And there was a certain man of Ramathaim-zophim, of mount Ephraim, and his name was Elkanah, the son of Jeroham, the son of Elihu, the son of Tohu, the son of Zuph, an Ephrathite.
The book of Samuel opens with no throne and no battle. It gives us one man from a hill town, his family line back five generations, and a note about where he lived. Everything that follows grows out of this quiet household. Why does the story begin here?
This book picks up where Judges ends. The picture it opens with is grim.
In the opening chapters of the first book of Samuel (1—7) we have one of the darkest periods of Israel's history. The downward movement of the book of Judges went on until the nation was not only evil but desperate. Their sin was so great that God could no longer keep His outward links with Israel. To do so would have meant approving their sin or staining His glory.
The story starts with a man of the priestly tribe, and with the priesthood itself.
Elkanah was a Levite. Eli was the high priest; so we are on the ground of the priesthood. If the priesthood had stayed faithful, there would have been no need to change the way God dealt with His people. So the priesthood had to be proved ruined first, before the true king could enter the scene. God could not stay in relationship with the people through a corrupt priesthood.
The verse calls Elkanah an Ephrathite, yet 1 Chronicles traces his line through Levi. Some call that a contradiction. One writer answers it, and reads the meaning of the names too.
Elkanah means "acquired of God." He was the son of Jeroham (tenderly loved), the son of Elihu (my God is He), the son of Tohu (prostration), the son of Zuph (honeycomb)... Elkanah was an Ephraimite. But from 1 Chronicles 6:20-28 we learn that Samuel and his father were of levitical descent. Some have pointed to this as a discrepancy. But it does not clash at all with the statement that Samuel's father was of Ephraim. He was one of those Levites to whom cities were assigned in the portion given to the tribe of Ephraim (Josh. 21:20).
The town's full name is a longer form of Ramah, where Samuel later lived. One writer finds its parts fitting for the man God was about to raise up.
Elkanah's town is the one that later belonged to Samuel — Ramah, or ha-Ramah, "the height." Here we find it under its full title, Ramathaim-zophim, "the two heights of the watchers." The prophet's place was always that of a watcher. The prophet's face was always turned toward the slowly coming dawn. The "height" fits naturally with that place: those who are in it are, by that very fact, lifted up out of the world.
The same writer reads the genealogy in reverse — from Zuph forward to Elkanah — and finds a path rather than a list.
To be an "observer" in the sphere of responsibility is the beginning of all blessings. Zuph is an Ephrathite, so "fruitful"; and we cannot wonder that his son Tohu speaks of being "low, sunk down" — humiliation. This is always the way of blessing and of the knowledge of the Lord. So the next name is Elihu, "my God" — or my Mighty One — "is He." Moving forward we have Jeroham, "he is tenderly loved." Then we end with Elkanah, whom "God has purchased," or "acquired." How easily a Samuel comes out of such a stock as this!
That Levite line runs back to one of Israel's most notorious rebels.
Samuel was not only of the tribe of Levi. He was of the very family of Korah. God spared Korah's children, in sovereign distinguishing grace, from going down alive into the pit. At that very time Korah, and all the men who belonged to him, and the families of Dathan and Abiram went down into the pit, and the earth closed over them... "But the sons of Korah did not die" (Num. 26:11).
That history explains something one writer notices about how Elkanah came to give his offerings.
A debtor to mercy alone, he had good cause to worship. Others might go up merely to sacrifice, but Elkanah both worshipped and sacrificed. It was no formal or meaningless ceremony with him. He knew what he owed to the Lord's distinguishing grace — not only the blessings of his life, but his very existence as a descendant of one of the spared children of Korah. It is the knowledge, and acknowledgment, of grace that produces worship and obedience in the believer's life.
- Dark: The verse opens one of Israel's darkest times. Judges had slid downward until God could no longer keep His outward links with the nation.
- Levi: The book starts with a Levite, not a king. The ruin of the priesthood had to come out first, before the true king could come.
- Spared: Elkanah's line runs back to Korah, whose children did not die — the family exists only because of grace.
