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Marc Chagall (1956):
Hannah prays to the Lord for a son who will be Samuel
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My page titled Who Are Hannah and Sarah? consistently gets the second highest number of views on this blog, besides the main page. It makes sense: neither are my name so the page outlines from where the inspiration for my blog title came and in what lens I first approached the news of my own infertility diagnosis. In short, the stories of Hannah and Sarah provide a unique juxtaposition of the issue of barren women in the Torah; for me, these stories serve as a model for infertile women in Judaism.
As I’ve come to terms with my infertility over the last two years, my faith and my infertility continue to contextualize one another. I’d like to write about some of the key players in my spiritual journey: our ancient infertile mothers – our Jewish Matriarchs and other key women in the Torah. I’d like to start an ongoing series with a few posts a month exploring various aspects of infertility in the Torah.
I hope you’ll read along and I’ll do my best to explain everything so it’s approachable for anyone who reads this blog. I’m not here to push any kind of religious agenda; I’m just trying to explore my faith and see what lessons we can glean from a historical biblical perspective.
Tuesday night I had the privilege to attend a really engaging, deeply meaningful program at Mayyim Hayyim, a progressive mikveh and Jewish education center in Newton. The topic was “Infertility, Matriarchs and Ritual.” One of the presenters was a rabbi who offered some truly thought-provoking exploration on the story of Hannah. She noted that three of Judaism’s four Matriarchs: Sarah, Rebecca, and Rachel – were each infertile and the prominence of Hannah’s story in the Torah as well.
What struck so much with me was what she said next: “And those are just the ones who made it in.” Like all holy texts, the Torah was hardly exempt from (patriarchal!) editing through the centuries. In some ways, we are lucky that the story of infertility even made it in the Torah at all. It’s a thoughtful inclusion when G-d’s first commandment is to Adam and Eve are “be fruitful and multiply.”
As long as humankind has been havin’ babies, there have always been those who can’t. The Torah could have been very unkind to these ancient barren women by casting them in a harsh light or omitting their stories entirely, but their stories have been included to survive thousands of years. To me, that says that infertility is valued as a historical, cultural lesson within Judaism.
Interestingly enough – and this is really important here folks – the Torah never says that their infertility is the result of something they did or G-d’s punishment. Think about that for a minute.
There’s a really beautiful commentary in the Talmud (a body of ancient rabbinic commentary on the Torah) about how Hannah “spoke in her heart.” She prays silently, moving only her lips. The Rabbis in the Talmud give Hannah a strong voice, saying that she “spoke in her heart” the following:
She spoke concerning her heart. She said before Him: Sovereign of the Universe, among all the things that Thou hast created in a woman, Thou hast not created one without a purpose, eyes to see, ears to hear, a nose to smell, a mouth to speak, hands to do work, legs to walk with, breasts to give suck. These breasts that Thou hast put on my heart, are they not to give suck? Give me a son, so that I may suckle with them.
This particular commentary says something very profound about the fundamental nature of infertility: just as G-d created every part of our bodies, G-d too then created infertility. If a part of our bodies does not function in some way, G-d has fashioned that disfunction. Granted, this is a very modern interpretation of this Talmudic tract, as we live in an age where infertility is recognized as a medical issue. I’m not saying that infertility happens for a Divine reason or purpose, but I argue this commentary opens the door to say that infertility is as much of one of G-d’s creations as are our limbs, organs, or breath.
I have a lot more to say about Hannah, so I’ll leave you with a short homework assignment:
Read about the story of Hannah in the Torah and then come back here and share in the comments what part of her story resonated with you the most. I’ll use the discussion and comments to guide the next few posts in my “Infertile Women of the Torah” series. And remember, I’m not just looking for Jewish responses or approaches only – I’m looking for all views, religious or otherwise. Just think of Hannah as an infertility story just like any of ours. What sticks out for you?
I volunteered to teach the bible story in vacation bible school for a week this summer. Last night, we had our organizational planning meeting and I found out that the last night of VBS is centered on the story of Hannah. And, the moral of the story that the kids are supposed to learn is that "God gives you what you ask for."
I just don't know how I'm going to teach this to a bunch of kids when I don't believe it myself.
I absolutely love this series, and look forward to more posts!
I think the thing that stuck with me most was "Lord had shut up her womb."
Just so you know, I'm in the process of converting to Orthodox Christianity, so I'm learning but can't really claim to be confident in all points of view of that faith yet either.
