And Hannah rose up after they had eaten in Shiloh, and after they had drunk; (now Eli the priest sat upon the seat by the door-post of the temple of Jehovah;)
A family meal at Shiloh comes to an end, and one woman gets up from it to go and pray. One sentence puts two figures side by side: a grieving wife on her feet, and Eli the priest seated by the doorpost. Much of what follows turns on that contrast.
There was no stone building at Shiloh yet. The word here describes the tent Israel carried through the wilderness and set up in the land. Scripture gives that tent several names.
The tabernacle had been the house of God in the wilderness. Israel carried it, with all its sacred furniture, into Canaan and pitched it at Shiloh (Joshua 18:1). So this was the place Israel came to with their yearly sacrifices (1 Sam. 1:3). It was still called "the tent of meeting" (1 Sam. 2:22), but also "the temple of the LORD," and "the house of the LORD" (1 Sam. 3:3, 15). These later names only pointed forward to the house that would later be built in Jerusalem.
The verse marks the moment: the eating and drinking were over, and then Hannah got up. Food could not touch what was wrong with her.
One resource remained to her: to present her affliction before the Lord. Only God's heart could give her an answer in grace; so she presents herself before Him at Shiloh. A new trial awaits her there… What suffering! She has no resource in herself; the world is hostile to her; those who bear the Lord's name judge her and do not understand her! How can she eat and drink and rejoice, when her soul's only desire has found no answer?
Eli's posture is not a neutral detail. God gave the priests no seat in that tent.
Eli, the high priest, was a man of much personal piety. He comes before us as a weakened old man sitting by a post of the temple (verse 9). He mistakes the exercises of a godly soul for the ravings of a drunken woman (13). Sitting where God had provided no seat would show a lack of spiritual energy. His mistake about Hannah would show a lack of spiritual discernment.
The seat also shaped how he treated her.
Eli was a stranger to such exercise. He sat on a seat by a post of the temple, in effect sitting as a judge instead of standing as priest… He knew how to reprove her. He did not give the help and compassion which was the very purpose of priesthood (Heb. 5:1-2).
One man in Israel was meant to carry the people's griefs to God. He misread Hannah.
Others went to worship there with their thank-offerings; she drew near with her tears… But here is the remarkable thing in the story. God draws our attention to the high priest himself, who did not share His mind. This was the very man who should have entered into the greatest difficulties of God's people. Here he was among the last to understand. I have no doubt that Peninnah, bad as she was, knew more of the secret of Hannah's grief than Eli did… So at the very start God shows us a failure. Up to that moment this man was outwardly the appointed channel of communication — from God to the people, and from the people to God.
Her tears also had a cause outside her own home.
The sights around the tabernacle doors stirred her devoted heart deeply. The shameless immorality and greed of Hophni and Phinehas told a repulsive tale of wickedness — and that in front of the sanctuary! They flaunted sin in the very face of Israel's God; "men treated the offering of the LORD with contempt"… Eli himself should above all others have understood this. He should have been low in the dust before God over such a shameful state of things. Instead he seemed hardly troubled. A good, easy-going man, he sat calmly at the temple entrance — not to watch and correct his corrupt sons, but to observe, misread and rebuke a godly woman at prayer!
What she asked for was not simply a comfort for herself.
She asked at Shiloh for a son, and she asked for him for Shiloh… There may be two parties at Shiloh who do not understand each other. Eli sits on a post, and Hannah weeps bitterly. But God grants the weeping woman what she asked.
- Place. Shiloh's "temple" was the wilderness tent, set up in the land. Israel brought its yearly sacrifices there.
- Rising. Hannah gets up from a meal that cannot satisfy her, because only God's heart can answer her affliction.
- Sitting. Eli sits where God gave him no seat. The posture marks a man whose spiritual energy has drained away.
- Judging. From that seat he judges instead of serving as priest. He reproves her, where compassion was the whole point of the office.
- Answering. The one no leader understood is the one God hears; she asks for a son at Shiloh, and asks him for Shiloh.
and she was in bitterness of soul, and prayed to Jehovah, and wept much.
Hannah weeps at the one moment you would expect joy: the family feast at Shiloh, Israel's place of worship. Her tears raise two questions: why does sorrow grow sharper in a holy place, and what do you do with grief no one around you understands?
Her hardest moment came where everyone else was celebrating. Peninnah, the rival wife who had children, aimed her taunts at that very setting.
Peninnah looked on Hannah's tender conscience with proud contempt and scorn, and she used this public moment 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 isolation. In the middle of a crowd of outward worshippers, and in the presence of Eli, she was alone — but alone with God.
Her pain had a source and a purpose, and she had a choice about where to take it.
It was God who had closed her womb. I believe He did this to test her faith and to make her pray as she did, so that she might be an example to us of prayer and perseverance, and of God's answer and response. Hannah was persecuted and ridiculed, and she felt it deeply. She might have gone to her husband and complained about the way she was treated. Instead, in verse 10, she prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly.
The man watching her pray was the high priest. His task was to carry the people's case to God, yet he misread her.
Hannah knew how desolate she was as a wife without a child. Grace led her to cast her care on the Lord without judging Him hard toward her. She spreads her soul's desire and grief before Him. Others went to worship there with their thank-offerings; she drew near with her tears… The remarkable feature of the account is this: God points out that the high priest himself did not share His mind. The man who should most of all have entered into the greatest difficulties of the people of God was here among the last to understand her case. The very man who should have pleaded for her, carrying her cry to the Lord as her intercessor, misjudged her instead.