- Grateful: So he both worshipped and sacrificed. Knowing grace is what produces worship and obedience.
- Watching: He lived at "the two heights of the watchers" — the raised, waiting ground out of which a Samuel comes.
And he had two wives the name of the one was Hannah, and the name of the other Peninnah; and Peninnah had children, but Hannah had no children.
One man, two wives, and a home split between the wife with children and the wife with none. This small detail raises a large question. Why does God so often begin His greatest work with someone who has nothing?
Elkanah's home had a fault line running through it. One writer traces the trouble to the choice itself, and to an earlier household that made the same mistake.
Elkanah had two wives. Did he not know better than this? It bred unhappiness in the home, and it reminds us of the trouble around Abraham when he took Hagar as well as Sarah.
Others suggest the motive was not lust but longing — and still say the arrangement never worked.
Among the Israelites, taking a second wife was not always driven by the lower nature. In many cases it came from the desire for children, which the first wife could not give. This was the likely reason for Elkanah's double marriage. But "from the beginning it was not so" (Matt. 19:5-8)… plural marriages never seem to have worked well in practice. Look at the shameful conflict in Abraham's family over the lower-ranking Hagar, and in Jacob's family the bitter jealousy between the two sisters, Rachel and Leah. What could have been an ideal Hebrew home is spoiled by the bitter taunts of the proud Peninnah, and by the sorrow this brings to her barren rival.
The order of the two names points to a reason for the second marriage.
Elkanah had two wives. Hannah, whose name means grace, was much loved but barren. Peninnah, whose name means pearl, had children. Hannah's name stands first, which makes it likely that her barrenness led Elkanah to marry a second wife.
Commentators differ on what Peninnah's name means. One reads it as "pearl." Another reads it as "shining" or "glittering," and draws a warning from it.
She flourishes while Hannah is barren, but grows weak once Hannah becomes fruitful. Her name, Peninnah, has an uncertain meaning, but it probably means "shining, glittering." She may stand for the earthly things that so easily pull the heart away, even a Christian's heart, from what alone should hold it… After all, Elkanah did love Hannah. But grace cannot be at peace with a love that stays barren and bears no fruit.
Hannah's childlessness is more than a private sorrow. One writer sees in it a picture of what every person is before God.
The barren woman is in Scripture the type of nature's ruined and helpless condition. There is no ability to do anything for God — no power to bring forth any fruit to Him; all is death and barrenness. Such is the real condition of every child of Adam.
The same pattern runs through Scripture. Each time, human strength counts for nothing.
Like Sarah, like Hannah, like Rebekah, there is nothing of nature's energy and nothing of nature's strength in the barren woman at all. She is completely desolate, completely helpless… In Hannah we see someone so deeply troubled before God about her need that He can meet it and answer her soul's prayer.
One writer finds a purpose behind Hannah's closed womb.
Here we find that it was God who had closed her womb. I believe He did it to test her faith and to make her pray as she did. In this way she becomes an example to us of prayer, of perseverance, and of God's answer and response.
Peninnah's children gave her an argument as well as an advantage. Her taunts deepened Hannah's loneliness.
This was true of Peninnah. She had proud contempt and scorn for Hannah's tender conscience, and she used this public occasion to provoke her. She did it all the more boldly because she could point to her many children as proof of the Lord's blessing, while Hannah's barrenness must be a sure sign of His displeasure. This deepened not only her grief but her loneliness. In a crowd of outward worshippers, and in the presence of Eli, she was alone — but alone with God.
The reversal reaches far beyond one family.
However, the Lord made His grace abound over all Hannah's weakness and need, and He put a song of praise into her mouth… Making the barren woman rejoice is the Lord's own work. He alone can say, "Sing, O barren one, who did not bear; break forth into singing and cry aloud, you who have not been in labor! For the children of the desolate one will be more than the children of her who is married, says the LORD." (Isa. 54:1)
- Two wives — Elkanah's divided home repeats Abraham's and Jacob's. The custom was allowed, but it always bred grief.
- Two names — Hannah means grace and has nothing. Peninnah means pearl, or glittering, and has everything: the shining thing that pulls the heart away.
