Power of Prayer (1 Samuel 1)

For some weeks now, in our church newsletter, the Fellowship News, there have appeared a series of articles on prayer. When Monica, our church secretary, showed these to me, I agreed that we could reprint them if space allowed. I figured they would get people thinking about prayer, which is usually a good thing.

This is not to say that I agreed wholeheartedly with everything in those articles. I didn’t. I don’t. But we don’t need to be afraid of those whose opinions are different than our own, do we? Besides, in reading those articles, I found myself thinking about prayer and about how I pray. The articles were stimulating. I discovered that I was engaging in conversation with the articles, in my mind, saying to myself, “Yes, I agree with that,” or, “No, I don’t agree with that,” and then asking myself, “What do I believe about prayer?”

I have found this inner conversation to be helpful. I hope you have, too.

The biggest disagreement I have with this series of articles is the title. The series is called, “The Proper Way to Pray.” I think that these articles describe a proper way to pray. I do not think that they describe the proper way to pray. I firmly believe that there are, in fact, many different ways to pray.

The first book of Samuel starts with a story about Hannah, one of a number of Old Testament women who are barren, but then, through divine intervention, bear offspring late in life. Tired of being tormented and ridiculed by others, tired of being sad and depressed, Hannah went to pray and plead to God that she might bear a child. Her prayer was sincere, but I don’t think anyone—not my seminary professors, not the author of those newsletter articles—would approve of the prayer she offered.

Hannah’s prayer seeks to strike a deal with God. “Oh, God, if you do this, then I will do that.” I know we often pray like this, but in the back of our minds, we feel guilty for doing so. It’s not really proper, is it? Surely God deserves better from us.

Hannah prays in such a way that Eli, the priest, accuses her of being drunk. How must one be praying in order to be mistaken for a drunk? And if the good priest doesn’t recognize the fact that you are praying, but instead mistakes it for a drunken spectacle, … Clearly, Hannah was not praying “the proper way.”

But there can be no denying that her prayer was from the heart. Apparently, with God, that counts for something. And so, her prayer had power; and she knew it. Her sadness went away, as soon as the prayer ended, even before God answered her prayer.

Eventually God did answer her prayer. Hannah gave birth to a son, whom she named Samuel. And when the time was right, she fulfilled her end of the bargain. She presented Samuel to the Lord.

So. Was that the right way to pray? We want to know, because we want our prayers to be right. We want to know, because we want our prayers to be effective, and powerful. And we’re never really sure if we’re doing it right. The Bible doesn’t really have a step-by-step how to pray instruction guide in it. It’s not exactly “Prayer for Dummies.” (“Prayer for Dummies” might be a better name for those newsletter articles, but I digress. And no, I don’t mean to be overly critical—those “for dummies” books can be wonderfully helpful. But still.)

What else can we say about Hannah’s prayer? Hannah’s prayer was spontaneous. It was extemporaneous. It was not a prayer that was composed ahead of time. It may not have demonstrated very good theology, but it was from the heart; and God did answer her prayer. God granted her request, despite the bad theology; which suggests that, perhaps, this way of praying is the proper way to pray.

But then: what happens next?

After Samuel is born, after he is weaned and begins serving the Lord, Hannah goes before the Lord and offers up another prayer. And this second prayer is nothing like that first prayer. Everything about it is different.

This second prayer is a finely polished, well composed prayer, written out in poetic form. It’s a psalm, and it appears here in the first book of Samuel as Hannah’s prayer, although parts of it certainly don’t sound like anything Hannah would have prayed for.

Listen:

My heart exults in the Lord; my strength is exalted in my God.*My mouth derides my enemies, because I rejoice in my* victory.