Eli's sons had corrupted the worship at Shiloh, and Hannah's longing for a son reached further than her own grief.
In Hannah's desire for "a man child" we see not only the heart of a mother but the heart of an Israelite. She had, no doubt, seen and mourned over the ruin of everything connected with the temple of the Lord. The dimmed eye of Eli, the vile actions of Hophni and Phinehas, the fading lamp, the desecrated temple, the despised sacrifice — all of it told Hannah that something was truly missing. Only one thing could supply that lack: the precious gift of a man-child from the Lord.
Her name carries the point of her story, and she has to reach the end of her own resources before it becomes true of her.
Hannah has a remarkable trait: her character is that of the believer in every age. Hannah means "grace." But before she answers to her name, she stands for the flesh, unable to bear fruit for God. We must always begin there.
God's way of working runs against every appearance of strength in the chapter.
The story sets before us the barren wife, the persecuting woman, two worthless men as priests, and a feeble, failing old man as high priest. In such circumstances God lets us see His sovereign grace 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.
Eight verses later she eats again and her face has changed — though nothing outside her has.
How came this difference? 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. The persecution of her enemy, the fretting spirit, the bitterness of soul — she had wept it all out before Him. She pours out her sorrow, and God pours in His peace.
- Pour it out — Hannah took her bitterness of soul to God, not to her husband. That one choice turns the whole chapter.
- Poured out where — she wept at the place of worship. Provoked in front of everyone and alone in a crowd, she was still "alone with God."
- Poured out to One who listens — even the high priest misjudged her. The one man meant to understand her failed her, and God noted it.
- Poured out for more than herself — her longing met the ruin of the temple worship, not just her own emptiness.
- Peace poured in — nothing around her had changed when she rose. She had changed.
And she vowed a vow, and said, O Jehovah of hosts, if thou wilt indeed look on the affliction of thy handmaid, and remember me, and not forget thy handmaid, but wilt give unto thy handmaid a man child, then I will give him to Jehovah all the days of his life, and there shall no razor come upon his head.
A childless woman stands at the sanctuary in Shiloh. Israel's worship had sunk low, and she turns her grief into a vow: give me a son, and I will give him back. Three questions follow. Why does she ask for a son? Why does she call God by a name no one had used before? And what does it cost to give away the thing you begged for?
She asked God for a son, not just for a child. Her reason reached beyond her own home.
And why a man child? Was it just a preference for boys? No; a higher motive moved her — she seems to have had God's glory and the good of His erring people in view. She knew the condition of Israel well. The sons of Eli held the highest position, and what they did told the sad and undeniable tale of "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.
Why does she call God the LORD of hosts here? The state of Israel at that moment explains it.
Hannah was alone and shamed. Around her was either spiritual deadness or shameless wickedness. Judgment from the Lord was coming, for He had been dishonoured in His sanctuary. It was at such a moment that it pleased God to reveal Himself by a name which He had not taken before... The time had come for such a revelation of the divine glory. It was well suited to encourage the faith of the weak when hostile power stood against them. Hannah was the first that we read of who cried to the Lord as Jehovah Tzebâôth (the Lord of hosts or armies, 1:11). David also met and overthrew Goliath in the might of that name (17:45).
Three times in one sentence she calls herself God's servant. Older translations read "handmaid" here. Other women in Scripture used the same word of themselves.
These words often refer in Scripture to a female slave, as applied to Hagar the Egyptian, Gen. 25:12; but were also used by women themselves as a term of humility, as when Hannah spoke to the Lord and to Eli, 1 Sam. 1:11, 16, 18; as Abigail to David, 1 Sam. 25:24-41; and by Mary and Elizabeth as handmaids of the Lord. Luke 1:38, 48.
Something changed in Hannah before anything changed around her.
How striking the contrast in Hannah. In verse 7 she cannot eat and weeps in bitterness of soul. In verse 18 she "went her way and did eat and her countenance was no more sad." How did this difference come about? Was it change of circumstances or the removal of that which 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 word she used in her vow comes back later as the word for God's answer.
She had prayed, "O LORD of hosts... remember me" (11); now we read, "the LORD remembered her" (19). She gets a son — the man-child she had asked for. The child that she receives from the Lord she gives back to the Lord.
Uncut hair was one mark of a Nazarite, a man set apart for the service of God. Many have read Hannah's promise about the razor that way.
Many expositors have concluded from this that Samuel was a Nazarite. The other two marks of a Nazarite are not mentioned. But Hannah's words do carry the thought that Samuel was to be wholly for God and live for Him: "I will give him to the LORD all the days of his life."
Why hair, of all signs? Because of what it said about the man who wore it.
The long hair of the Nazarite announced to everyone that he had given up his dignity and personal rights as a man, so that he could devote himself to the service of God... He was born to this dignity, yet he set it aside. He was meant to rule, yet he submitted himself to the Lord as a wife to her husband. Without this dependence there can be neither service for God nor power for it. That which was a sign of weakness for the Nazarite became the source of his strength.
- Ruin — Hannah prayed while the priesthood was corrupt. She wanted a son who could be a deliverer in Israel, not just a child of her own.
- Name — she is the first in Scripture to call on the LORD of hosts. God took that name when His people were at their weakest.
- Servant — the word she repeats is a word of humility, later used by Abigail, Mary and Elizabeth.