- Empty first — barrenness pictures what every person is before God: helpless, fruitless, without strength.
- Emptied on purpose — the Lord shut her womb to test her faith and drive her to pray. Peninnah's taunts left her alone in a crowd, but alone with God.
- Filled at last — grace abounded over her need and gave her a song. Only God can make the barren rejoice.
And this man went up out of his city from year to year to worship and to sacrifice to Jehovah of hosts in Shiloh. And the two sons of Eli, Hophni and Phinehas, the priests of Jehovah, were there.
In the closing days of the judges, one man went up every year to the place God had chosen. The verse also names the two men serving at the altar there. The whole book grows out of that contrast: a worshipper who keeps coming, and a priesthood already rotten.
Israel set up the tabernacle at Shiloh once the land was conquered. The name itself carries the idea of rest.
Shiloh means "peace" or "rest." Israel had conquered a large part of their inheritance and were now at rest, for the land was subdued before them. So they set up the tabernacle in the place the Lord had chosen to put His Name there (Deuteronomy 12:11).
Years of forgetfulness had not changed the place God had chosen. Nothing inside the tent had gone missing.
After all the forgetting and turning away, Shiloh was still the only place where the Lord had recorded His name. It was still the same. The mercy-seat, cherubim, golden altar, lampstand, laver, altar of burnt offering — all were there as at the first. There Elkanah brought his whole house, all his sons and daughters. There they came to worship.
The verse says he went up both to worship and to sacrifice. One writer traces that worship back to his family line.
This godly Israelite came from the family of Korah, the man destroyed with all his company for his rebellion in the wilderness. Yet Korah's children did not die (Numbers 26:11). "A debtor to mercy alone," he had good cause to worship. Others might go up merely to sacrifice, but Elkanah both worshipped and sacrificed. For him it was no formal or empty ceremony. He knew that Jehovah's distinguishing grace had given him not only the blessings of his life, but his very existence, since he came from one of the spared children of Korah. Knowing grace, and owning it, is what produces worship and obedience in a believer's life.
This verse holds the first use of the title "the LORD of hosts" in the Bible.
We do not meet with this name until 1 Samuel 1:3. It came in with prophetic testimony. Faith laid hold of Jehovah's glory when Israel had corrupted themselves and were weak and low. Scripture reveals that there is a mighty heavenly host, and principalities and powers in the unseen world. God is the God of them all, as well as God of all the elements of nature, which He has often used to punish His enemies.
That timing is the comfort in it. The title belongs to the worst seasons, not the best.
We first find this title in the first book of Samuel, in the time of the judges. Every man then did what was right in his own eyes, much as is the case today. Many of the prophets use the name, especially in days of weakness and failure. It is good to know that, despite man's failure, there is an all-sufficient God, who has unlimited resources at His disposal.
The verse calls Eli's two sons priests of the LORD. Their conduct worked against the whole purpose of priesthood.
Eli was godly himself and feared God, but he kept no order in his family of priests. The priesthood should have bound the people to God. Instead it morally separated them from Him. Hophni and Phinehas, the sons of Eli, were at Shiloh; but their conduct made the people despise the offering of the Lord.
Eli's own name is missing from the altar in this verse.
Eli seems to have taken the place of high priest, though he is not called that. He left the duties of priesthood to his sons. Scripture says "every priest stands daily" (Hebrews 10:11). Yet Eli is never shown standing. He is shown sitting twice (chapter 1:9; 4:13) and lying down once (chapter 3:2).
Here a faithful family stands beside a corrupt sanctuary. Scripture tells the story this way again and again.
All through Scripture, the brightest testimony for God comes in the times of worst corruption among His people… In the opening chapters of this book we see God working in grace. The sons of Aaron had failed, yet He kept the light of His lampstand burning… He did it to guide and comfort the godly, and to deliver His oppressed people in due time. This is a great encouragement to count on the Lord in an evil day.
- Place. Shiloh means rest. God chose it for His name, and after years of national drifting everything inside it still stood as at the first.
- Person. Elkanah came from Korah's spared children. He went up to worship, not only to sacrifice. Knowing grace is what produces worship.
