Today’s readings feature two individuals who have a few things in common.  Both are tormented souls.  For both, their troubles lead them to the house of the Lord.  Both likely felt alienated from society – or at least endured criticism and ridicule.  And both received healing.

We don’t know a lot about the man who encountered Jesus – what his demons were, how long he had suffered, the form of this suffering, or what happened to him after he encountered Jesus, or even his name.  We know more about Hannah, though, since the book of I Samuel opens with her story.  Married to and greatly loved by Elkanah, she was unable to have children until God answered her heartfelt prayer.  After her firstborn, Samuel, was born, Hannah kept her promise to dedicate the son’s life to serving God.  She took the boy to live and serve at the Temple, and the prayer she raised at that time is one of the most beautiful in Scripture.  The last mentions we have of Hannah tell us that she visited her son each year when Elkanah came to offer his annual sacrifice and that she was blessed with five more children.  We also know that the first child, Samuel, went on to become a great prophet and a key figure in the Israel’s shift from the rule of judges to the rule of kings.

But our focus today is on the disconsolate Hannah.  The first eight verses of I Samuel tell us that Hannah was the favorite of Elkanah’s two wives, and her husband adored her even though she had not been able to have children.  The verses also tell us that Penninah, Elkanah’s other wife, had children, and Penninah repeatedly brought Hannah to tears with cruel taunts about how the Lord had closed Hannah’s womb and made her barren.  So we find Hannah praying from a place of “deep sorrow and misery.”  Even though Hannah was the most deeply loved of the two wives, she believed herself inadequate – and focused on that.  Perhaps Penninah’s words stung more because they reflected society’s views of women as mothers, with the corollary that non-child-bearing women were deficient/cursed – and stung more because it was a view to which Hannah herself likely subscribed.  Perhaps she found her husband’s love bittersweet because she thought she had let him down and was unworthy of his caring.  She was in a dark place.

This portion of the Hannah story reminds me that many of my siblings in Christ are hurting and feeling alone.  Being in the church does not make us immune to despair and depression.  In our dark moments, we may define ourselves by our shortcomings – and assume that everyone else does, too.  We may feel “exiled” by society, either for a mistake we have made but possibly (like Hannah) through no fault of our own.  Some may hide their pain in public, but the hurt is no less real. 

It is helpful for me to remember that our ever-present, loving God offers hope; and that we who follow Christ and have the Holy Spirit in us are often the instruments of that hope.  It is incumbent on me – on each one of us – to shine the light of love for those who are in their dark moments.  We may not know what to say, but just reaching out lets those folks know they are not alone, and the divine sparks in us may light the divine spark in them.

Loving God, we find our hope in you and we place our trust in you.  Holy Spirit, fill us to overflowing so that we show your love to all we encounter.