Theologians love this story because of the covenantal elements: a barren woman, a prayed-for child, a sacrificial firstborn son. Traditional readers will say the importance lies in teaching us to take our vows seriously and to fulfill any promise made to the Lord no matter how painful and difficult it may be; our devotion will be remembered and rewarded. But before we settle for a typological interpretation or merely thaw out a freeze-dried version and be done with it, let’s ask, how do we get inside this story and find meaning and significance for our life today?

On the face of it, Elkanah appears to be a contemporary husband. He is loving, kind, and respectful. He even takes his entire extended family on annual vacations to celebrate the national holidays. He is especially sympathetic to the emotional needs of his first wife and understands the stigma of her infertility.

Hannah, in turn, is an intelligent, devout, and literate woman, a worthy companion to Elkanah. Her beautiful song recorded in 1 Samuel 2 is a precursor of the Magnificat. As with many poets, deep despair became the locus of her creativity. This literary work reveals she was well-versed in the history and laws of Israel.

The God they worshipped claimed ownership of the firstborn of the womb (Exod. 13:2). Although Mosaic law made provision for the redemption of human children, the ideal of offering one’s firstborn was nevertheless considered the ultimate sacrifice. Surely the guilt Hannah felt and the punishment God had inflicted on her warranted such expiation. As the story recounts, her husband, Elkanah, understandably agrees. He supports her decision to devote their firstborn totally to the Lord (Num. 30:1–15).

Since one doesn’t just dump a baby on the church steps, the Bible says that the parents handed the child over to Eli, the priest. Moses was twelve years old when his parents relinquished care of him; Samuel was still a toddler. Was Eli to be his primary caregiver? Or did the child just grow up like Topsi? Where did he live? There was no temple as yet, contrary to the pictures in our children’s books. Did Elkanah, with his connections as a Levite, make special arrangements for his young son’s care at Shiloh?

For a long time, I had several misconceptions about the religious practices of ancient Israel. I thought that Israel had times of orthodoxy, times when, as a nation, it did everything according to the law. Then I believed that there were other times when the nation completely lost sight of God and worshipped strange gods. I believed its corporate worship reflected an either-or situation.

Furthermore, I believed that it was only in those times when the nation abandoned true worship that it behaved in cruel and inhumane ways. But a careful study of Scripture indicates that from Israel’s inception as a nation to the exile, the chosen people never had a "pure" faith. It seems that the nation was always mixing things up, combining pagan practices and rituals in its worship of Yahweh.

A prime example of this was the practice of having children "pass though the fire," a euphemistic way of saying the people offered human holocausts. This cruel abomination, this "shedding of innocent blood" as the prophets referred to the practice, was perpetrated even within the precincts of the temple itself. It was this practice that eventually became the point of no return for the people of Judah (Jer. 7:30, 31; 32:32–35; Ezek. 20:23–31; 23:37–39; 2 Kings 23:31, 32; 24:1, 3, 4).

I considered this abhorrent activity an entirely pagan notion until I realized there are "key texts" in the Torah that when taken literally seem to support this practice (Num. 3:13; Lev. 27:28, 29). These key texts combined with a gross misunderstanding of God and his activity could easily lead an Israelite to believe that God not only condoned such behavior, he in fact, required it.

The most disturbing aspect of the story of Jepthah is not the seemingly impulsive vow he made, which led to the sacrifice of his only daughter, but the lack of commentary in Scripture to indicate this was considered wrong or even anything out of the ordinary. There is no record of condemnation or moral outrage at his actions.

So Hannah and Elkanah take their three-year-old and "give him up" to God. Devoted parents hand over their infant child to a priest whose reputation for poor parenting skills was public knowledge. And they do this believing that it is according to God’s will and that God will be pleased with their sacrifice.

What a picture the people must have had of their God! Such a picture led the prophet Micah to raise the rhetorical question, "Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?" (Micah 6:6–8). Sadly, the assumption on the part of many Israelite worshippers was that God not only required expiation for one’s guilt, but that children were the preferred sacrifice.

How one’s picture of God influences one’s behavior is clearly illustrated in the life of the young Ellen White. In her book, Life Sketches, She records a personal encounter with Jesus: "He looked upon me with a frown, and turned His face from me. It is not possible to describe the terror and agony then felt.…I felt willing to do all that the Lord might require me to do, that I might have His approbation, and not feel His dreadful frown."1

Thus we see this young mother willing to leave her firstborn son for his first five years with another family, or, as she put it, "to sacrifice the company of our little Henry." She believed the Lord had spared him a few months earlier when he was very sick and that should she let Henry hinder her from doing her duty, God would remove him from her permanently. "It was hard to part with my child. His sad little face, as I left him, was before me day and night; yet in the strength of the Lord I put him out of my mind.…"2

Scholars and students of developmental psychology are familiar with the term attachment theory, which postulates that a warm, intimate, and continuous relationship between an infant and its mother or mother substitute is essential for healthy human development.3 The negative effects of maternal separation and deprivation in young children have been well-documented.4

The child Samuel bore the scars of his parent’s misguided devotion all his life. When Samuel was in his old age, having judged Israel faithfully for forty years, the people asked him to give them a king and he felt the pain of rejection all over again. In heartbrokenness, he cried out to his Heavenly Father. And the same God, who in the night hours spoke in pity to a small lonely child, reassured him, "Samuel, it is not you they are rejecting, but me" (1 Sam. 8:7).

What can we learn from Hannah and Elkanah? Perhaps that all good stories deserve a second look; that our understanding of God and his ways color our decision making; that parental instincts implanted in our hearts cannot be ignored with impunity; and that maybe some vows are better left unkept.

Notes and References

1. (Mountain View, Calif.: Pacific Press, 1915), 91.
2. Ibid., 120.
3. John Bowlby, who is credited with the development of attachment theory, was himself separated from his parents at the age of seven and sent to a boarding school. His unusual sensitivity to the sufferings of small children came in large part from this personal experience.
3. A deeply moving 1952 documentary titled A Two Year Old Goes to the Hospital illustrates the impact of the loss and suffering that young children experience when separated from their primary caretakers and led to the liberalization of family visiting practices for hospitalized children.

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