In today’s Torah reading, we learn that Sarah has trouble conceiving, and instructs Abraham to be with her handmaiden Hagar, who then gives birth to Ishmael. Hagar lords motherhood over Sarah which makes Sarah resentful, and although years later, Sarah miraculously gives birth to Isaac, she still feels insecure and starts scheming to secure Isaac’s status in the family hierarchy, and has Abraham banish Hagar and Ishmael into the wilderness with limited provisions.
Today’s Haftarah also pits two women against one another over fertility issues, Hannah and Peninah, the wives of Elkanah. Hannah can’t bear children, which devastates her. Peninah, on the other hand, is fertile, and lords this over Hannah. Elkanah tries to reassure Hannah and tells her that she is worth more than 10 sons, but Hannah cannot be consoled, and prays intensely, with bitter tears. She bargains with God – if God gives her a son, then she will offer him for priestly service.
Hannah’s way of praying grabs the attention of Eli the priest who notices that her lips are moving but without sound, and so he accuses her of drunkenness. Hannah explains that she is not drunk but rather praying intently. Eli believes her and gives her a blessing: לְכִי לְשָׁלוֹם (lechi l’shalom) – go in peace – and assures her that God will grant her request. And Hannah bears a son.
There is another parallel between the two biblical narratives, regarding making an offering of the son with first-born status. In the case of Hannah, she willingly makes an offering of her son Samuel to priestly service. With Sarah and Abraham’s son Isaac, it is more complicated and one of the most problematic stories in Torah. God commands Abraham to take a knife to Isaac and offer him as a sacrifice. Thankfully an angel intervenes, and Isaac is spared. When Sarah hears that her precious son had almost been sacrificed, she dies of shock.
In comparing the two stories of making an offering of the first-born son, we see differences in the states of consciousness of the two mothers in question. Hannah doesn’t give into the pettiness and jealousy that we see in Sarah’s treatment of Hagar. Hannah doesn’t have Elkanah banish Peninah and Peninah’s children. Instead, Hannah turns to faith whereas Sarah’s faith appears questionable. Upon overhearing the angels tell Abraham that she will conceive a child in her old age, Sarah laughs; it seems that Sarah had given up on her dream and loses faith. Hannah, on the other hand, does not give up, she does not laugh, but cries bitterly and prays.
We read in Talmud (Brachot 32b): “From the day that the Temple was destroyed the gates of prayer have been closed, but the gates of tears are not closed.” The Ralbag of medieval France adds that combining prayer and tears brings one closer to God.
In other words, our feelings count, our tears count, our grief counts.
Through Hannah’s tears, vulnerability and authenticity, she draws closer to God, and to her emotional and spiritual truth. She keeps the conversation going; she bargains and promises to make an unselfish offering in service of the community. No animals, no people were slaughtered or sacrificed on an altar; the power of words and the power of tears were used instead.
Hannah’s story teaches us that our feelings count and asks us to examine how the yearnings of our heart can be turned into offerings. What we want and what we long for, what we are grieving over can crack our hearts open and inspire us toward generosity, sharing and giving. The story of Hannah encourages us to be in conversation with our own hearts and not stifle that inner voice.
The rabbis of the Talmudic period were so affected by Hannah, that they said (Berachot 31) we must all move our lips when we pray. We do this together, as a community. Our individual yearnings, our individual conversations with God, that flow from our own hearts, are held together with the individual yearnings and conversations with God that flow from the hearts of the people sitting next to you, and the people sitting next to those people.
In this space, we yearn as unique individuals and we yearn together. We cry as individuals, and we cry together.
The contrast and parallels between Sarah and Hannah’s stories have a lot to teach us. We can see that our biblical ancestors were capable of evolving from one generation to the next. Through her deep, authentic prayer Hannah makes a tikkun on Sarah’s pettiness and jealousy. Hannah changes the paradigm and breaks a cycle of dysfunction by transmuting her suffering in a more enlightened way, that is not only good for her, but for future generations.
None of us had perfect parents nor perfect ancestors; none of us are perfect human beings. Reviewing our developmental and family history safely, with softness and compassionate curiosity, allows us to see patterns of conditioning and shaping. Some of us may find it useful to do this in a professional therapeutic setting. Some of us may prefer to journal, meditate, go for cranial sacral treatments or Reiki. Some of us do all of that to walk the path of self-discovery, which is work worth doing and doing safely. It is the work of liberation and healing, not just for us, but for the future generations who stand on our shoulders.
Just as our biblical ancestors have evolved so can we. If they can break through cyclical dysfunctional patterns and find healthier ways of acting and being, so can we. These stories invite us to awaken to the dysfunctional patterns that we have absorbed because of personality, ethnicity, culture, history, tradition, and our very religion. These stories charge us to open our hearts and minds, to be bold, to challenge the status quo, and embrace the sacred wisdom of the past while at the same time release what is no longer working.
Hannah, spoke directly to the Source of Being. She did not go through a mediator or priest. She allowed herself to be vulnerable without apology, to stand in her authenticity with strength and resolve. She did not get rid of the competition nor abuse her privilege. She prayed with all her heart. She did not let her grief stifle her inner voice. She remained hopeful in her pain by continuing to be in conversation with God and as such, she elevated her consciousness and made a commitment to share the gift that she might receive, and in so doing she shifted the paradigm for all of us. Hannah’s story inspires us to move in this direction. Zichronah livrachah. Remember her and her story for she is a blessing for all of us. Learning from the contrast of her story and Sarah’s is a blessing for all of us. May we continue on the holy path of learning from our ancestors, for their sake, for our sake and for the sake of future generations.
