From Cave to Courage
Lectionary scripture: 1 Kings 19: 1-16
Father’s Day, June 20, 2010
I love the prophet Elijah, the one we read about today in our Old Testament lesson. But you know, of all the Old Testament figures who I think should be famous, who deserve to get the bright lights and flashing, neon signs, Elijah seems to be the one most often left out. It doesn’t seem fair!
Moses gets Charlton Heston, with the dramatic parting of the Red Sea. Joseph gets a musical about his Technicolor Coat. But for many of us modern day Americans, Elijah can be just a rather vague, Old Testament name.
That’s why I want to talk about him on this Father’s Day – a day when we stop to recognize some of those in our lives who don’t always get the attention they deserve. It’s a day to honor the ones who do stand up for what is right, as Elijah did, those who work hard to serve God, and who sometimes find themselves struggling, in desert-like stretches, wondering if God remembers the good they’ve done.
Yes, the story of Elijah today can be the story of fathers whom we seek to honor. It also can be the story of all of us, we children of fathers who are trying our best to live in this world, without always getting the results we want. For me, today’s scripture lesson about Elijah is the story of a God who moves us out of our caves of darkness and fear, and gives us courage to continue on, still calling us forward.
Elijah lived in the 9th century BCE, when King Ahab ruled Northern Israel. From archeological information, we know that King Ahab was a true historical figure; his marriage to Jezebel, the daughter of a neighboring king, was a diplomatic and strategic alliance, akin to any royal marriage between England and France. Apparently the marriage contract allowed Jezebel to bring her court officers – that is, her priests – and her god, Baal. And into this scene rides the prophet Elijah, who had the unenviable task of preaching against the Queen and her false god.
In the prequel to our passage today, Elijah had courageously come before King Ahab, and told him that the three year drought Israel had been experiencing was due to the false worship of Baal. Elijah proposed to King Ahab, that in order to judge who is the true god, Baal or Yahweh, there be a contest between the “gods.” Ahab will build two large altars of wood, but neither will be lit; the god powerful enough to send down fire to the altar – and light it - will be hailed as the true God.
450 prophets of Baal went first, dancing around their altar for hours, shouting, pleading with Baal to light the wood, even lacerating themselves with all does not go well. But nothing happens. When Elijah’s turn comes, Elijah wants to be sure no one thinks he is merely conjuring a trick, so he douses the wood altar with many jars of water, drenching it. Despite this, when Elijah calls to God, God answers, and the altar is lit from heaven. The people proclaim their allegiance to Yahweh, Elijah correctly predicts a rainstorm on the horizon, the drought is ended, and Elijah orders the illegitimate priests of Baal put to death.
Elijah has triumphed. God is supreme. Health is restored to the land.
Ta-Ta-DAH!!
But immediately after that scene, we turn the Biblical page and find the words we read today. Virtually overnight, Elijah goes from that very peak of power, from that astonishing feat of God’s victory, down to the depths of despair. Despite his triumph, his nemesis, Jezebel, has not given up. She is incensed by the murder of her priests, and the humiliation of her god. She still is Queen, with the power of the army, and she swears an oath that she will kill Elijah in retaliation. No one seems to doubt her ability to carry it out, including Elijah.
So fearing for his life, our triumphant prophet has become the hunted man. Despite Elijah’s faithfulness, despite his past courage, despite even his remarkable success that seemed to convince the Israelites of Yahweh’s power, once Jezebel makes her threat known, the cheering crowd vanishes. Elijah is left alone. In exhaustion Elijah begs God to just let him die. Haven’t I done enough for you, God? Elijah asks.
We know about crashing down like this, don’t we? Or we see enough of it to let us feel haunted by its prospect. It’s the pathos of those who lose their savings or pensions overnight, with little recourse. It’s the tragedy unfolding on the Gulf Coast, where families suddenly find their livelihoods extinguished, through no fault of their own. It’s the soldier’s family who hails a hero one day, then must provide round-the-clock care the next. It may be the feeling of fathers, or mothers, who give all they have to their children, raise them well, and then find themselves alone in old age. It’s the pain of any one of us whose spouse or child or parent – our whole reason for living – suddenly is gone. Let me die, says Elijah. Haven’t I given enough?
Into this ache of pain, God first sends a messenger with warm bread and cool water, and insists that Elijah sit up and eat, so that he will have enough strength for the journey ahead. This time, Elijah’s cry to God does not result in dramatic fire pouring down from heaven, but in small heated stones, on which a piece of fresh bread bakes. Eat this bread in the desert, says God. Drink this jar of water. This is what you need now. Take and eat the small gifts I bring to you.
This time, in this life crisis of despair, Elijah does not get a huge, fire-y answer. He does not even get a final answer, because it’s understood that Elijah must eat so he can continue on: he has more of his journey still ahead of him. And it’s certainly not the answer Elijah has been asking for – that he can be done with his work, with his life. But what God provides is enough of an answer that Elijah can keep going.
