The prayer is a song, and the song is about God, not the baby. Samuel is never named in it. Hannah's horn — a figure of strength and dignity — is exalted in the LORD; her enlarged mouth over her enemies is not revenge on Peninnah but testimony to thy salvation.

Mary's Magnificat opens on the same note — My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour (Luke 1:46-47) — and goes on, like Hannah, to sing of the proud scattered and the lowly exalted. Most readers hear the earlier song behind the later one; it is an echo worth tracing, not a proof to press.

Three negations build one confession: none holy as He, none beside Him, no rock like Him. Hannah's theology is Deuteronomy's — He is the Rock (32:4) — sung from a kitchen rather than a pulpit.

Holiness, uniqueness and reliability: a God set apart, a God alone, a God to stand on. The song that will end with a king (v. 10) begins by placing every king beneath the Rock.

The great reversal, stated in full: dust to princes, dunghill to throne. Psalm 113:7-8 repeats the lines almost word for word; it is the signature of Israel's God that He is found lifting the ones the world has set down.

The reason given is not sentiment but ownership: the pillars of the earth are the LORD's. He can seat beggars among princes because the whole structure is His to arrange. Reversal is not luck; it is the Owner rearranging the furniture.

Israel has no king when Hannah sings; yet the song ends with his king... his anointed. This is the first place in the books of Samuel where the phrase appears, and the word anointed will carry the whole story — Saul, then David. Many Christians read the line as reaching, beyond both, to the Messiah, the Anointed One.

The LORD thunders out of heaven — and in 7:10 He will do exactly that against the Philistines. Hannah's horizon is the ends of the earth: a personal mercy has taught her to sing about the whole world's judge.

The priests' greed (vv. 13-16) — seizing meat before the fat was burned, by force if refused — was a sin against God's order of worship (Leviticus 3:16) and against the worshipper. Its worst fruit is named here: men abhorred the offering of the LORD. Corrupt ministers make God's people loathe God's altar.

Verse 12 had already given the diagnosis: sons of Belial; they knew not the LORD. They handled holy things daily and knew nothing of the Holy One. Office is not acquaintance.

Eli's rebuke is true but toothless — words from a father who should have acted as high priest. His own question, who shall intreat for him?, exposes the need the whole Old Testament feels for a greater Intercessor than Eli could be.

Because the LORD would slay them — a hard clause, honestly kept. Their deafness is their own sin and, at the same time, the judgment already settled upon it, as with Pharaoh. Scripture holds both without explaining how they fit; so should we.

A promise with for ever in it is withdrawn from a house that despised it. The priesthood itself continued; this line of it did not. God's covenant commitments are sure, but a particular family's enjoyment of them can be forfeited by contempt.

The principle is stated for all time: them that honour me I will honour. Eli honoured his sons above God (v. 29) and lost both honour and sons. Honouring God is not a feeling but a ranking — what you will not sacrifice to keep.

Judgment ends in promise. Verse 34 gives the near sign — Hophni and Phinehas dying in one day (fulfilled in 4:11); verse 35 gives the far hope. Eli's line is cut off from the high priesthood when Solomon removes Abiathar, that he might fulfil the word of the LORD, which he spake concerning the house of Eli in Shiloh (1 Kings 2:27).

Who is the faithful priest? Readers have pointed to Samuel, who ministered though not of Aaron's high-priestly line, and more often to Zadok, whose house served before the kings. Many Christians see the words finally resting on Christ, the Priest who does all that is in God's heart and walks before — and as — His Anointed for ever.