Season 5 - Episode 7
To listen to an audio version of this post, visit www.covenantchurch.ca/podcasts/covenant-weekly.
I’m really grateful for Glenn speaking on Sunday. At Covenant, we are so blessed to have several speakers whose different voices help us consider the text of ancient scripture and how it intersects with our contemporary lives. A historic Anabaptist value is to be led by many voices within the community, not just one. Sharing the preaching is just one way we do that, and I don’t take for granted how blessed we are to hear from different perspectives! Today, rather than reflecting on the text Glenn preached from on Sunday, I want to go to two chapters before the story he read on Sunday and consider how Samuel came to be living in or around the Tabernacle, Israel’s place of worship, among the priests. Let’s consider briefly that on this Covenant Weekly for October 14, 2025.
Samuel’s story begins by talking about his father, Elkanah, and his father’s two wives, Peninnah and Hannah. We’re told at the beginning of the story that “Peninnah had children, but Hannah had none.” Being childless was a source of shame for Hannah and a cause for mockery. Peninnah would relentlessly torment Hannah over her barrenness. It intensified every year when the family made the trip to Shiloh, where the tabernacle was, for their sacrifices. After the sacrifice, the meat would be eaten by the community, and Elkanah would give Hannah a double portion of the feast to try to make up for her struggle. But that put greater division between the women, and Peninnah would pester and bother Hannah over her lack of a child.
One year, in a wave of tears, Hannah went to a part of the Tabernacle and prayed. She said, “Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his life, and no razor will ever be used on his head.” But as she spoke, she was so distraught that no words were audible. She was such a mess that she looked to the priest like she was drunk, so he went to reprimand her. She told him about her anguish, and he told her, “Go in peace, and may the God of Israel grant you what you have asked of him.”
Sure enough, she became pregnant, and Samuel was born. But remember her vow to God? She’d said that if she had a son that she would, “give him to the Lord for all the days of his life…” So what would she do now that she had this son? You already know, because the story Glenn read had Samuel living with Eli, that he doesn’t spend his life at home.
After he was born, Hannah didn’t join the annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem for a time. She kept Samuel at home, “until he was weaned.” We don’t know for sure how long that was. But after he was weaned, she took him, along with very special sacrifices, and went to the Tabernacle, where she gave the boy to Eli to serve God, starting at the Tabernacle, for the rest of his life.
As a 21st-century parent, I think this idea of leaving your kid in a setting like this is crazy. I don’t understand it. But she made a vow to do it, which I also think was kind of crazy! But there is something beautiful about recognizing that every good gift is from God (as James 1 so succinctly put it) and holding those gifts loosely.
It has got me thinking about how easy it is to hold tightly to things that maybe I need to do a better job of entrusting to God. How often do we make plans and hold tightly to them when we should maybe hold them with open hands? Or do we fight to maintain control of situations, people, or contexts when we should acknowledge our limits, release others, or share responsibility?
At my stage of life, I’m wrestling with that as kids become more independent and parents become more dependent. It is hard to know the right way to handle things. My natural tendency is to grab onto things and hold them tightly. And maybe it's because I genuinely think I know best. Or maybe I feel more comfortable having a sense of control–even if that sense is a false one.
I’m uncomfortable with Hannah leaving her young child with the priest–especially this priest, whose own sons were notoriously bad. But I’m challenged by her trust. She trusted enough to come to God with her agony. And trust enough to come back and release her son to God’s care. In the story, she came back every year with a new coat for him. She still loved him and, in some ways, cared for him. She didn’t abdicate all involvement by trusting him to God. But she released control. She trusted. And God was faithful to her, as she had five other children. And God was faithful to Samuel.
What am I (what are you) being invited to trust to God and to divine faithfulness at this point in my (your) life?