- Name. "The LORD of hosts" enters Scripture right here, in Israel's weakest hour. Faith reached for the God of every unseen power.
- Contrast. The men called priests of the LORD made people despise the offerings. Eli sits and lies down where a priest should stand.
- Pattern. God keeps His lamp burning through faithful people just when the priesthood has failed. That is reason to count on Him in an evil day.
And it came to pass on the day that Elkanah sacrificed, he gave to Peninnah his wife and to all her sons and her daughters portions;
The verse slows down to watch a family meal on the day of Elkanah's sacrifice. It looks happy, yet these portions open the sorrow of the whole chapter — and show how God works.
Elkanah did not go up alone. His whole family travelled with him, at a time when almost everyone else had forgotten the place.
After all the forgetfulness and departure, Shiloh was the only place where the name of the Lord was recorded. It was still the same as at first. The mercy seat, cherubim, golden altar, lampstand, basin, altar of burnt offering — all were there as at the beginning. There Elkanah brought his whole house, all his sons and daughters. There they came to worship.
One writer separates the act of sacrificing from real worship. He also ties Elkanah's worship to his family past. Elkanah descended from Korah, who died in the wilderness for rebelling against God. But God spared Korah's children.
Others might go up merely to sacrifice, but Elkanah both worshipped and sacrificed. For him it was no formal or meaningless ceremony. He knew what he owed to the Lord's distinguishing grace: not only the blessings of his life, but his very existence, since he descended from one of the spared children of Korah. It is knowing grace, and acknowledging it, that produces worship and obedience in the believer's life.
These portions were not just dinner. They belonged to a sacrificial feast. That is why Hannah's refusal to eat stood out.
Hannah, on her visits to Shiloh, presents a sorrowful picture. Elkanah loves her and gives her a double portion. Meanwhile Peninnah, her rival, provoked her about her childlessness. So she wept and did not eat at the feast. Then she got up from the sacrificial feast, which she had not tasted, and sought the presence of the Lord.
The verse names the problem: one wife has sons and daughters, the other has none. Commentators trace this back to Elkanah's two marriages. The same pattern brought trouble in other homes as well.
From the start, marriage was meant to give a man one companion only. Marriages with more than one wife appear never to have worked well in practice. Look at the humiliating discord in Abraham's family over the inferior Hagar. Look at Jacob's family, and the bitter jealousies between the two sisters, Rachel and Leah. Here too it breeds strife and bitterness of spirit that is shameful to see. This might have been an ideal Hebrew home. Instead the elated Peninnah spoils it with her bitter taunts, and her barren rival is left in sorrow.
The names of the two wives carry meaning.
Hannah means "she was gracious," and Peninnah, "glittering."
Elkanah left no one out when he handed round the portions, yet his love had a favourite. One writer explains why God lets nature take the lead first.
In sacrificing, Elkanah did not forget his wives and Peninnah's children, but he showed more favour to Hannah because he loved her. The Lord had, in His wisdom, kept her from having children. Hannah was to learn the lesson, as we all should, that "it is not the spiritual that is first but the natural, and then the spiritual" (1 Cor. 15:46). The Lord allows mere human nature to have its way at first, to prove its own emptiness. Then He brings in what is altogether superior to it — just as Adam was the first man, and Christ the second Man.
This family scene opens something much larger. The people God will use are not the ones with the full table.
Here we see the barren wife, the persecuting woman, two worthless men as priests, and a feeble, failing old man as high priest. In such circumstances we are allowed to see the sovereign grace of God at work. It passes by the strength of nature in the fruitful woman. It works through the weakness of nature in the barren woman. And it abounds over the sin of man in the priests.
- Place. Elkanah brought his whole household to Shiloh. It was the one spot where God had recorded His name, and almost everyone else had forgotten it.
- Heart. He did not just sacrifice; he worshipped. He knew that God's grace had spared Korah's children, and so given him his very existence.
- Portions. The shares came from a sacrificial feast. Hannah left hers untasted, and the family meal became the start of her prayer.
- Division. Two wives meant a divided home. The same strife marked Abraham's house with Hagar and Jacob's with Rachel and Leah.
