Wednesday, October 19, 2011

A Case For Regifting

“A Case For Regifting”
 I Samuel 1:1-20
 November 15, 2009                                                                                                           

“He had two wives.  The first was Hannah; the second was Peninnah.  Peninnah had children; Hannah did not.”

Herein lies the plot of the unfolding drama of this passage.  In this brief statement is buried powerful significance which is crucial for capturing the impact of the story.  In the day in which they lived barreness was beyond a curse.  It was to be vulnerable and destitute, without the sole system of support, which was family.  It was to have no future because there were no decendents through whom your life would continue.  Barreness and those who were barren were despised, rejected, stigmatized and ostracized.  The dominant social expectation set a context in which the barren woman was a worthless shame. 

And to add the ultimate shame, barreness was deemed to be the act and judgment of God.  Society had painted and created a God who was an extension of their own fears and misconceptions.  Happily, we have moved beyond that kind of theology…or have we?  While we would look at the practice of polygamy, which is also an element of the passage, with utter disdain the same archaic and hurtful perspective of childlessness may be echoing in the ears of the childless and those who see them. If not regarding the issue of childlessness, we certainly fall into the vulnerable trap of creating a God whose inclusiveness, respect and dignity of people is based upon our comfort zones and beliefs.  As we interpret and make application of this passage let it be clear that the attitudes and practices within the passage are not to be condoned.  Let us also be careful to not perpetuate these values or values which mirror the same age old and destructive attitudes.

It was not merely some outside social judgment that Hannah had to deal with.  It was taunting from “rival” wife.  The one who could out bear and out produce her.  A constant presence and reminder of her limitation.  It was not just her society and Hannah’s “rival” that brought pain.  While it certainly seems that Elkanah responded to Hannah in tenderness and understanding, think about it.  Here is Elkanah, telling Hannah not to feel the way she does, minimizing her pain, patronizing her; while he, himself, would not stand for the shame of having a barren wife—So, utilizing the power society granted him as a male, and in response to Hannah’s barreness, he took a second wife—unwilling to bear the shame that he told Hannah not to worry about.  Then there was Eli, the priest—intercessor for God.  He saw Hannah’s pain but didn’t even recognize it.  You see, he was more concerned about decorum of worship than the pain of the worshiper.  He failed to understand that when it comes to prayer, a heart without words is to be preferred to words without heart.  And so, the one who had spiritual responsiblity to intercede would politely dismiss her and her pain from the place of worship.

So, here we are.  Looking at yet another passage during our stewardship focus—on stewardship Sunday—which focuses on a character whom the text portrays as destitute, misunderstood. One whom others would silence and keep in the pain of the shadows and margins of society.  All through our stewardship awareness the lectionary has set before us those who are destitute.  A blind beggar—in Bartimaus, who taught us that stewardship is about stepping out of security and into risk.  An immigrant widow—in Ruth, who taught us that stewardship is about loyalty to covenant commitments.  An unnamed, pennyless widow who gave her all and taught us that stewardship is about more than how much you give. And now, yet another woman who had her worth and value stripped from her by social attitude.  Hannah has so very much to teach us about a wide array of life issues.  What does she have to teach us about stewardship?

Notice Hannah’s response to the position in which she found herself.  She, I am sure, had done all that she could to alleviate the issue of her barreness on her own. All efforts to produce, to escape her stigmatism and the condemning eyes that looked down on her had failed.  She would not, however, remain a victim and powerless.  She would not be content to sit in her pain.  But, how could she hope to be delivered and set free?  She would pray to God.  She would ask for a son.  She had hope that divine intervention would set right the wrongs she suffered and the wrongs of her world.

But she would go beyond focusing on her own need.  She would do more than beseech God.  She would, and did, enter a collaborative relationship with God.  She not only asked God to give but she wanted to get in on the act of giving.  Yet, she had nothing to give.  She would regift what would be given to her.  Think of it, what she had longed for so desperately, what she needed to remove her pain, what she needed to find respect and a place in society—would not be clung to.  She pledged to give back to God what was given to her.  What is the point of getting if you are going to give it away?

Hannah either knew or stumbled onto the key of healing for her pain by becoming involved in a collaborative of giving with God.  I cannot fully explain the dynamic of how giving or thankfulness are healing any more than I can explain so many other kingdom principles.  Yet, I  have seen it and know it to be true. Stewardship, regifting what God gives to us, rather than grasping it for ourselves, is healing and brings release to our pain.

Hannah brought healing not only to herself but began to have an impact on the darkness of mind and heart of the world in which she lived.  It was an era which is described as a time when, “there was no king and everyone did what was right in their own eyes.”  Samuel, the son which Hannah bore in result of her vow, would be a pivotal figure in the history of God’s people. He would restore a spiritual awareness to the priesthood and to Israel.  He would anoint first Saul and then David as kings of God’s people. If you look at Hannah’s prayer in the second chapter of First Samuel it is obvious, whether she understood it or not, she was receiving in Samuel a gift that went way beyond addressing her own needs.  Her prayer focused on the poor and the needy, the liberation of all and the fact that justice for one would be justice for all.  In Hannah’s entering into a collaborative of giving with God—when she had nothing to give—a promise to another barren woman moved forward.  About a thousand years before Hannah’s prayer went up, God promised a son to Sarah to establish the people of promise.  About a thousand years after Hannah’s prayer went up to God, another divinely appointed birth story would told.  This time the woman’s name would be Mary.  She, too, would pray in the same spirit as Hannah, for the poor and needy, for the liberation and justice of God to come through the son she would bear.  And there stood Hannah.  Right in the middle.  Destitute.  But willing to enter a collaborative of giving with God.  It brought healing to her own pain. It also brought light and hope to the people around her. 

What difference does stewardship make?  Why would we regift the very things which promise us status and security?  What may happen if we are but willing to enter a collaborative of regifting with God?  Ask Hannah.





   

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