let God” do the heavy lifting. Her lament, her praise, and worship at the temple restored her. She Interpreted her world with a new vision. Hannah rose to meet her challenges and satisfy her expectations. 

Delivered by the Rev. Dr. Marcia Ledford at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Cross-Novi, MI
November 14, 2021

The Prophet Daniel was in the hot seat, and so were his people. Things were not going to plan. Everything felt upside down for them as the Seleucids of Damascus sorely oppressed them. They were not allowed to own a Torah, or worship, or circumcise their sons. The survival of their faith stood at odds with the regime that controlled them. 

Likewise, things in Hannah’s world were not going to plan. She was dejected, harassed, misunderstood, and on top of all of that, she was expected to be happy with her lot in life. Hannah was upset with her plight, with Peninnah, her husband Elkanah’s other wife who gave her a hard time for being childless. Elkanah, apparently, failed to tell Peninnah to shut up and stop harassing Hannah. 

In the time of Hannah, things were not going well for Israel either. The nation needed an earthly leader because Israel was rudderless and stagnant, and was having an identity crisis.

So, during their annual trek to the temple, Hannah leaves the party and goes to pray to God about her situation. In a patriarchal society such as in Hannah’s time, her worth and sense of usefulness suffered greatly by not being able to bear children — sons particularly — and the only one who seemed to get it was Peninnah, and she was being a real jerk.

We’re told in this passage that Hannah “rose” to go to the house of the Lord. I heard a priest once say that if he had a daughter, he’d name her “Hannah Rose.” It’s a double entendre on “Hannah rose,” as she took direct action to speak with God in sacred space. Hannah Rose is one whose faith is in full flower. 

As Hannah silently speaks, the priest, Eli, mistakes her to be drunk. Perhaps it’s been a while since he’s seen a devout believer in deep prayer, heartfelt prayer, one who clearly relies on God to sort things out. I wonder what Eli’s experience with his congregation had been. Eli is pretty cynical in believing that Hannah has shown up to the house of the Lord, drunk, disorderly, and dishonorable. Eli draws an unfortunate conclusion about Hannah.

In fact, Hannah has a mystical experience, a genuine conversation from deep in her heart. She doesn’t go to anyone else for help. Hannah turns to God alone to lament and to ask for what she needs. She doesn’t even explain her concerns to Eli. And while Eli blesses Hannah, it is perfunctory at best. He misses the boat altogether.

When Hannah leaves the temple, her attitude is better. She has drinks and has dinner with her husband, and they are intimate; Hannah conceives Samuel. 

After laying bare her soul before God, Hannah relaxed; she “let go and let God” do the heavy lifting. Her lament, her praise, and worship at the temple restored her. She Interpreted her world with a new vision. Hannah rose to meet her challenges and satisfy her expectations. 

When the Gospel of Mark was written, again, things were going very badly for Israel. We think Mark was written either just before or just after the temple was destroyed for a second time, about 70 years after the death of Jesus. 

In light of Israel’s plight, the anonymous author Mark understandably opens this gospel with a bang. It’s very unlike the later-written gospels of Matthew and Luke, where we get the birth narratives. They give differing stories about the birth of Jesus with wise men in Matthew, focusing on Joseph and his dreams. Luke provides us with the manger scene with shepherds and angels and Jesus’s dedication and naming in the temple. 

But Mark, our oldest gospel, opens with John the Baptist as he baptizes Jesus. “Immediately” after, Satan tempts Jesus three times. And boom, Jesus starts his ministry. Many sentences in Mark begin or end with the word, “immediately.” You can feel the immediacy in Mark because of the perilous times the Jews and the burgeoning Christian movement suffered. Mark is a Gospel of action. Jesus learns of a problem and addresses the issue with action right away. There is no time to waste.

And Mark closes with a bang. In our text today, we learn that bad stuff is going to happen, and these events serve as the birth pangs of Christ’s new order. Mark may not be a gospel one reads for comfort. It sounds scary, and off-balance, and Mark shows us that following Christ is akin to the road to the cross. Life is difficult, challenging, frightening, and will certainly test our faith, and the times daily test our understanding that God is in charge. 

We finish with the Gospel of Mark today because next week we celebrate the Reign of Christ, and then on First Advent, the 28th, we begin an intense study of the Gospel of Luke. And some of you may be thinking, “Thank goodness, let’s get away from tumultuous Mark and move on to load-bearing Luke, the gospel of social justice.” 

But perhaps today is when we can find comfort in Mark, and in this passage especially. Our time is the perfect time to consider how difficult times repeat, as with Daniel, Hannah, in 70 AD and in our own times. Israel was an occupied nation dominated by Rome. Followers of Jesus had long expected his Second Coming. They were trying to understand, to know what would happen. Life was upside down.

Mark tells us that while things are bad, God leads us as we navigate through them; things come out better on the other side. We must allow our faith to open us to the revelation of God’s new vision. Perhaps this passage should serve in reality as a comfort to us as we realize that bad stuff happens, but God is still in charge, leading us like that pillar of fire over the Israelites crossing the Red Sea.

Things in our world are not going to plan either. We are navigating a pandemic that has changed how we gather and where we worship. COVID has required us to reorder our world. We are divided as a nation, religiously and politically, as I’ve ever seen. We are suspicious, and we worry about our future. We are living in a fractured time, and it feels alarming, like things are upside down.

In a sense, we should be worried about our future, because our present seems out of control. But truthfully, we are never in control even though we think we are or can be. It is God that is in control. Some of us wonder, “Where is God?”

Well, God is here. God is in the midst of us though things seem chaotic, dangerous, and have left us vulnerable and anxious, distrustful and — well, cranky and perhaps panicky.

And so, we can pray and lament. Bringing our lamentations to God is exactly what we can and should do. But as the psalmist writes, we must praise God, who is God, even though things may not be going the way we hope or think that they should. We must know and remember that God is in charge. 

Daniel offered solace and encouragement for his occupied people. Hannah rose to have her prayers answered. Her prayers were answered through the birth pangs she suffered to bring forth her son, Samuel, whom she dedicated to God’s service. Hannah’s prayer and devotion to God set the stage for Samuel, her son, to anoint the first kings of Israel. Her laments and resistance brought her strength, and that is what we must do, pray and act. In doing these things, we may endure the birth pangs of righteousness and truth, so that the Reign of Christ may show forth. 

I offer the following prayer that is thought to have originated in the 1600s in Salisbury, England. I love it because every line begins with God. God anchors every line just as God anchors everything in our lives. It goes like this.

The Sarum Prayer (with my edits — original lines in bold)

God be in my head, and in my understanding.

God be in my eyes, and in my seeing. (I say “recognizing.”)

God be in my ears, and in my listening.

God be in my mouth, and in my speaking.

God be in my heart, and in my thinking.

God be in my hands, and in my working for justice.

God be in my bended knee, and in my humble discerning.

God be in my feet, and in my praying.

God be at my end, and in my departing.

My blog on the Sarum Prayer can be found here:

Here is a great song about having faith and trusting in God from Lauren Daigle. I listen to this song often. I hope it is a source of comfort for you in these difficult times.

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