- Order. The glittering wife with children comes first, the gracious barren one second. The natural comes before the spiritual, so grace works through weakness, not strength.
but to Hannah he used to give a double portion, for he loved Hannah; but Jehovah had shut up her womb.
Elkanah's sacrifice should have been a family celebration, but it exposed a wound: Hannah got the larger share and no child. The verse sets a husband's love beside a closed womb, and it names God as the one who closed it.
A doubled share carried a clear message. Boaz sent Ruth home with one:
The "six measures" of barley that Ruth was carrying to Naomi equalled two ephahs. That was twice what she had gleaned herself. It was a "double portion," a sign from Boaz of special favour (Deuteronomy 21:17; 1 Samuel 1:5).
There are two portions because there are two wives. That arrangement is where the trouble starts:
Among the Israelites, taking a second wife was not always driven by lower motives. In many cases it came from the desire for children, which the first wife could not have. This was probably the reason for Elkanah's double marriage. But "from the beginning it was not so." Marriage was meant from the start to give a man only one companion. Marriages with more than one wife never seem to have worked well in practice. Look at the humiliating discord in Abraham's family over Hagar, and the bitter jealousy in Jacob's family between the two sisters, Rachel and Leah. Here too it breeds strife and bitterness that is shameful to see. The bitter taunts of a proud Peninnah spoil what might otherwise have been an ideal Hebrew home, and they leave her barren rival in sorrow.
The verse puts the husband's love beside the wife's emptiness. That love made the home harder to live in:
Hannah means "grace"; but before she matched her name, she pictures the flesh that cannot bear fruit for God. We must always begin there… Like Sarah long before, she faced the hatred and contempt of the wife according to the flesh. That wife was thriving, for Peninnah "had children" when Hannah had none. But the first wife hated her all the more, because their husband's love turned toward Hannah — the wife who was miserable and barren.
The text does not blame nature or bad luck. It puts the closed womb in God's hand, and one writer sees purpose in that:
When he sacrificed, Elkanah did not forget his wives and Peninnah's children, but he favoured Hannah because he loved her. The Lord had, in His wisdom, withheld her from bearing children. … But Hannah was to learn the lesson, as we all should, that "it is not the spiritual that is first but the natural, and then the spiritual." The Lord allows mere human nature to have its way at first, to prove its own emptiness. Then He brings in something far better — just as Adam was the first man, Christ the second Man. … Even though the Lord Himself is enough to satisfy our hearts, He has planted in every believer a desire to bear fruit for Him. This is only normal and right.
Hannah had a choice about where to take her pain:
Here we find that it was God who had closed her womb. I believe He did it to test her faith and to make her pray as she did. In this way she would be an example to us of prayer and perseverance, and of answer and response to God. What a wonderful story it is. So Hannah was persecuted and ridiculed, and how deeply she felt it. She could have gone to her husband and complained about the treatment, but in verse 10 she prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly.
Her barrenness stands for more than her own grief:
The barren woman is in Scripture the picture of nature's ruined and helpless condition. There is no ability to do anything for God — no power to bring forth any fruit to Him; all is death and barrenness. Such is the real condition of every child of Adam.
But that is not the end. The same writer names the one who can reverse it:
It is the Lord's special work to make the barren woman rejoice. He alone can say, "Sing, O barren one, who did not bear; break forth into singing and cry aloud, you who have not been in labor! For the children of the desolate one will be more than the children of her who is married, says the LORD."
- Love — the double portion was a sign of special favour. Elkanah gave Hannah more because he loved her.
- Lack — his love could not give her a child. A home with two wives bred taunts and grief instead of peace.
- Lord — the verse names God as the one who shut her womb. He withholds in wisdom, letting what is natural prove its emptiness first.
- Lesson — barrenness pictures our own inability to bear fruit for God. Every child of Adam starts there.
- Later — the closed door drove Hannah to prayer and tears. It is God's special work to make the barren woman sing.
And her adversary provoked her much also, to make her fret, because Jehovah had shut up her womb.