- Peace — her face changed before her circumstances did. She poured out her sorrow, and God poured in His peace.
- Given back — she asked God to remember her, and He did. The son she received she gave back, marked by uncut hair as one who gave up his standing to serve God.
And it came to pass as she continued praying before Jehovah, that Eli marked her mouth.
Hannah prays at the sanctuary in Shiloh, and she prays so long that the priest Eli starts to watch her lips. The scene shows what real prayer is like from the inside — and how badly people can misread it from the outside.
The words "she continued praying" describe how she prayed. One writer follows that praying to where it ended:
This dear woman, after making this vow, continued praying before the Lord. She continued praying. This was not a prayer you can put in the files and draw out at some convenient moment. It was a continuing in prayer, the desire of the heart so active in this way. Prayer, prayer, prayer. I do not know how long she prayed, but she continued in prayer. She had made her request. She had expressed her vow. She had expressed her determination to do this. And she continued in it until the time came when she got peace and assurance. The bitterness passed away.
Her lips moved, but no sound came out. A comment on the woman who touched Jesus' garment puts Hannah beside her:
Faith in the heart may express itself in many ways. It may come as urgent earnestness, like Abraham pleading for Sodom and Gomorrah. Or it may come as patient endurance of suffering, as with Job and Joseph. Here the silent appeal of the woman's touch shows how eloquent before God the very silence of faith may be. In the same way, the wordless posture of Hannah did not escape the pitying eye of Jehovah (1 Sam. 1). For it is with the heart that man believes, whatever the way faith expresses itself before people.
Eli watched her mouth and read it wrong. One writer notes where he sat and what his office should have supplied:
Eli was a stranger to such exercise. He sat on a seat by a post of the temple, in effect sitting as a judge instead of standing as priest. He saw Hannah's lips move as she prayed silently, and made the sad blunder of judging that she was drunk. He knew how to rebuke her. But he did not give the help and compassion which was the very purpose of priesthood (Heb. 5:1-2).
His mistake also exposes the state of Israel at the time:
Here the account names Eli the priest for the first time. Her silent prayer astonished him, and he accused her of drunkenness. His astonishment and his accusation are a witness to the sad state of Israel. Clearly few ever sought the presence of the Lord. His rebuke also makes it clear that drunkenness during the feasts at Shiloh was not unusual.
Hannah came to Shiloh for relief and found a fresh wound there:
One resource remained to her: to bring her affliction before the Lord. Only God's heart could give her an answer in grace; so she presents herself before Him at Shiloh. A new trial awaits her there. She meets a spiritual leader of her people who does not understand her. He confuses the working of the Spirit of God with the working of the flesh. He believes she is drunk, when in fact she is in anguish. What suffering! She has no resource in herself. The world is hostile to her. Those who bear the Lord's name judge her and do not understand her!
Another writer sets Eli beside the risen Christ:
Of all people, this man should have been in close touch with God. Instead he was so far out of communion with Him that he could not tell a sorrowful woman from a drunken woman. God's priest should be both compassionate and sympathetic (Heb. 5:2). The risen Christ is all this and more; Eli, sadly, was only a poor foreshadowing of Him.
Her circumstances did not change that day. Something else did:
Hannah found this long ago. In her deep trial she could say, "I have poured out my soul before the Lord." As a result we read, "her face was no longer sad." Yet at that moment her circumstances were just the same. Afterwards the Lord did change her circumstances, but first He showed that He had the power to change Hannah. God brought her from grief of heart and bitterness of soul into great peace — the peace of God which surpasses all understanding — as she made her requests known to Him.
- Continued — Hannah did not pray once and move on. She stayed in prayer until peace and assurance came.
- Silent — Her lips moved and no one heard a voice. God's pitying eye still read that silence of faith.
- Misjudged — Eli sat as a judge instead of standing as a priest. He rebuked her where he should have helped her.
- Symptom — Silent prayer looked like drunkenness to him. Few in Israel ever sought God's presence.
- Changed — God changed Hannah before He changed her circumstances. Her grief lifted while her situation stayed the same.
Now Hannah spoke in her heart; only her lips moved, but her voice was not heard; and Eli thought she was drunken.
Hannah prays at God's tent of worship in Shiloh, her lips moving without a sound, and Eli the old priest reads her completely wrong. So the verse raises two questions: does God hear a silent prayer, and how could a priest misjudge a godly woman?
The words "Hannah was speaking in her heart" describe a prayer with no audience but God. One writer notes what that hidden prayer received:
When she poured out her request in sorrow, "only her lips moved, and her voice was not heard." She prayed "in secret" to Him who "hears in secret," and He had rewarded her "openly."
Silence took nothing away from that prayer. It also shows how anyone can pray while sitting among other worshippers:
This godly woman prayed in the house of the Lord, when the worshippers had gathered. Notice it says of her: "Hannah was speaking in her heart; only her lips moved, and her voice was not heard" (v. 13). To have prayed out loud in that mixed company would not have been proper. Yet she could pray in her heart, and God heard and answered.
The verse shows two things at once: what Hannah was doing, and what Eli saw. The gap between them is the whole problem.
"Hannah was speaking in her heart," but Eli only marked her mouth. He judged by the "outward appearance," and decided she was drunk!
His posture matched his mistake. He sat by the doorpost, and gave her correction, not help:
Eli was a stranger to that kind of praying. He sat on a seat by a post of the temple. He was sitting as a judge rather than standing as priest. He saw Hannah's lips move as she prayed silently, and made the sad blunder of judging that she was drunk. He knew how to correct her, but did not provide the help and compassion which was the very purpose of priesthood.
