SERMON--Hannah's Prayer: Shame, Vulnerability, and Connection
Today’s Old Testament lesson introduces us to a world of complicated relationships. There is the relationship between Hannah, the main character of the story, to her husband: Elkanah. There’s also the relationship between Elkanah and one of his other wives, Peninnah. There’s the relationship between Hannah and Peninnah, and the pastoral relationship between Hannah and the priest Eli.
Hannah is barren in a cultural world that seems to think a woman’s only offering is the fruit of her womb, while Elkanah’s other wife has given him children. Scholars believe Hannah was the first wife, and that when she was found to be barren, Elkanah sought out Peninnah so that he might have heirs.
In this part of the story of Hannah, we are introduced to a reality in her life that would seem to lead her into the desperate prayer we hear later: that reality is her shame. We are told that Peninnah shames and irritates her, because she is barren, to the point that Hannah wept and would not eat. When she finally brings herself to God in fervent prayer, the priest Eli shames her by assuming her actions to be that of a drunkard rather than a faithful woman.
Recently I have been immersed in the world of books and lectures by Brené Brown. Brené Brown is a research professor at the University of Houston Graduate College of Social Work. She has spent the past ten years studying vulnerability, courage, authenticity, and shame. She became famous through a talk she did in Houston on vulnerability, and she spoke at this year’s Diocese of Texas clergy conference.
She might say she teaches, I would say she preaches, about shame, vulnerability, and connection. She writes, “There are a couple of very helpful ways to think about shame. First, shame is the fear of disconnection. We are psychologically, emotionally, cognitively, and spiritually hardwired for connection, love, and belonging. Connection, along with love and belonging is why we are here, and it is what gives purpose and meaning to our lives. Shame is the fear of disconnection - it’s the fear that something we’ve done or failed to do, an ideal that we’ve not lived up to, or a goal that we’ve not accomplished makes us unworthy of connection.”
Think, if you will, of shame under this definition, and how it may be present in the life of Hannah. She fears she is disconnected from her husband, because she is barren. She is disconnected from his other wife, as Peninnah offends and taunts her. She is disconnected from the priest Eli, as he recognizes her most heartfelt prayer as a drunken stupor. If there is any connection, it is connection to God.
Brene continues, "In shame-prone cultures, where parents, leaders, and administrators consciously or unconsciously encourage people to connect their self-worth to what they produce, I see disengagement, blame, gossip, stagnation, favoritism, and a total death of creativity and innovation.” If we’re looking at the life of Hannah, I think it is fair to assume that her barrenness and her self-worth may be intertwined, as she finds herself unable to produce the one thing her society seems to think she can make of worth: a child. This dynamic in her home life is certainly apparent, as Peninnah lords her fertile womb over Hannah. This also changes her home life as her husband seems to struggle to understand her depression, saying “Hannah, why do you weep? Why do you not eat? Why is your heart sad? Am I not more to you than ten sons?”
According to Brene, there is, however, a secret weapon in light of shame: and that is vulnerability. Brene writes, “Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path. Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage.”
Hannah overcomes her shame through the vulnerability that she shows in her heartfelt vow to God. “O Lord of hosts, if only you will look on the misery of your servant, and remember me, and not forget your servant, but will give to your servant a male child, then I will set him before you as a nazirite until the day of his death.” A nazirite was a man fully and completely devoted to the Lord. In essence, Hannah prays: if you would but give me a son, I vow to give him back.
Brene says that, “Trust is a product of vulnerability that grows over time and requires work, attention, and full engagement.” Hannah certainly trusts God, and shows in her turning to God the attention and engagement with which she approaches the Lord. While she may fear disconnection and disengagement in her relationships with other people, she vows not only to set her son as a nazirite before the Lord, but through her faithfulness to essentially set herself as a nazirite before the Lord in a spiritual sense. She seems to say, Lord give me a son, and I will give him back, and in all of this I will give myself and be vulnerable to your word and will.
Also, another startling reality is her confidence in how she reacts to the priest, Eli. Eli approaches her full of assumptions and says, “How long will you make a drunken spectacle of yourself? Put away your wine.” And Hannah, at the lowest place of society and unable to offer what her culture may call her only sense of worth says something profound. She says “No.” She says “No, let me tell you the truth.” Brene talks in her lecture about courage, and how it comes from the root word cour which means “heart.” She defines courage as telling the story of who you are with your whole heart.
Hannah stops Eli and says: “Let me tell you the story of who I am with my whole heart. I am courageous. I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but I have been pouring out my soul before the Lord. Do not regard your servant as a worthless woman, for I have been speaking out of my great anxiety and vexation all this time. Do not regard your servant as a worthless woman. Do not shame me. I have entered this temple in a moment of holy vulnerability, to lay myself bare to the God that already knows who I am when I am laid bare. I have entered this temple in a moment of holy vulnerability to connect with God and to hear from God the story of who I am, with my whole heart.”
There is another secret weapon in light of shame: and that is naming it. Brene writes that “Shame derives its power from being unspeakable..... If we cultivate enough awareness about shame to name it and speak to it, we’ve basically cut it off at the knees. Shame hates having words wrapped around it. If we speak to shame, it begins to wither.” Hannah speaking to shame has this effect. She enters the temple and prays to God. She names her shame. She leaves the temple with a vacant womb: still struggling with that reality, YET her countenance has changed. “Then the woman went to her quarters, ate and drank with her husband, and her countenance was sad no longer."
Her vulnerable act of prayer to God has named her shame and reconnected her with her husband, and changed her self-worth. I am led to believe that even if she had never conceived, her heart still would have been lightened and her self-worth restored through the act of naming shame and taking it to God in that moment of holy vulnerability. I’m not naïve enough to believe that she prayed one prayer and poof—her sadness and shame was gone. I hope you don’t hear me saying that. What I mean to say is that shame is the fear of disconnection—and that her naming of shame and her vulnerability offered connection to herself, her husband, and God.
I believe that we, as a people of the Lord, are called to offer ourselves to God in moments of holy vulnerability.
I believe that we are called to recognize that God asks us to show compassion to creation, and that we are part of that creation and must show compassion to ourselves.
I believe that we are called to offer empathy to other people as they battle with shame, knowing that in doing so we love God through loving our neighbor.
I believe that we are called to honor other people such that we do not perpetuate the cycles of shame in our world that drive others to despair.
I believe that we are called to share with the world the story of who we are, with our whole heart.
I ask this all for the glory of God: Father, son, and holy spirit – who has brought us from barrenness to new life. Amen.