The Memorial of Saint Hilary of Poitiers and Doctor
So Hannah rose up after they had finished eating and drinking in Shiloh. Now Eli the priest was sitting on his seat by the doorpost of the Lord's temple. She was in bitterness of soul, and prayed to the Lord, weeping bitterly. She vowed a vow, and said, "Lord of Armies, if you will indeed look at the affliction of your servant and remember me, and not forget your servant, but will give to your servant a boy, then I will give him to the Lord all the days of his life, and no razor shall come on his head."
As she continued praying before the Lord, Eli saw her mouth. Now Hannah spoke in her heart. Only her lips moved, but her voice was not heard. Therefore Eli thought she was drunk. Eli said to her, "How long will you be drunk? Get rid of your wine!"
Hannah answered, "No, my lord, I am a woman of a sorrowful spirit. I have not been drinking wine or strong drink, but I poured out my soul before the Lord. Don't consider your servant a wicked woman; for I have been speaking out of the abundance of my complaint and my provocation."
Then Eli answered, "Go in peace; and may the God of Israel grant your petition that you have asked of him."
She said, "Let your servant find favor in your sight."So the woman went her way and ate; and her facial expression wasn't sad any more.
They rose up in the morning early and worshiped the Lord, then returned and came to their house to Ramah. Then Elkanah knew Hannah his wife; and the Lord remembered her.
When the time had come, Hannah conceived, and bore a son; and she named him Samuel, saying, "Because I have asked him of the Lord."
Hannah prayed, and said, "My heart exults in the Lord! My horn is exalted in the Lord. My mouth is enlarged over my enemies, because I rejoice in your salvation.
"The bows of the mighty men are broken. Those who stumbled are armed with strength. Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread. Those who were hungry are satisfied. Yes, the barren has borne seven. She who has many children languishes.
"The Lord kills and makes alive. He brings down to Sheol and brings up. The Lord makes poor and makes rich. He brings low, he also lifts up.
He raises up the poor out of the dust. He lifts up the needy from the dunghill to make them sit with princes and inherit the throne of glory. For the pillars of the earth are the Lord's. He has set the world on them.
They went into Capernaum, and immediately on the Sabbath day he entered into the synagogue and taught. They were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as having authority, and not as the scribes. Immediately there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, and he cried out, saying, "Ha! What do we have to do with you, Jesus, you Nazarene? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are: the Holy One of God!"
Jesus rebuked him, saying, "Be quiet, and come out of him!"
The unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. They were all amazed, so that they questioned among themselves, saying, "What is this? A new teaching? For with authority he commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him!" The report of him went out immediately everywhere into all the region of Galilee and its surrounding area.
We celebrate Saint Hilary of Poitiers today, a fourth-century bishop who courageously defended the divinity of Christ against the Arian heresy. His unwavering commitment to truth, even when it meant exile, reminds us that authentic faith sometimes requires us to stand firm when others waver.
What strikes me most about Hannah's story is how she prays with her whole being—so intensely that Eli mistakes her desperation for drunkenness. There's something profoundly honest about Hannah's approach to God. She doesn't offer polite, measured requests. She pours out her soul, as she puts it, bringing her deepest longing and pain directly to the Lord.
We live in a culture that often encourages us to keep our struggles private, to maintain composure even when we're falling apart. But Hannah shows us a different way. Her prayer is raw, vulnerable, and utterly trusting. She believes God actually cares about her specific heartache, not just humanity in general.
This connects beautifully with what we see in the Gospel. Jesus enters that synagogue with the same divine authority that heard Hannah's prayer centuries earlier. When he commands the unclean spirit to leave, there's no negotiation, no struggle—just immediate obedience. The people are amazed because they recognize something they've never encountered before: someone who speaks with the very voice of God.
What I find beautiful here is that the same God who remembered Hannah is the same Jesus who walks into our ordinary Wednesday afternoons with that same authority. Whether we're facing infertility like Hannah, or wrestling with our own unclean spirits—addiction, fear, resentment—Christ meets us with power that can actually change things.
How honestly do we bring our deepest struggles to God? What would it look like to "pour out our souls" in prayer today? Where in our lives do we need to experience Christ's authority over the forces that seem to control us?