That’s my sister’s name, but this is about the Biblical Hannah. She’s most visible in the first chapter of One Samuel, which for me is the start of the narrative high-point of the Bible. Some parts of the Old Testament histories are over-familiar, some are a bit dry, but Samuel, Samual, Kings, Kings are my favourite. It’s fine to have favourite bits of the Bible. True, the book isn’t there to excite and enjoy, but it is so good when you find bits that engage you, where you can relate to the characters, their predicaments and feelings. Children get Children’s Bibles, full of narrative highlights and lively pictures. Grown ups should be able to get a bit of that too. Bible study and Bible pleasure. As they say, history is a list until you zoom in and see the moments, and one of my favourites is Hannah’s prayer.

To set the scene: Israel has spent the past few hundred years alternating between going astray and losing God’s favour, and having a wise prophet, known as a judge, who trusts in God, restores the faith and prospects of the nation, and possibly kills a lot of Philistines. We’re between good priests at the moment, but there’s a good one on the way.

It’s 1 Samuel Chapter 1, up to verse 19

There was a man of Ramah, a Zuphite from the highlands of Ephraim, whose name was Elkanah - the son of Jeroham, the son of Elihu, the son of Tohu, the son of Zuph. He was an Ephraimite, and he had two wives,one called Hannah and the other Peninnah; Peninnah had children, but Hannah had none.

Year after year this man went up from his town to worship and sacrifice to the Lord Almighty at Shiloh, where Hophni and Phinehas, the two sons of Eli, were priests of the Lord. Whenever the day came for Elkanah to sacrifice, he would give portions of the meat to his wife Peninnah and to all her sons and daughters. But to Hannah he gave a double portion because he loved her, and the Lord had closed her womb. Because the Lord had closed Hannah’s womb, her rival kept provoking her in order to irritate her. This went on year after year. Whenever Hannah went up to the house of the Lord, her rival provoked her till she wept and would not eat. Her husband Elkanah would say to her, “Hannah, why are you weeping? Why don’t you eat? Why are you downhearted? Don’t I mean more to you than ten sons?”

Once when they had finished eating and drinking in Shiloh, Hannah stood up. Now Eli the priest was sitting on his chair by the doorpost of the Lord’s house. In her deep anguish Hannah prayed to the Lord, weeping bitterly. And she made a vow, saying, “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.”

As she kept on praying to the Lord, Eli observed her mouth. Hannah was praying in her heart, and her lips were moving but her voice was not heard. Eli thought she was drunk and said to her, “How long will you go on, you drunken creature! Away with you, go and sleep off your drunkenness!”

“Not so, my lord,” Hannah replied, “I am a woman who is deeply troubled. I have not been drinking wine or beer; I was pouring out my soul to the Lord. Do not take your servant for a wicked woman; I have been praying here out of my great anguish and grief.”

Eli answered, “Go in peace, and may the God of Israel grant you what you have asked of him.”

She said, “May your servant find favor in your eyes.” Then she went her way and ate something, and her face was no longer downcast.

What I particularly like about this: she’s weeping, she’s fully upset. She goes to the temple and brings an emotive prayer to God. Not just a polite please, but a weeping prayer, with tears and snot and hefty breathing - and sincerity and conviction and respect, but it is full of heart.

Of course Eli notices it. Eli is the high priest, which is pretty much like being Pope, but even moreso - he is there as the primary telephone between God and humanity at this point, and throughout this book he’s always both rubbish at his job and kinda good at it, usually at the same time. He assumes Hannah is drunk and tries to yeet her from the temple, and when he realises his error he skips the apology and goes straight for a blessing and pretty much promises the child will come.

In any case, Hannah was deeply upset, but she wasn’t in there yelling. She was doing all she could to be as subtle as possible, not to show her upset. She didn’t want the attention of humans, but her passion and pain and intensity got noticed, and in a way that made a difference. I don’t know whether Eli noticing it and giving his blessing clinched it and ensured the child would be born. On some level I’ve never understood the priesthood’s role in the miraculous.

Anyway, after all that, after the weeping and the praying and the confusion, is my favourite bit - Hannah goes back to the celebration, and eats, and smiles and is happy - not because that’s what’s expected, but because she has gone through her sorrow, and given the situation to the Lord, and is free and relieved, and to my mind that’s just as great a blessing as having the prayer answered - though she got that too.

Something else I will say about this passage. It’s all about Hannah, who is childless, but desperately wants to be a mother. It’s a fairly common trope in the Bible, and desiring parenthood meant something different back then to what it does now. Of course, people still earnestly desire to be parents, but back then I think it went beyond the personal. The people of Israel were God’s chosen people, and the number one way that they could grow God’s kingdom was by producing children. The old testament is absolutely chock-full of begetting and bearing. There are about fifty generations of detail. So much sex! In Anno Domini, all that changes. Growing the Kingdom of God in the New Testament normally involves a conversation, telling people the good news, cooking them food and spending time together, and making disciples of all nations. Going by the Bible, for Christians, sex and child-rearing are optional. Hooray!

But Hannah sought to do this, even though she was willing to immediately give the child into God’s service, to be raised as a priest and a prophet. She wanted to bear him and wean him, even if she didn’t keep him. She wanted to be who she could be and do what she could do. And that little boy grew up to Samuel, and if you don’t know who that is it’s fine, but he was amazing, one of the least disappointing people in the Bible, and in his time everything changed. You’ll hear about him again before Lent is out.

But let’s pray more like Hannah. Not public and proud, not hesitant and formal, but with some conviction, some human feeling. Don’t be afraid to go to God full of snot and mid-breakdown. And then go in peace, and may the God of Israel grant you what you have asked of him.