I Samuel 1:3-18 tells of Hannah, an early victim of bullying. Her rival, Peninnah has many children and severely ridicules Hannah for being unable to conceive. In Facebook terms, not only does Peninnah post daily updates about her amazing children, but also tags Hannah in each post. She seems to take as much pleasure in Hannah’s despair as she takes in the comfort of her children.
Hannah breaks. She has heard enough of the words, has seen more than her fill of Peninnah’s smug grin and has felt enough of that condescending elitism. Even the genuine love from her husband does not comfort her.
During this trying time, Hannah shows her character in subtle, but impactful, ways. First, she shows her reliance on God.
Unable to take any more, Hannah goes to the temple courtyard and prays in agony. She goes so far as bargaining with God. “If you will give your maidservant a male child, I will give him to the Lord all the days of his life…” Her prayer is silent, but she is not still. Her body and face move in her anguish. Indeed, her mouth opens and closes, forming words that never come out. She is despondent. But she shows her unwavering humility to and respect for God.
Shortly after this, we see her second example of keeping her character intact while her integrity is under attack.
Eli, the priest, takes notice of Hannah desperately mouthing words and understandably concludes that she isn’t right. He assumes she is drunk. He dutifully seeks to rid his courtyard of drunken hooligans and crazy ladies running around distracting the focus from God. He says something along the lines of, “Ma’am, it’s time to stop drinking. You’ve had enough and drunkenness is inappropriate here.”
Hannah’s character shines here. Imagine the myriad ways she can defend herself – “I’m not drunk you assumptive something-or-other.” “I haven’t even had a drop, so why don’t you mind your own business?” “Nice. You should be here to help your people and all you can do is jump to conclusions from your ivory tower… I have a suggestion of where you can jump…” She is so far past the breaking point that Satan surely scrolls all those responses in front of her nose. But Hannah’s character transcends her wounds. She responds in humility instead of pride. She softly corrects the priest’s misperception, “No, my lord, I am a woman of sorrowful spirit. I have drunk neither wine nor intoxicating drink but have poured out my soul before the Lord. Please do not consider your maidservant a wicked woman.”
Personalize this story for a minute. Your spouse loves you deeply but is botching the expression of that love … giving you choice food when you really are not hungry. Your rival is living the rock star life you’ve always craved and is daily blowing up social media with obnoxious humble brags. You have no discernible hope of getting to your dreams and cannot escape the condescension and taunting from the horribly successful people. Your trusted friend misreads the situation and attempts to give a logical solution for a problem you don’t have… blaming your misery on drunkenness of wine instead of the drunkenness of despondency. There is no person on earth who can comfort you. You have a flu-like ache that should go away with time but never does. Your breaking point is three exits back.
You are simply asking from your core that God help you. So deeply you want God to hear you, you scream out so loud that words evaporate before leaving your mouth. And now the priest, your trusted friend, is accusing you of drunkenness?!
Why did Hannah respond so calmly? How was her character so deep? How did it remain intact while she was under attack? Perhaps it was one of the following reasons.
First, she was praying to the Lord for relief instead of praying to others for attention. Had she been there for attention, her reaction would have been drastically different when the attention she sought (sympathy) was replaced by attention of accusation and judgment. If what she sought was a hug from the priest, she would have responded angrily when he thought she was drunk.
Second, her sorrow was authentic. Being accused of drunkenness was nothing compared to the true sorrow of her core. If her desire to have children was fueled by her desire to impress others, being accused of drunkenness would have become the momentary judgment that would have masked her deeper issue. Her desire through children was to honor God, not to be accepted by others. Because her sorrow was not self-serving, her character remained intact when her integrity was being attacked.
Third, she named the real enemy and did not confuse Eli with the true source of healing. Had she been seeking healing from Eli or attention from others in the courtyard, her devastation would have been compounded by embarrassment based upon their perception that she was acting like a drunk. That compounded devastation would have shot like a rocket of anger and shame. Instead, she humbly and peacefully corrected Eli’s misperception without enflaming her right to justice, and without berating Eli for his flawed perception.
We can learn from our character when under attack by gauging both our negative emotions and their manifestations. When we feel embarrassed and respond hatefully when people misinterpret our motives, we often learn that our motives truly include seeking approval from those who were displeased. When we feel threatened and respond sarcastically or condescendingly to those who disagree with us, we realize that our motives truly include wanting others to perceive us as having a particular power. When we are fearful and remain silent in the face of true injustice (as opposed to perceived injustice), we realize that our motives truly include being approved of and accepted by others instead of seeking justice.
When our motives are genuinely and authentically pure, for a greater good, then we tend to kindly and humbly respond to naysayers who try to knock us off track. We gel with Hannah’s rock-solid spirit, even when our spirit, like hers, could be easily broken.
The end of Hannah’s story, of course, was the beginning. Eli ultimately blesses her, seeing her devastation for what it is. Hannah then delivers her firstborn, Samuel, to the priest and has five more children that the Lord allowed to remain with her.
Bene-action: We all have motives that are pure and impure. We know this because we are a flawed species. Invest five minutes, which can feel like an eternity, this week in reflecting upon your most recent negative emotions and their manifestations. What was the flawed motivation behind them and what does God want you to know about it today?
Common Sensitivity 