On one hand, I hate the idea that God would have done this to me, or any woman. But I also know that sometimes we need adversity to push us into becoming better people, the people God wants us to become. But then that leads to me frantically thinking "What am I missing? What haven't I learned?" and it comes back to "what can I do, how can I control this?" and the fact is I think a lot of it is about me NOT having control.
Hi, came here by the ICLW, and I think I'll hang around :-).
As for the story of Hannah, well I never could understand how she could then give him up..
Hey Keiko, I don't really have any concrete thoughts to add to the discussion but wanted to let you know I'm reading and thoroughly enjoying the start to this series.
What is most amazing to me is her selflessness; though she desperately wants a child, she gives that child up.
But the story also sort of raises false hope; "the Lord had shut up her womb," and yet she goes on to conceive? What of the women who can't, who don't ever? Do they simply not pray hard enough?
It's a complicated story for me … though I still think Hannah is an inspirational figure.
Hi, my heart goes out to those who (like myself) cannot have a child of their own. I know that is very special, but if you are able to give your love, please consider all the children who desperately need a home. This is of course one's own personal decision and is not right for everyone, and I am not presuming to say it is.
I am writing a series about women in the Bible who have been given little attention, not even named. My first novel was Noah's Wife (we know only that she went into the ark), and I'm now working on Angles at the Gate: the story of Lot's wife. (only told she turned into a pillar of salt) and so have been reading a good bit about Sarai.
If you are interested: http://www.tkthorne.com
I am a Christian and have always appreciated Hannah's story. The part of Hannah's story that has always startled me the most is how she then "gives up" her son to God after a short time. She holds up her end of the bargain, so to speak, and Samuel goes on to live with Eli. She eventually does have other children (the text says), but after wishing and praying for so long for just one, I can't (personally) imagine giving that child up.
We see this with Sarah too, though (which I'm sure you'll get to). Isaac is supposed to be given up as a sacrifice by Abraham.
In both of these cases, whether it is a spiritual giving up of the "miracle" child or the physical giving up of them, it is difficult for me, an infertile woman, to grasp that kind of faith and sacrifice.
I so appreciate this. I knew in the back of my mind reading or hearing about hannah at Temple.
Ironically enough, this was always my favorite story in all of Tanach. And then, of course, I went on to marry someone named Shmuel. Go figure!
In any case, the part that really gets me is when she's praying and Eli thinks that she's drunk and chastises her. She didn't care that she wasn't praying in the "usual" way. She was praying with every fiber of her being, which is why her lips moved. And now that happens to be the way people pray, because we feel that it's the "best" way. I used to think that my prayers weren't being listened to, even though I was praying with my whole heart. Now I know that G-d was answering me but saying "Not yet" rather than "No."
Okay, I just read the story of Hannah. I'm not Jewish, I'm Christian, but I thought this was a good exercise. Here are my thoughts:
Hannah is depicted as a strong woman who is depressed. She cries and is "bitter in spirit" and she is haunted by her rival, her husband's other wife, who has been able to have children and makes her feel bad. In that way, I can totally relate (expect that my husband does not have 2 wives – only me). I see other women with babies and am jealous and angry and depressed.
The text mentions many times that "the Lord had shut up her womb" and that seems as though God is the one to blame for the infertility. Although there is no cause as to why Hannah has to go through this and no mention is made of her being punished or tested, it is still as though God caused this and only God can take it away. I don't know how I feel about that, but I know that I've prayed for years to get pregnant and never had the opportunity. I have changed things in my life, become more involved in church, etc. but I have not gotten what I've desperately wanted.
When Hannah does eventually have a baby, it is written that "the Lord remembered her" almost as if she was forgotten. I've heard old people who've lived well past 100 often say that they thought that they have lived so long because God had forgotten them. Does this mean that I'm also forgotten despite my prayer and church attendance?
The second to last verse sums it up well – "For this child did I pray, and the Lord granted me my request, which I asked of Him." Hannah is not angry or bitter anymore despite having waited a long time (although the time is never specified). I know that if I could just get pregnant and have a baby, I would feel the same way. I would still remember my struggles and those of other infertiles, but I would be happy.
However, the longer I wait and the more that I am disappointed in my prayers going unanswered, the more my faith in God waivers. And, if I were to get pregnant, I don't know if I would praise God for it. As much as I would want to, I feel very alone in this journey (like the Footsteps poem) and don't feel like God is with me. Therefore, giving him the Glory is maybe not earned. But, this is all a moot point if I don't have a baby, right?
Thanks for this exercise. Great way to get my thinking.