Hannah lived with a rival wife who kept up the pressure, and the wound that rival aimed at was one God Himself had made. Why would the Lord close her womb, and then let that pain become a weapon against her?
Elkanah had two wives. One writer traces the trouble back to a marriage God never designed, and points to the same pattern in earlier families:
Among the Israelites, taking a second wife was not always based on lower motives. In many cases it came from the desire for children, which the first wife had not been given. This was likely the reason for Elkanah's double marriage. But "from the beginning it was not so" (Matt. 19:5-8). Marriage at first meant a single companion for a man, and plural marriages appear never to have worked well in practice. Look at the humiliating discord in Abraham's family over Hagar, and the bitter jealousy in Jacob's family between the two sisters, Rachel and Leah. The bitter provoking of the proud Peninnah, and the sorrow it caused her barren rival, spoil what might otherwise have been an ideal Hebrew home.
To grasp why the taunt cut so deep, you have to know what childlessness meant to a woman of Israel.
We know from the book of Daniel that Jewish women longed to give birth to a son. They hoped that son would prove to be the Messiah, the One long promised to Israel. So for a Jewish woman to be barren was a great reproach to her.
Peninnah picked a public moment, and she had proof ready to hand — her own children:
She looked at Hannah's tender conscience with proud contempt and scorn, and she used this public occasion to provoke her. She did it all the more boldly because she could point to her many children as proof of the Lord's blessing, while Hannah's barrenness must be a sure sign of His displeasure. This intensified not only her grief but her isolation. In the middle of a crowd of outward worshippers, and in the presence of Eli, she was alone — but alone with God.
The verse traces her barrenness to the Lord Himself. That is what Peninnah used against her, and it is also where the hope lies:
Here we find that it was God who had closed her womb. I believe He did it to test her faith and to make her pray as she did. In this way she becomes an example to us of prayer and perseverance, and of answer and response to God. So Hannah was persecuted and ridiculed, and how deeply she felt it. She might have gone to her husband and complained of the treatment, but in verse 10 she prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly.
Writers see more in Hannah's condition than a personal sorrow; they read it as a portrait of what every one of us is by nature:
The barren woman is in Scripture the type of nature's ruined and helpless condition. There is no ability to do anything for God — no power to bring forth any fruit to Him; all is death and barrenness. Such is the real condition of every child of Adam. He can neither do anything for God nor for himself, as regards his eternal destiny. He is emphatically "without strength"; he is "a dry tree," "a heath in the desert."
Her name carries the point further. Rossier observes that she has to reach the end of herself before she can live up to what she is called:
Hannah means "grace"; but before answering to her name, she represents the flesh incapable of bearing fruit for God. We must always begin there… It is easier to confess that we are guilty than to admit that we cannot do anything. Admitting that our flesh has no power humbles us deeply.
The taunt was aimed at making her fret. One writer warns that the same tactic is still used:
The devil would seek to occupy our thoughts with the trial, to bring in distance between our souls and the LORD. He would seek to fill our minds with the harsh words and unjust acts of those who oppose us. In this way he leads us to "fret" and "grieve" and complain in bitterness of soul, like Hannah of old. Faith turns the trial into an occasion for turning to the LORD. It not only defeats the devil but gets blessing out of the trial.
Hannah took it to God instead. In the end her circumstances did not change — she did:
The contrast is striking. First we see Hannah unable to eat, weeping in bitterness of soul. Then we see Hannah go on her way and eat, with her face no longer sad. How did this difference come about? Was it a change of circumstances, or the removal of what caused the sorrow? Not at all; the circumstances had not altered; she was still the barren woman. The secret of the change is that she had poured out her soul before the Lord. The persecution of her adversary, the fretting of spirit, the bitterness of soul — she poured it all out with weeping before the Lord. Her sorrow is poured out and God's peace is poured in.
- Cause — A home built outside God's design for marriage bred the strife. Going against His Word brings its own pain.
- Weapon — Barrenness was a deep reproach for a woman of Israel. Peninnah aimed there, and used her own children as evidence that God was against Hannah.
- Hand — The verse says the Lord Himself closed her womb. One writer reads this as God's own work to test her faith and drive her to prayer.