2There is no Holy One like the Lord,
no one besides you;
there is no Rock like our God.
3Talk no more so very proudly,
let not arrogance come from your mouth;
for the Lord is a God of knowledge,
and by him actions are weighed.
4The bows of the mighty are broken,
but the feeble gird on strength.
5Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,
but those who were hungry are fat with spoil.
The barren has borne seven,
but she who has many children is forlorn.
6The Lord kills and brings to life;
he brings down to Sheol and raises up.
7The Lord makes poor and makes rich;
he brings low, he also exalts.
8He raises up the poor from the dust;
he lifts the needy from the ash heap,
to make them sit with princes
and inherit a seat of honor.*
For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s,
and on them he has set the world.
9He will guard the feet of his faithful ones,
but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness;
for not by might does one prevail.
10The Lord! His adversaries shall be shattered;
the Most High* will thunder in heaven.
The Lord will judge the ends of the earth;
he will give strength to his king,
and exalt the power of his anointed.

This prayer is a psalm of thanksgiving, which does mention a barren woman bearing many children; but it also mentions rejoicing over one’s enemies, it mentions bows and arrows, it mentions princes and kings…. What do these things have to do with Hannah?

Nothing, actually.

So why did Hannah compose such a prayer?

She didn’t.

What she did, most likely, was go to the priest, explain her situation, and ask for a prayer of thanksgiving. The priest would then think about and look through all the prayers that were written on the scrolls that he had stored away. Eventually he’d come upon one that mentioned a barren woman having children. He’d say to himself, “Yeah, this will work.”

Actually, it’s not that different from what your church staff does each week when picking out hymns for worship.

Then the priest would bring the scroll out to Hannah. He’d unroll the scroll, and he’d read it out loud, since it’s doubtful that a woman like Hannah could read, although if she could, she might read along with him. She’d speak strongly, emotionally, the parts that pertained to her, and possibly she’d mumble through the parts that didn’t.

Which is not that different from what some of you do when you sing the hymns that have been selected for worship.

And then the priest would roll the scroll back up, and put it back on the shelf so that it would be ready the next time.

Hannah’s second prayer was not spontaneous. It wasn’t even Hannah’s. It was artistically beautiful, but it was off-the-shelf. Does that make it any less powerful?

Well, given the way it is featured so prominently here in the first book of Samuel, I’d say no. As it is presented here, this prayer was intended to be used over and over by people who wanted to combine their thoughts and prayers with the thoughts and prayers of others, by praying one, common prayer. And that can be a very powerful and effective way to pray.

So: two very different ways of praying. Neither is the proper way to pray. Both are acceptable to God.

Jesus prayed in many different ways. Growing up in the Jewish faith, he surely said his morning and evening prayers, which included the prayer known as the Shema, a prayer that we find in the sixth chapter of Deuteronomy. It is the most important prayer in Judaism, still said twice a day by Jews today. It begins: “Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.”

Jesus also prayed spontaneous prayers from the heart, prayers like the one he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane.

A third type of prayer Jesus prayed was the contemplative—or meditative—prayer. Sometimes Jesus would spend the whole night in prayer, most of it in silence, listening for that still small voice, discerning God’s will for him, seeking focus and clarity for in his life.

I don’t think that there’s any doubt that all three of these ways of praying are acceptable to God.

There is something else you should know about Hannah’s second, more formal prayer. The first king in Israel’s history would be anointed by Hannah’s son Samuel after he grew up and became a man. Before that time, there were no kings. While Samuel was a child, there were no kings. And yet, this prayer of Hannah mentions the king.

So probably, this prayer wasn’t even prayed by Hannah at all. The author of the first book of Samuel inserted this prayer in here after the fact. Most likely, there was no scroll containing this particular prayer from which Hannah or the priest could read in the presence of the Lord. There may have been other prayers, but not this one.

Does that make this prayer less powerful, less meaningful?

Many centuries later, the gospel of Luke would record that Mary, when she was pregnant with Jesus, sang a song of praise to the Lord. Mary’s song of praise is based on the prayer that is ascribed to Hannah. It’s not exactly the same, but it does bear a very close resemblance. What happened is that, over the centuries, that prayer took on a life of its own.

Now you could look at this in one of two different ways. You could think of it as a sham: that the person whose name is attached to the prayer didn’t write it, didn’t even pray it. Or you could think of it as a powerful yet mysterious wonder, that a prayer of unknown origin could have so much meaning and so much power to so many people in so many different ways.

There really is no one right way to pray, as long as you do it. As long as your heart is in it, as long as you are sincere; then your prayer is appropriate and acceptable to God.