Eli's assumption says as much about Shiloh as it does about him. That silent prayer struck him as strange, and drink did not:
This is the first time Eli the priest appears. He was amazed to see her praying in silence, and he accused her of being drunk. His astonishment and accusation are a witness to the sad state of Israel. Clearly few ever sought the presence of the Lord. And his rebuke makes it plain that drunkenness was not uncommon during the feasts at Shiloh.
Hannah was not the last person to look drunk while praying. Her reply to the false charge teaches as much as her prayer did:
This was not the only time people moved by the Spirit were judged to be drunk with wine. It happened again at Pentecost, twelve hundred years later. The "spiritual man" is always thought "mad" by those who know nothing of the power of God moving the soul... She addresses him with all the respect due to his age and office. She does not hit back. She does not remind him of his sons' failings, or tell him to look to his own house before he rushes to accuse and condemn others.
Hannah's mouth moved while her voice stayed silent. One writer applies that to how we handle trouble among God's people:
We read of Hannah, the mother of Samuel, that in a crisis her mouth moved but her voice was not heard. It would perhaps be a good thing if in a crisis our feelings were more active than our voices. We would feel the difficulties that come in as our own, and weep over the dishonour brought to the name of Christ.
She walked away from that unheard prayer a different woman, long before she held a son:
So Hannah found, long ago, when in her deep trial she could say, "I... have poured out my soul before the Lord." As a result, we read, "Her countenance was no more sad." Yet at that moment her circumstances were just the same. Later the Lord did change her circumstances. But first He showed that He had the power to change Hannah.
- Heard — no one at Shiloh heard her voice. She prayed in secret to a God who hears in secret and rewards openly.
- Misheard — Eli watched her mouth and judged by outward appearance. He sat as a judge instead of standing as a priest.
- Unheard-of — silent prayer looked strange to him, and drunkenness looked normal. His wrong guess exposes the state of Israel's worship.
- Overheard — the same charge came again at Pentecost. Earnestness before God has always looked like madness to those who have never felt it.
- Answered — she left with a changed face before her situation changed. God showed His power to change Hannah first.
And Eli said to her, How long wilt thou be drunken? put away thy wine from thee.
Hannah stood at the entrance of the tabernacle at Shiloh and prayed without a sound. The priest who watched her lips decided she was drunk. How could the man who stood between God and Israel misread a woman at prayer in the place he served?
The words Eli used were not gentle or figurative. One writer traces the Hebrew word for wine through every place it appears:
By "wine" we mean an intoxicating drink made from the grape, unless the context changes that sense. That this is the force of yayin will be clear from looking at all the texts where it occurs... The word was even used to denote the effect of wine.
So Eli was not hinting at something mild. "Put your wine away from you" told a grieving woman to sober up.
This was no small slip. One writer sees in it the state of a whole priesthood, not of one man only:
In himself he had a heart for the Lord, but not enough to stand for Him. With him the whole order he belonged to is wearing out. His spiritual sense is blunt, as is his nature. He cannot see what kind of woman stands sorrowing in front of him. He sees only the moving of lips, and he misreads it. He passes a judgment that he very soon has to take back. Yet this stirs no self-judgment in him, and no sight of his own shallowness. We find this in Eli all the way through.
Eli also aimed his correction at the wrong person:
Eli himself should have understood this shameful state of things more than anyone. He should have been low in the dust before God over it. Instead he seemed hardly troubled. Like a "good and easy man," he sat at ease at the temple entrance. He was not there to watch and correct his corrupt sons. He was there to watch a godly woman at prayer, misread her, and rebuke her! ... "She was speaking in her heart," but Eli only watched her mouth; he judged by the "outward appearance," and decided she was drunk!
One writer sets her prayer beside the place where Eli sat:
Eli was a stranger to such exercise of soul. He sat on a seat by a post of the temple, in effect sitting as a judge rather than standing as priest. He saw Hannah's lips move as she prayed in silence, and made the sad blunder of judging her drunk. He knew how to reprove her, but did not provide the help and compassion which was the very purpose of priesthood.
Another writer turns the failure into a question for the reader:
Poor Eli made a serious blunder in his dealings with Hannah. He supposed her to be drunk. In reality she was a sorrowful woman pouring out her heart to her God. Nearness to God was meant to give the priests good judgment about holy and unholy, clean and unclean. That way they could instruct the people... How is it with us? Grace has put every believer into the priestly place, but are we in the power of it? Are we spiritually discerning?
Hannah came looking for help, and met this instead:
She meets a lack of understanding in the spiritual leader of her people. He confuses the work of the Spirit of God with the work of the flesh. He believes she is drunk, when in fact she is in anguish. What suffering! She has no resource within herself. The world is against her. Those who bear the Lord's name judge her and do not understand her!
Yet a wrong verdict from a priest could not block God's answer:
The ordered way of blessing is closing up, and God is finding new channels to pour His grace into. His grace must not lack expression while the need is there that demands it. The cry of distress may be misinterpreted, even by His people; but His own ear cannot be stopped.
- Silence. Hannah spoke in her heart, and only her lips moved — prayer God could hear but a watching man could not.
- Misread. Eli's charge meant plain drunkenness. His spiritual sense was blunt, and he had to take his verdict back at once.
- Misaimed. He rebuked a praying woman at the door and left his own corrupt sons alone. He judged by the outward appearance.