- Picture — The barren woman stands for human nature, with no power to bear fruit for God. Hannah, whose name means grace, must first admit she is helpless.
- Result — She did not repay the taunt. She poured it out before the Lord, and though her circumstances stayed the same, her face did not.
And [as] he did so year by year, as often as she went up to the house of Jehovah, she provoked her thus; and she wept and did not eat.
Hannah's sorrow was not one bad day. It came back every year, at the house of the Lord, when the family had come to worship. Why did God allow years of this? And why would a grieving woman not eat?
The trouble started long before Hannah wept. One writer sets this home beside two earlier ones.
Among the Israelites, taking a second wife was not always based on lower motives. In many cases it came from the desire for children, denied to the first wife. This was probably the reason for Elkanah's double marriage. But "from the beginning it was not so" (Matt. 19:5-8). Marriage as first set up planned only one companion for man. Plural marriages seem never to have worked well in practice. Look at the humiliating discord in Abraham's family over Hagar, and in Jacob's family, the bitter jealousies between the two sisters, Rachel and Leah. The proud Peninnah's bitter provoking spoils what might otherwise have been an ideal Hebrew home, and leaves her barren rival in sorrow.
The words "year by year" cover a long stretch of time. What stands out is what Hannah never did in it.
This unwarranted provoking of Hannah by her unworthy companion must have gone on for years. Only someone in the same position could understand what the poor, childless wife suffered from her adversary's tongue during those years of hope deferred. It is beautiful to see her submit without resentment to the persecution of Peninnah, the proud, if not happy, mother of children. There is no hint of anger in Hannah. She did not pay back insult with insult, but poured out the story of her grief in the ears of the God of Israel. He heard her complaint and answered, after her weary years of waiting, beyond anything she likely expected.
The taunting came at the house of the Lord, in public. Peninnah even had an argument ready.
Men despised the offering of the Lord. Those who kept up the outward form did so with heartless indifference to the holiness of God and the authority of His word. This was the case with Peninnah. With proud contempt and scorn for Hannah's tender conscience, she took this public chance to provoke her. She was all the bolder because she could point to her many children as proof of the Lord's blessing, while Hannah's barrenness must be a sure sign of His displeasure. This deepened not only her grief but her isolation. In the middle of a crowd of outward worshippers, and in the presence of Eli, she was alone — but alone with God.
Grief takes away appetite. But one writer finds more than grief in her fasting.
Notice another admirable trait in Hannah's character: she refused to eat of the sacrificial feast. She "wept and would not eat." By this she shows that she knew the law of the Lord and obeyed it. It appears that law did not allow the sacrifices to be eaten in mourning. (See Lev. 10:19; Deut. 26:14; Hosea 9:4.) How lovely this subjection of soul! In all Israel, what fitter vessel could give the nation its long-needed deliverer? She lived up to the meaning of her name, to bend. She bent under her cruel adversary's constant reproaches, and she bent to the Lord's will.
Her sorrow had a source above her rival.
Here we find that it was God who had closed up her womb. I believe He did this to test her faith and to make her pray as she did. In this way she might be an example to us of prayer and perseverance, and of God's answer and response. So Hannah was persecuted and ridiculed, and she felt it deeply. She might have gone to her husband and complained about the treatment. Instead, in verse 10 she prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly.
Eleven verses later the same woman eats, and her face is no longer sad.
How striking is the contrast! In verse 7 Hannah cannot eat and weeps in bitterness of soul. In verse 18 she "went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad." What made the difference? Had her circumstances changed, or had the cause of her sorrow gone? Not at all; the circumstances had not altered; she was still the barren woman. The secret of the change is that she had poured out her soul before the Lord. The persecution of her adversary, the fretting spirit, the bitterness of soul — she poured it all out with weeping before the Lord. Her sorrow is poured out and God's peace is poured in.
- The cause. Her closed womb was not Peninnah's doing but the Lord's, to test her faith and drive her to pray.
- The pressure. Peninnah struck at the house of the Lord. She held up her own children as proof of God's favour, and Hannah's barrenness as proof of His displeasure.
