Twenty – Fifth Sunday after Pentecost Year B
Donna G. Joy

1 Samuel 1:4-20; 1 Samuel 2:1-10; Mark 13:1-8

Some of you will be familiar with the BBC television series, ‘The Midwife”, a drama about a group of nurse midwives working in the East End of London in the 1950’s and 1960’s. Viewers of this series get the opportunity to experience the stories of families/women in the process of bringing new life into the world. The characters in these stories represent people who have experienced the gift of new life in the midst of abject poverty; often living conditions that breed illness and decay; and life circumstances that offer very little hope for a better tomorrow. And these midwives are channels through which God’s wisdom and grace is made visible as they comfort and guide the mothers through pregnancy and labour, support their families, and help nurture the babies after they are born.

My husband, David, was often upstairs in our house as I was watching these episodes, and when the women would scream out in agony through their labour and delivery, the volume would often go up so much that – more than once - he came downstairs and ask if maybe I could turn it down. The sounds of these women in utter agony were somewhat more than he could bear. Over and over again, the sounds of these women would offer a profound reminder that the birthing process is painful, and hard, but that the gift of new life is a gift beyond measure.

Well, our readings this morning, speak of a God who is always creating new life – new hope - in the midst of the chaos, and labour of this life. Most often the process is painful... But God is always there, giving birth to something new. This theme begins with our first reading, where the story revolves around an important biblical figure named Hannah.

Hannah’s story takes place at a moment in history when Israel is in transition (there again, that word which we often associate with the birthing process); at this moment in history Israel is transitioning from a somewhat loose, fragmented system of judges, to a unified monarchal system. And through Hannah, God is up to something. God is creating (giving birth to) something new.

But to hear this part of Hannah's story, it is hard to believe that there is any hope at all of a new beginning, or a better tomorrow. Hannah – here – lives with the pain of not having been able to conceive and give birth to a child. Within that culture at that time, this was considered the source of profound public humiliation. Giving birth to a child was considered a woman's purpose in life, and so for those who were unable to fulfill this mandate life was unbearable, and painful beyond description. Hannah laboured through this deep humiliating pain, and suffered tremendously.

And, as if barrenness were not enough, it seems to me that Hannah also experienced profound loneliness. If we are experiencing something painful, it helps immeasurably if someone can hear our cries, and respond in ways that are sensitive and caring. It seems that Hannah did not enjoy the benefits of this kind of support. Her husband, Elkanah, just doesn't get it. He does what people often do when in the company of someone experiencing that kind of despair. Rather than listening, really listening to her, he immediately says something that he hopes will make her feel better. He says, “Am I not more to you than 10 sons?” Although it does seem that his intentions were good, he, in effect, minimizes her deep sense of sadness and profound lack of fulfillment and quickly rushes into a scenario that he hopes will ‘cheer her up.’ And, as I’m sure we all know, this never works.

Also, in addition to the loneliness of being with someone who was unable to listen, truly listen, and see into the heart of her despair, Elkanah’s other wife Peninnah had several sons and daughters, and often provoked Hannah – finding ways to diminish her because of her barren state. But Hannah laboured through this dark and lonely time. Rather than turning to destructive ways to deal with all this, like hate or revenge, Hannah turned to God, even though initially even the priest mocked her because something she did suggested to him that she was drunk. So now she is barren, lonely, and publically misunderstood. But still, she carries on, and finally the priest urges her to go forth in peace and in time, the new life she has longed for is given and received.

This is not a story about praying to God, and getting what we want; getting what we pray for. This is a story about God creating new life, new possibilities, in the midst of dark and lonely places. In many ways, Hannah could be seen as representing Israel, which within the context of this story is in a dark and lonely place, and through the gift of new life, through the gift of Hannah’s son, Samuel, Israel was born into a new day.

Indeed, the challenges of this life can be described as laborious times, and Hannah is a profound reminder that God is always creating something new in the midst of it all. Often we can’t see it; but God is always up to something good. When Hannah was in the depths of loneliness and despair, she could never have imagined that God would work in her as He did, but I hope this is a reminder to each of us that when we experience those times, God too is preparing to give birth to something new.

And, then, interestingly, our Gospel this morning speaks of the beginning of birth pangs. This passage begins with the disciples pointing out how grand and impressive the buildings of the temple are. But Jesus’ response would have been quite surprising to them, as he says that the time is coming when not one stone will be left; when all will be thrown down; demolished. But somehow, through this destruction, something new will be born. Many will claim to follow in Jesus’ name, but his followers must remain firm in their commitment as His followers.

Jesus goes on to say, “When you hear of wars and rumours of wars, do not be alarmed; this much take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.” Through all this painful and extended labour, something new is about to be born. The world is going to be plunged into convulsions, Jesus says; and his followers, called like him to live at that place where the purposes of God and the pain of the world cross paths with each other, will find themselves caught up in those convulsions. Jesus is about to die a painful death on the cross, that central place where the purposes of God and the pain of the world cross paths... but in the midst of all that pain and disappointment, God is creating something new in his resurrection. And that state of resurrection carries on, as we labour through personal and global trials, hopeful that God has promised to create new life out of these birth pangs; and the God we worship is faithful to the promises God makes.

Individually, we experience deeply disturbing circumstances that cause us to feel disappointment and despair. I’m fairly certain that most of us here carry with us our own brand of pain that we labour through day after day; that we labour through – sometimes – silently, and perhaps privately, as did Hannah. My hope today is that we may be reminded that this pain we labour through may be seen as the beginning of birth pangs, through which God is preparing to give birth to new hope, new possibilities, new life in unimaginable ways.

As a church, I know we sometimes allow ourselves to slip into a state of quiet despair... remembering back to the 50’s and 60’s when large new buildings with large impressive stones were popping up in great grandeur and astonishing numbers, when Sunday Schools were full of children, when budgets were always easily balanced with lots of funds left over for extra expenses, when pews were full of people who often automatically attended church, because that’s what people in their family had always done... Well, in many places these large impressive stones and large buildings are a mere shadow of their former selves, and this is a source of pain for those connected to them; much like those connected to the temple referred to in our Gospel. But I believe that all this is nothing less, nothing more, than painful, arduous birth pangs. Jesus, I believe, is remaining true to his promise to create something new out of the dust, disappointment, and decay.

In some of the more unexpected places, like St. Peter’s, Jesus is leading his followers to take seriously the importance of Christian education throughout the generational spectrum, Jesus is discerning leadership that will discover creative ways to ensure Christian formation, worship, mission and outreach into the future. Through all of this, I believe that Jesus is giving birth to something new, and exciting.

As a global community, we are often reminded that nation continues to rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom... Hundreds of thousands of people continue to die violent deaths in such places as Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, Nigeria, Southern Sudan... and the list goes on... We have heard, this week, of a roadside bombing in Baghdad, killing 26 people, and injuring 61; and we have heard, this week, of a series of terrorist attacks in Paris, killing (what I believe is about) 127 people and injuring some 180. It is impossible to fully imagine the pain and devastation that is felt among those who have suffered the death of family members of friends through such terrifying and violent circumstances; those who were injured and those who love them; those who were present when these terrible events occurred, avoiding physical attack, yet living the rest of their lives with the memory.

Of course, these events have caused some to suggest that this kind of incident is why we must rethink decisions made on sponsoring refugees into European and North American countries. And the growing tendency to rail against this mindset is where I see God giving birth to something new in the midst of all this destruction. In an interview on CBC this morning with a professor on Peace Studies in England, the point was made that of course individuals with such a corrupt agenda will attempt to use this method for getting in, but that does NOT mean we should close the doors to those who are deserving. It simply means that we must more fully develop good and thorough methods of discernment. He acknowledges that while there are no easy answers, the doors must be kept open.

The terrible and terrifying attacks in Paris have motivated church leaders from around the world to unite, and stand in solidarity, as together, they offer prayers, and send messages of comfort and hope. I am suggesting that the birth pangs of this past week may have the potential to mend bridges, rather than further tear people apart. I see Muslims from around the world making it clear that ISIS does not represent their values, or their belief system. We have been given the opportunity to be reminded that the actions of a few extremists do not represent those who are committed to justice and peace. These terrible and terrifying events may be giving birth to a renewed sense of unity among those who long for justice and peace.

Indeed, the birthing process is often long, and hard. Moving from places of deep, dark, despair into the dawn of new light and new life is painful. May we learn to see all this as the beginning of birth pangs as we – ourselves – give birth to the love of the Prince of Peace; as we carry this love into our hearts, our homes, our work places, our communities; may we learn to see all the conflict that exists here at home and further away as the beginning of birth pangs as we reflect on God’s promise of new life.

Let us pray:
God of peace, we pray for all people who suffer from the pain and devastations of this life: those here at home; those in the church; those throughout the world; and – this week in particular - those in such places as Baghdad, and Paris. May those who have died rest in peace and rise in glory... May your birthing process flourish as your peace breaks through violence, your love conquers fear. May your justice prevail... Amen.