- Misplaced. He sat as a judge instead of standing as a priest. He was quick to reprove, but gave none of the help and compassion a priest exists to give.
- Still heard. God's own representative misread her cry. But God's ear cannot be stopped, and His grace found a new channel.
And Hannah answered and said, No, my lord, I am a woman of a sorrowful spirit I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but have poured out my soul before Jehovah.
Hannah has been praying at the tabernacle in Shiloh. Eli the priest saw only her lips move and accused her of being drunk, and her answer became one of the clearest pictures of prayer in the Bible.
The phrase Hannah uses became a standard Bible expression for prayer that is not merely said but meant. It describes intensity, not volume.
"The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working" (James 5:16). Cold prayers, like cold suitors, never get anywhere. Prayer without fervency is like a sacrifice without a fire. Prayer is called a "pouring out of the soul" to show its intensity (1 Sam. 1:15). Formality starves prayer.
What she empties out is her grief. She holds nothing back and tidies nothing up first.
How often we carry our sorrows instead of pouring them out before the One who came into this world of weeping, to bear our griefs and carry our sorrows. Have we a secret sorrow? Have we an adversary who provokes us bitterly (verse 6)? Is there anything or anyone that makes our spirits fret (verse 6)? Anything that grieves our hearts (verse 8)? Anything that fills the soul with bitterness and the eyes with tears (verse 10)? Then let us pour out our souls before the Lord and He will pour in His peace.
Hannah's denial about wine is not the main thing she wants Eli to grasp. She wants him to know what kind of person he is looking at — and the contrast with his accusation is total.
Hannah's reply to Eli was most beautiful and precious. Completely unlike the effects of liquor, she was a woman of sorrowful spirit who had poured out her soul before the Lord. She pleads with him not to consider her a daughter of Belial, a virtual enemy of the Lord, for the facts were quite the opposite.
The term she pleads against is not a family name but a label for a certain kind of person:
The Hebrew word means "worthless, lawless." It is not a proper name. It stands as a personification of evil, so we have "son of Belial," "daughter of Belial," and so on. Deut. 13:13; Judges 19:22; 1 Sam. 1:16; 1 Sam. 25:17, 25; and others.
Commentators point out where God places the failure in this scene: with the high priest himself.
Others went to worship there with their thank-offerings. She drew near with her tears, and there too she felt the provocation of her adversary just as keenly. But here is the remarkable feature of the story: God calls our attention to the high priest himself, who did not share His mind. The one who should above all have entered into the greatest difficulties of God's people was in this case among the last to understand her.
Others note this is a repeated pattern, not a one-off blunder.
This is not the only time people have judged those moved by the Spirit to be drunk with wine. It happened again at Pentecost twelve hundred years later. The "spiritual man" is always thought "mad" by those who know nothing of the power of God moving the soul.
Hannah could have answered by pointing at Eli's own sons. She does not.
She addresses him with all the respect due to his age and office. She does not answer back by reminding him of the failures of his sons. She does not tell him to look to his own house before he rushes to accuse and condemn others. No, nothing of this; true to her name, she bends again, and tells the aged priest the story of her grief, if not its cause.
Between verse 7 and verse 18 nothing outward moves. Hannah is still childless when she leaves. Yet she leaves a different woman.
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.
- Poured out — prayer with real force behind it. Formality starves prayer; Hannah empties her grief out instead of tidying it up.
- Misjudged — the one man who should have known prayer when he saw it called it drunkenness. Others made the same mistake at Pentecost.
- Answered meekly — she could have shamed Eli about his own sons. Instead she told him her grief.
- Not a daughter of Belial — the word means worthless and lawless. Hannah asks Eli not to count her among the Lord's enemies; the facts were the opposite.
- Peace poured in — her circumstances did not change, but she did. The sorrow went out and God's peace came in.
Take not thy handmaid for a daughter of Belial for out of the abundance of my grief and provocation have I spoken hitherto.
Hannah has been praying silently at Shiloh, and the priest Eli has read her moving lips as the sign of a drunk woman. Her reply here is a strange kind of defence. She denies the charge, names her real condition, and never attacks the man who accused her.
Where the ESV says "worthless woman," older translations read "daughter of Belial." The phrase Hannah rejects is a description of character, not a name:
The Hebrew word means "worthless, lawless." It is not a proper name. It is used as a picture of evil itself, so we have "son of Belial, daughter of Belial," and the like. Deut. 13:13; Judges 19:22; 1 Sam. 1:16; 1 Sam. 25:17, 25; and others. In the New Testament it stands in contrast to Christ, as if it meant Satan, 2 Cor. 6:15.
One writer shows how far that verdict was from the truth:
Hannah's reply to Eli was most beautiful and precious. Her state was the very opposite of the effects of drink. She was a woman of sorrowful spirit who had poured out her soul before the Lord. She pleads with him not to think of her as a daughter of Belial, a virtual enemy of the Lord. The facts were quite the opposite.
Eli's mistake went deeper than the facts. His office called for something he never gave:
Eli was a stranger to such exercise of soul. He sat on a seat by a post of the temple, in effect sitting as a judge rather than standing as priest. He saw Hannah's lips move as she prayed silently, and made the sad blunder of judging that she was drunk. He knew how to reprove her. He did not give the help and compassion which was the very purpose of priesthood (Heb. 5:1-2).
