SERMON ON 1 SAMUEL 1 4-20, FR. LANCE SCHMITZ, ST. AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY EPISCOPAL CHURCH, OKLAHOMA CITY, OKLAHOMA

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of each of our hearts be acceptable in thy sight O God our strength, our redeemer, and our one and only peace.  AMEN




Our Old Testament  reading today is a character study for folks who just don’t get it.


Every year Elkanah, Penniah, Hannah and the family go on a journey to make the appointed sacrifices and, like every family trip I’ve been on,  there is drama.


Elkanah has two wives(which I’m sure always leads to weirdness), one who has, in the words of scripture, given her husband children and rubs this fact in the face of the other wife mocking her barrenness every chance she gets. (Real helpful behavior)


Elkanah dotes on both of his wives but he makes sure Hannah, the one who has not been able to have children, gets more food because he wants to show his love.


Hannah is despondent because of her station in life and her husband fails miserably at consolation(which a lot of folks do) and turns the conversation back to him, 


 “Oh, Hannah, why are you crying? Why aren’t you eating? And why are you so upset? Am I not of more worth to you than ten sons?”  


This is a Grade A example of a man knowing exactly what a woman doesn’t want/need to hear.


Hannah was probably just tired of dealing with all these people(something we can all sympathize with at times) pushes her feelings inside, finishes her food and sneaks away to the temple to pray.


This is where we meet Old Eli the priest, sitting in his chair as old men are wont to do.  
He spies Hannah from afar and decides this lady is drunk and he needs to tell her to leave.


Hannah comes back at him with a hopefully a bit of sass, and I love this,  
“I'm a brokenhearted woman. I haven’t been drinking. 
I’m here full of tears and crying out to God. 
 Don’t you dare think for a minute I’m a bad woman. 
It’s because I’m so desperately unhappy and in such pain that I’ve been here so long.”


Eli is taken aback, and I hope he feels a bit ashamed of his assumptions, and basically says to her “Go in peace and may God give you what you want.”


Hannah left changed, Hannah left transformed this interaction even with all it’s stumbles/hiccups/ left her with hope.  It was in due time she was blessed with her child Samuel.
 
So many people in this story either made assumptions, or turned the story in towards themselves, or just decided to be flat out mean towards the one who was hurting. 
Plenty of failure to go around.


Hannah was in pain, and no one was really helping until Eli came near to scold but ended up listening to Hannah’s hurt. 


His posture changed from judgment to listening/hearing and ended up  transforming a situation.


Let’s be transparent/honest here, it’s hard/dangerous/frightening to enter into someone else’s hurts/pains.
It is scary territory because it reminds us of our vulnerability and truthfully who likes that? 
We all like to think we are strong, independent, and need no one else.  


There is a cultural addiction to acting like we’ve got it all together or that we are captains of our own fate.


Our culture (explicitly and implicitly) idolizes being busy, self sufficiency, production, and toughness probably due in large part to our fear of people seeing us as weak. 
That running around wears folks down and rewards them with  exhaustion.


We set ourselves up to judge and fear people’s brokenness when they show even the slightest bit of vulnerability or dare reveal any hurt; more often than not because it scares us to be confronted with a reminder of life’s fragility and our own.


I don’t think this apprehension is new, getting hurt is one the universal human concerns, because it exposes the unwelcome frailties we have that we don’t want anyone to know about.


Here’s the truth though, every single person here in this room has wounds, each one of us gathered here today has hurts that only they know about and some are terrified that others might find out about them.


We each and all have been hurt by someone or something and we hold that pain close and it determines how we see and act towards others and invariably what we think about ourselves.  


Our hurts, our pains, our wounds aren't unique, we each and all have them.  


You aren’t the only person that hurts.
I say that not to diminish your pain, not at all, but to let you know that you're are not alone.


Here lies a troubling disconnect though; Christians for almost 2,000 years have gathered to worship one who has shown us that it is okay to be vulnerable, that it is normal to be scared, that it is alright to be clear about what we need.


Jesus our savior, our Lord, and our friend lived all of these things and it was put in our scriptures; and yet we are scared to do the same.


We are fine to worship that person but we dare not practice that kind of vulnerability, it terrifies us.


BUT WHAT IF WE DID? BUT WHAT IF WE DID?


We could have a change of heart like Eli and speak hope into others lives, our transformed hearts could shine light into so many forgotten places.


If we learned to listen like Eli(hopefully without the chastising of someone we misunderstood), love like Jesus(despite our own biases), and be willing to share a bit of our pain(requiring us to go against the grain of acceptable wisdom), so many lives might be transformed; including our own. 


If we cried out to God and told our story like Hannah we might find some healing and our willingness to be vulnerable would be a help to others.


The world would be made better because we would show up and be okay with not being okay.  


Shining some light on our own wounds and sharing our light with others could be all the light they need to see some healing that they thought would never come.


We come here to worship the all powerful God of the universe who, let us never ever forget this, became fragile flesh to show us a new way of being in the world.


Everyone you meet is struggling with something, everyone, and to them it is huge.


When we listen and hear others, we enter into their life with all of its struggles and joy and we become a healing pathway of Christian hope for someone who may have lost it. 


Is this an easy way of life?  Nope not at all, people are messy and unpredictable and oftentimes really really difficult.


It is worth it?  Oh my yes it is, for we have the opportunity to be grace for others who are hurting and be for them the embodied love of God and that makes all the difference in the world. 


When we practice living with and for others our hearts are strangely warmed and our capacity of care grows.


The more we practice being with people in their hurt, the better we will get at it, the better we get at listening and understanding the more our love for self, others, and God will grow.  


Y’all we are given the unique powerful opportunity to practice here with one another in community, if we are willing,  to be the kind of people the world and God needs us to be out there.  


The church ought to be that place where you don’t have to hide your hurts and everyone wants you to succeed and when you fail they are there to pick you up and walk with you towards healing. 


We don’t need perfect people, because nary one of us has it all together, but rather folks like Hannah who are willing to be real/honest/vocal with their struggles.


The world won’t/can’t be healed by perfect churches/people, but by everyday folks embodying as best they can the perfect love of God for everyone as revealed through the life, death, resurrection of Jesus Christ.


Following Jesus and claiming him as Lord is a public confession that yeah we are not okay and we need help, and that is beautiful and honest and healing. 


We’ve a calling, we’ve an invitation; it’s up to you if you take it.


I hope you do.  AMEN 

Sermon by Fr. Lance A. Schmitz, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma​