even if the priest thinks you’re drunk

“Hey!” 

I turned around with a smile, trying to place who was speaking. Not recognizing anyone, I looked closer. The voice kept talking, walking towards me. Then I saw it– the earpiece in her ear. Then we did that silent, awkward exchange. The one where I grimaced because I realized she was on the phone, she nodded, knowing I misunderstood, and I held up a hand in acknowledgment. 

Oops.

It was probably wasn’t half as awkward as the priest Eli’s exchange with Hannah in First Samuel. When he saw her praying at the door of the tabernacle with such despair that no sound came out of her lips, he made his own quick assumption; she must be drunk.

I think The Message version puts the appropriate tone on the conversation. “You’re drunk! How long do you plan to keep this up? Sober up, woman!” (1 Samuel 1:14).

Poor Hannah. Fourteen verses into 1st Samuel, and she’s already been harassed by her husband’s other wife (that’s a blog post for another day), her pain minimized by her husband, and now, while pouring her heart out to God, a priest calls her a drunk. The author has made a fascinating literary choice to start this story with Hannah’s deep heartache.

If you’re reading the Bible like one long story, the book of Judges has just finished. Judges told the appalling tale of Israel’s brutal moral individualism (when everyone did what was right in their own eyes). For many, evil acts went unanswered, justice was a memory, and the oppressed were pushed to desperation. At the end of Judges, the curtain falls without a happy ending, and we all look for a ticket refund.

Turn the page after the Judges debacle (in the Hebrew Bible, the book of First Samuel follows Judges), and barren Hannah enters stage left. After the previous pages’ bloodshed, war, and terror, the spotlight shines on a barren woman sobbing at the tabernacle.

I love how the Bible uses contrasts that highlight the way God works. He is in the small, the faithful, the tired, the misunderstood. The big and bold have made the promised land a living hell, the future looks unredeemable, and the camera zooms in on a woman silently mouthing a prayer. 

In a world where Instagram reels and tik-toks are waving their arms for our attention, the quiet faithfulness of Hannah is a sweet encouragement. God’s not watching your social numbers. He’s not really that into your credentials or degrees. Sometimes faithfulness is in offering up your heartache to the right place. If you’re willing to do the small and courageous act of taking your disappointments and frustrations to Him, if you can push past being misunderstood and go to the One who gets you, then you will be seen. You will be heard. 

God sees you enter stage left, even if the priest thinks you’re drunk.