Hannah was not the last person misread this way, and her reply kept its respect:
She spoke in her heart, but Eli only watched her mouth. He judged by what he saw, and decided she had been drinking. This is not the only time that people moved by the Spirit were judged to be drunk with wine. It happened again at Pentecost twelve hundred years later. Those who know nothing of the power of God moving the soul always think the "spiritual man" is "mad." "How long will you go on being drunk? Put your wine away from you," the old man harshly calls to her. Notice her meek reply... She speaks to him with all the respect due to his age and office. She does not answer back by reminding him of the failures of his sons. She does not tell him to look to his own house before he rushes to accuse and condemn others.
Years later she brought the child back to Eli at the tabernacle, the tent where Israel worshipped. She still made nothing of the insult:
She does not say, "I am the woman you misjudged so rashly at the door of the tabernacle. This is the child I was praying for when you charged me with drunkenness." No, there is nothing of this. Her triumph is in God, as one who knows Him as the generous Giver of all good.
Hannah calls herself Eli's servant instead of using her own name. The word has a settled use across Scripture:
These words often refer in Scripture to a female slave, as applied to Hagar the Egyptian, Gen. 25:12; but they were also used by women themselves as a term of humility, as when Hannah spoke to Jehovah and to Eli, 1 Sam. 1:11, 16, 18; as Abigail spoke to David, 1 Sam. 25:24-41; and by Mary and Elizabeth as handmaids of the Lord. Luke 1:38, 48.
The leader of her nation misread her. That was a fresh sorrow on top of the old one, and it left her asking for one thing:
Poor Hannah was full of bitterness and wept a great deal. One resource remained: to lay her affliction before the Lord. Only God's heart could answer her in grace, so she presents herself before Him at Shiloh. A new trial awaits her there. She meets the lack of understanding in the spiritual leader of her people. He confuses the work of the Spirit of God with the work of the flesh, and believes she is drunk when she is in fact in anguish. What suffering! She has no resource within herself; the world is hostile to her; those who bear the Lord's name judge her and do not understand her!... but what she needs is a sign of God's favour; what she needs is "grace!"
- Misjudged. Eli watched her lips and reached the worst possible verdict. He sat as a judge where he should have stood as priest, reproving without compassion.
- Named. The "worthless woman" of this verse is a "daughter of Belial" — lawless, an enemy of the Lord. Hannah was the exact opposite.
- Answered. She replies with respect, denies the charge, and never throws Eli's own sons back in his face.
- Lowered. She calls herself his servant, the same word of humility used by Abigail, Mary and Elizabeth.
- Sustained. When God's own people misread her grief, one request was left worth making: grace.
And Eli answered and said, Go in peace; and the God of Israel grant thee thy petition which thou hast asked of him.
Israel's high priest has just accused Hannah of being drunk while she prayed. Her quiet answer turns the rebuke into a blessing — so what is a blessing worth when the man who speaks it is failing?
Eli had misread Hannah. Her honest reply reaches something in him, and he speaks for God, not for himself.
Eli has enough conscience — he is, after all, a true servant of God — for the language of truth to carry weight with him. It makes him reverse his first impression. He blesses Hannah on God's behalf (v. 17).
Commentators differ on how to read Eli here. Rossier sees a true servant recovering himself. Fereday sees a man who could not tell sorrow from drunkenness, and whose blessing came out thin.
Of all people, this man should have been in close touch with God. Yet he was so far out of communion with Him that he could not tell a sorrowful woman from a drunken one. God's priest should be both compassionate and sympathetic (Heb. 5:2). The risen Christ is all this and more; Eli, sadly, was only a poor shadow of Him. When Hannah corrected him, all he could vaguely say was, "Go in peace, and the God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to Him."
This misjudgement did not end with Hannah.
This was not the only time that people moved by the Spirit have been judged to be drunk with wine. It happened again at Pentecost, twelve hundred years later. Those who know nothing of the power of God moving the soul always think the spiritual man is mad.
She could have thrown the charge back at him and pointed to his sons. She did neither.
She addresses him with all the respect due to his age and office. She does not answer back by reminding him of his sons' failures. She does not tell him to look to his own house before rushing to accuse and condemn others. No, nothing of this... Her deserved reward is an answer of peace. She does not despise the blessing of a man who a moment before had charged her falsely. At that time he was God's highest representative on earth. She took his blessing as the voice of God to her soul, little as he may have understood it himself, and she went on her way rejoicing.
Nothing in Hannah's situation had changed when she left. No child, no sign, only a sentence spoken over her — and that was enough.
Hannah's faith lays hold of grace at once, even before receiving its effects. "And the woman went her way, and ate, and her face was no longer as before" (v. 18). This assurance of faith is enough to strengthen her heart and fill her with a joy that everyone can see.
God worked on the woman before He worked on her circumstances.
Hannah found this long ago. In her deep trial she could say, "I have poured out my soul before the Lord." As a result, we read, "Her face was no longer sad." Yet at that moment her circumstances were exactly the same. Later the Lord did change her circumstances. But first He showed that He had the power to change Hannah. By making her requests known to God, she passed from grief of heart and bitterness of soul into great peace — the peace of God that surpasses all understanding (1 Samuel 1:6-18).
Assurance is not the same as delivery. The answer was certain; the timing was not.
I believe there are times when we pray and know that our prayer has been heard and will be answered. I can humbly say I have known this in my own experience. All we have to do is wait patiently until the Lord's time comes. I often say there are three answers to our prayers: yes, no, and wait. It is the waiting that is the testing time.