- The silence. Through years of taunting Hannah returned no insult. She carried her complaint to God instead.
- The bending. She would not eat, because the law did not allow the sacrifice to be eaten in mourning. God chose that yielded woman to give Israel its deliverer.
- The result. Her grief ended when she poured it out before God, not when her life changed. Sorrow poured out, peace poured in.
And Elkanah her husband said to her, Hannah, why weepest thou? and why eatest thou not? and why is thy heart grieved? Am not I better to thee than ten sons?
Elkanah finds his wife weeping and refusing to eat. He answers her tears with four questions, and the last one offers himself in place of the children she does not have. His words are warm and sincere. Yet Hannah keeps weeping, and the story asks why the best human love could not reach her sorrow.
The question is not a rebuke. It is affection trying to fill a gap from a man who already had children by Peninnah.
It was a tender word from Elkanah to his weeping wife, when he said, "Am I not more to you than ten sons?" — meant to console her in her sorrow. Hannah, no doubt, fully appreciated the love and sympathy behind it. But she would not be put off by it. She still longed for the one gift from the Lord that could satisfy her aching heart — a son. He clearly did not share her longing for a son. He seemed satisfied with the children Peninnah had given him, and Hannah prayed and bore her grief alone.
Elkanah measured her sorrow by what he could supply.
Elkanah was a kind, considerate husband. But he did not understand how deep her grief was, for he thought she would consider him better to her than ten sons. There is a spiritual lesson here. The Lord Himself is enough to satisfy our hearts. Even so, He has planted within every believer a desire to bear fruit for Him, and this is only normal and right.
In the account, Hannah's childlessness is more than a private sorrow. Commentators read it as a picture. Her name and her condition point in opposite directions.
Hannah has a remarkable trait: her character is that of the believer in all ages. Hannah means "grace"; but before answering to her name, she represents the flesh unable to bear fruit for God. We must always begin there… It is easier to confess that we are guilty than to admit our incapacity. To admit that our flesh is powerless is deeply humiliating… She does not desire this son for herself. She is entirely willing to "give him to the LORD all the days of his life." What she needs is a sign of God's favor. What she needs is "grace!"
Elkanah offered himself in place of children. But Hannah did not simply want children.
And why a son? Was it merely a preference for boys? No; a higher motive moved her — she seems to have had in view God's glory and the good of His straying people. She knew well the condition of Israel. Eli's sons held the highest position, and what they did told the sad and undeniable story: "Fallen! fallen!" So her earnest desire goes up to God for a son who might grow up under the blessing of the LORD to be a deliverer in Israel.
Hannah's sadness lifts later in the chapter. What lifted it was not a change in her situation.
See the striking contrast. In verse 7 Hannah cannot eat and weeps bitterly in her soul. In verse 18 she "went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad." How did this difference come about? Was it a change of circumstances, or the removal of what caused the sorrow? Not at all; the circumstances had not altered; she was still the barren woman. The secret of the change is this: she had poured out her soul before the Lord… Her sorrow is poured out and God's peace is poured in.
The verse also warns about where a hurting mind settles. One writer reads Hannah's fretting as the enemy's opportunity.
The devil would seek to occupy our thoughts with the trial to bring in distance between our souls and the LORD. He would seek to fill our minds with the harsh words and unjust acts of those who oppose us. In this way he leads us to "fret," and "grieve," and complain in bitterness of soul, like Hannah of old. Faith, making the trial an occasion of turning to the LORD, not only triumphs over the devil, but gets blessing out of the trial.
- Love — Elkanah's question is real affection, not criticism. Hannah felt its warmth and still kept asking God.
- Limit — He was kind, but he did not see how deep her grief ran. God Himself plants in every believer the desire to bear fruit.
- Longing — She wanted more than a child. She wanted a son for God's glory and for a people whose leaders had fallen. Ten sons could not have supplied that.
- Outpouring — The turn came when she poured out her soul before the Lord. Faith makes the trial itself the occasion for going to God.
- Peace — Her face changed before her circumstances did. She was still the barren woman when she went away eating and no longer sad.