The blessing stayed with Hannah long after the day it was spoken.
We can judge how deep the comfort and consolation of these words went into that wounded heart. Several years later she herself uses almost these very words.
- Poured out — Hannah took her grief to God, and that is where the change began.
- Spoken over — a failing priest still spoke a true blessing. She took it as God's voice, not as one man's opinion.
- Peace first — nothing around her had changed, yet her face had. God changed Hannah before He changed her situation.
- Then waiting — the assurance came first, the child came later. Yes, no and wait are all real answers, and waiting is the testing one.
- Given back — years later Hannah was still speaking almost the same words herself.
And she said, Let thy bondwoman find grace in thy sight. And the woman went her way, and did eat, and her countenance was no more [as before].
Hannah came to worship crushed by years of childlessness, and left eating again with the sadness gone from her face. Nothing in her situation had changed — so what did change, and how can a person be lifted before the answer comes?
Earlier in the chapter Hannah is weeping and refusing food. Here she eats. One commentator asks what caused the change. He rules out the obvious answer first.
What a contrast. In verse 7 Hannah cannot eat, and weeps bitterly in bitterness of soul. In verse 18 "the woman 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 that she had poured out her soul before the Lord... Her sorrow is poured out and God's peace is poured in.
The same writer notes the order: God dealt with Hannah before He dealt with her circumstances.
And yet, at the time, her circumstances were just the same. Afterwards, indeed, the Lord changed her circumstances, but first He showed that He had the power to change Hannah.
Here Hannah is speaking to Eli, and she calls herself his servant. She had already used that word twice in this chapter — once to God in her vow, once to Eli. A Bible dictionary explains what women meant by it.
These words often refer in scripture to a female slave, as applied to Hagar the Egyptian, Gen. 25:12; but were also used by women themselves as a term of humility, as when Hannah spoke to Jehovah and to Eli, 1 Sam. 1:11, 16, 18; as Abigail to David, 1 Sam. 25:24-41; and by Mary and Elizabeth as handmaids of the Lord. Luke 1:38, 48.
No child had come. No sign had appeared. She carried away one sentence from Eli, and she treated it as enough.
Hannah's faith at once lays hold of grace even before receiving its effects... This assurance of faith is enough to strengthen her heart and fill her with a joy that is visible to all.
Another commentator looks at the man whose words she trusted.
He does not even ask why she is sad. He simply sends her away "in peace," with the wish that the God of Israel would grant her request. But even though Eli showed no real interest, she takes his words as coming from the Lord. That is a precious sign of her faith. Her sadness lifted, and she went back to normal living.
One writer applies this to every burden we carry, and then points to Jesus at prayer.
As we pour out our complaint and roll our burden on the Lord, He lifts the burden. Our sorrow and distress turns into the peace that passes all understanding... So it was with Hannah. That peace, beyond understanding, kept her soul and changed her face. It reminds us of our own blessed Lord. "As He prayed, the appearance of His face was altered." I know the meaning there is quite different, and those circumstances were special and extraordinary. But in a certain sense it is true of us too. As we pray — truly pray — the look on our face changes.
In the next verse Hannah worships. One writer lists the troubles that should send us the same way.
Do we have a secret sorrow? An adversary who provokes us deeply (verse 6)? Anything or anyone that makes our spirits fret (verse 6)? Anything that grieves our hearts (verse 8)? Anything that fills the soul with bitterness and the eyes with tears (verse 10)? Then let us pour out our souls before the Lord and He will pour in His peace. And a glad heart will make a glad face... The heart at peace, and filled with the gladness of the Lord, is the heart that worships.
- Poured out. Hannah emptied her bitterness before the Lord. Her situation had not changed; her prayer was the turning point.
- Poured in. Her sorrow went out and God's peace came in — the exchange happened while she was still the barren woman.
- Taken on trust. She received Eli's blessing as the word of God, though he never even asked what was wrong.
- Shown in the face. The peace did not stay hidden. She ate again, and her joy was there for all to see.
- Ended in worship. A glad heart makes a glad face, and the heart at peace is the heart that goes on to worship.
And they rose up early in the morning and worshipped before Jehovah, and returned and came to their house at Ramah. And Elkanah knew Hannah his wife; and Jehovah remembered her.
Hannah had wept and prayed, and others had misjudged her; no sign had yet come that God had heard. Now she rises early with her husband to worship, goes home to Ramah, and finds her prayer answered word for word.
Hannah poured out her sorrow before the Lord, and her face changed before the child came. One writer asks what we should do with grief, and ends with the worship of this verse.
How often we carry our sorrows instead of pouring them out before the One who came into this world of weeping. He came to bear our griefs and carry our sorrows. Have we a secret sorrow? An adversary who provokes us bitterly? Anything or anyone that makes our spirits fret? Anything that grieves our hearts? Anything that fills the soul with bitterness and the eyes with tears? Then let us pour out our souls before the Lord and He will pour in His peace. And a glad heart will make a glad face. As we read, "her face was no longer sad." The heart at peace, filled with the gladness of the Lord, is the heart that worships. So with Hannah we read that she "worshiped before the LORD."
Nothing had happened yet. Hannah held only the word spoken to her, and she treated it as enough. That is why she rises to worship before anything has changed.
Hannah's night of mourning is over. The word had gone out: "The God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to Him." As yet there was no sign or token, but she rested in the spoken word. The words about her New Testament counterpart fit her too: "Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord" (Luke 1:45).
The verse puts worship, the journey home, and the marriage in one line. One writer starts with that order and describes the home it makes.
The first thing is that husband and wife worship together. It is a happy thing when the home has this character. Husband and wife give themselves to the Lord's interests. They can worship together, pray together, and think about the Lord's interests together. What a happy home that is! The Lord's blessing is there. There is a response to the Lord. They care for the Lord's interests there, and the Lord is welcome in a home like that... Think of a God who hears our prayers and takes account of the motives and the desires.
Hannah had asked God to remember her. Scripture uses her own word when it reports what God did. The order matters: she learns to worship first, and then her circumstances change.
First she learned that the Lord can sustain her in the circumstances and make her a worshipper despite them. Then the mercy of the Lord changes the circumstances by granting what she asked. She had prayed, "O LORD of hosts... remember me"; now we read, "the LORD remembered her." She gets a son — the boy she had asked for. The child that she receives from the Lord she gives back to the Lord.
She had waited a long time. That long wait makes the outcome unmistakable.
They returned to Ramah, and very soon she conceived a child. For we read, "the LORD remembered her." At his birth she named him "Samuel," meaning "asked of God." She had waited long, but faith can afford to wait. God answered in His own time, and the evidence was clear that this was His sovereign work.
One writer points to the meaning of Hannah's home town and to what her waiting cost.
Hannah is the one who represents the work of God. She lives at Ramathaim-zophim, "the heights of watching." She is watching for what God will do, and the concerns of her heart match what she sees... We may have to wait. We may have to pass through reproach and misunderstanding, suffering and perhaps persecution as Hannah did. But depend on it: if the concerns of our hearts line up with the light God has given, He will answer.
- Pour out — Carrying sorrow helps no one. Pour it out before God and He pours in His peace, and the glad heart shows in a glad face.
- Then worship — Hannah worshipped before she had any proof. God first made her a worshipper in her circumstances, then altered them.
- Rest on the word — With no sign or token, she rested in the spoken word. Her night of mourning was over before the answer came.
- Worship together — Husband and wife worship, pray, and care for the Lord's interests together. The Lord is welcome in a home like that.
- Remembered — She prayed "remember me," and Scripture records, "the LORD remembered her." Faith can afford to wait. God answers in His own time, and the long delay shows the work was His.
And it came to pass when the time was come about after Hannah had conceived, that she bore a son, and called his name Samuel, [saying,] Because I have asked him of Jehovah.
A childless woman had poured out her grief at the sanctuary. The answer arrives as a baby with a name that tells the whole story. One ordinary birth in one ordinary home became a turning point for a whole nation.
She had waited long, but the timing of the answer belonged to God. One writer ties the birth back to the words of the verse just before: the LORD remembered her.
They returned to Ramah. Very soon she conceived a child, for Scripture says, "the LORD remembered her." At his birth she named him "Samuel," meaning "asked of God." She had waited long, yet faith can afford to wait. God answered in His own time, and the evidence was clear that this was His sovereign work.
Hannah's mourning ended before there was any sign of a child. She had nothing but a word spoken to her.
The night of Hannah's mourning is ended. The word had gone out: "the God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to Him." She still had no sign or token. Yet she rested in the spoken word. We can say of her what Scripture says of her New Testament counterpart: "Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord" (Luke 1:45).
The name "Samuel" is read two ways: "asked of God" and "heard by God." One writer keeps both, and follows the name into the man Samuel became.
His mother, Hannah, had asked for a son, and God had granted her request. She gave him the name 'Samuel', which means 'asked of God' or 'heard by God'. Both were true. She asked for him, and God heard and answered her prayer. She also passed on to her son her own sense of the value of fervent prayer. Samuel was a man of prayer, as seen in the occasions on which he interceded for Israel.
Hannah did not name the child after herself, her husband, or her relief. She named him after the asking and the answer. Every use of his name repeated that story.
Getting what she asked for was not the end for Hannah. The gift itself became something to give back.
Here was a true heart. To such a person, blessing from God was only the occasion, and also the means, of returning that blessing to Him. Jehovah was the object of her soul. Who can suppose that there was any lack of affection for Samuel? She gave Samuel all the affection her heart could give a child, and a child born like this. But she held him with something more: a special sense of what the Lord had proved Himself to be to her in giving him.
Hannah's ache was personal, but it was not only personal. She lived at a time when the priest's own sons were trampling on the worship of the Lord.
The birth of Samuel filled a great blank. It filled the heart of Hannah, and no doubt the heart of every faithful Israelite who longed for the true interests of the Lord's house and the purity of the Lord's offering. The godless sons of Eli disregarded and trampled on both. In Hannah's desire for a son, we see not merely the heart of a mother, but that of an Israelite.
Her private grief did not stay private.
In the hidden and bitter exercises of soul that this godly, unknown woman went through lay the beginning of revival for Israel. A praying woman brought in, in the ways of God, a new era.
- Asked — Hannah named her son for her request, not for her relief. The name itself said she had asked God for him.
- Heard — the birth came from God remembering her, not from time or nature. She had waited long, but faith can afford to wait.
- Trusted — her sorrow lifted while she still had no sign. She rested on the word spoken to her, like the woman later called blessed for believing.
- Returned — the blessing became the means of giving that blessing back to God. Her love for the child lost nothing.
- Multiplied — one unknown woman's hidden grief filled a blank in every faithful heart in Israel. Her praying opened a new era for the nation.