For you see, while Elijah focuses on whether he, Elijah, has done enough, God changes the lens, and says, I, God, will give you enough. The focus shifts from what we humans do – whether we’ve done enough for God -- to what God will do for us. And what God will do IS enough.
So in the first half of his Elijah lesson, we start with a real life truth – that even the best lives can fall apart – and we hear that God’s focus will be on giving us enough to still move forward. Enough.
In the second half of the story, Elijah journeys for forty days and forty nights – Biblical lingo for a very long time – and he finally arrives at the cave scene, at Mt. Horeb, also known as Mr. Sinai, possibly as far away as the southern part of the Sinai peninsula, on the very mountain where Moses received the Ten Commandments. Wherever it was, we know that this cave is far away from where Elijah had triumphed, far away from Jezebel and her armies, and very far away from the Israelite people whom Elijah had hoped to turn back towards God.
At this far away place, in this mountain cave, God now finds Elijah and asks, What are you doing here, Elijah? It’s picture on our bulletin cover. What are we doing, wherever we find ourselves now in our lives? It’s a question I’m convinced God asks each of us, as equally as he asked it of Elijah.
Now, I know my default position, when I hear this question, can be one of fear,
because I’ve often heard it posed like an accusation from God, like a sneer: “What are you doing HERE, of all places?” As if God were saying to Elijah, “How dare you have tried to run away from me? Get back to your work!” And if God is asking the question that way, it’s a question I want to avoid at all costs, because I know that whatever my answer is, wherever I am in my life, I will surely always fall short of what God wants. I would do anything to avoid an encounter of that kind with God.
But tone matters, doesn’t it, and I’m convinced that God did not ask Elijah this question derisively. Have you ever sent an email and meant it innocuously, but the recipient assumed you spoke with a different tone, and you find yourself completely misunderstood? Tone matters.
And here, given what we now know of the whole story, any reading that suggests God was accusing Elijah doesn’t make sense, does it? That interpretation doesn’t fit with us knowing that God gave Elijah warm bread and cool water for his long journey, a journey God knew Elijah was going to make. And it makes no sense in light of what we know of their relationship – God’s and Elijah’s. Even at his most despairing, Elijah had not thought God was no longer listening: even when Elijah had wanted to die, Elijah had been talking to God all along, telling God exactly how he was feeling, begging God for permission to give up. No, Elijah didn’t hide from God. Moreover, given Elijah’s experience of God’s tremendous powers - a God who could bring down fire on a wet pile of wood and light it ablaze - it’s hard to believe that Elijah thought there even was a place he could go to hide from God. And certainly if there were one, it would not likely be the holy mountain site where God had spoken to Moses. If there were one cave in all of the Middle East that God clearly knew about, Elijah had gone to that very place. Elijah’s cave would have been a terrible hiding place!
No, for lots of reasons, I don’t think it’s right to hear God’s question with any sneer, as if there were any accusation in it. I don’t think that’s how God approached Elijah --- or how God approaches us. Remember, after Jesus rose out of his cave, his tomb, even though all his closest friends had deserted him, he never offered one word of condemnation. Jesus never blamed the disciples for their cowardly acts. Instead, as God did for Elijah, Jesus gave his people bread and drink; he greeted them by saying, “Peace be with you”; and he showed that he still believed in them, by sending them out, trusting them to be his agents of love to the world.
Likewise, in our New Testament lesson today, when the man possessed of many demons thinks he must hide in caves, and worries that Jesus might condemn him –“Jesus of Nazareth, what do you want of me?” – what we find is that Jesus only wants to heal that man. To make him whole. To leave the past behind, and give him new life.
No, I don’t think that God approached Elijah in the cave with an accusatory, sneering, “What are you doing here?” Too often religion has taught us that, but I don’t think it’s true. Instead, I hear God talking to Elijah in the cave, genuinely asking, What are you doing, Elijah? Tell me, my child, what is it that you are looking for? What is it that you need, in order to leave this place? For I want to help you move out of this darkness. I do not want you to live alone, without community, in a distant cave. I don’t want you to live forever in darkness, never seeing the light of day. I don’t want you to continue to fear death. I come that you might have life, and have it abundantly. Why are you here, Elijah? Tell me, so I can help you move on, to leave this place.
In effect, what God is asking Elijah are the sorts of questions an excellent friend might ask, or a pastor or a therapist, the questions we need to clarify things and get to the heart of the matter -- questions we might ask ourselves on a long walk alone, or on a sail, the wind in our hair. How am I stuck now? What is it that I’m most afraid of? What is that makes me so sad? About what am I still so furious? Why does this thing push my buttons so much? It is not really that God doesn’t already know what is happening in Elijah’s life, or in ours – I think God does know. It’s more that Elijah needs to know what’s really going on in his life, to be honest, to sort out his core issues,
A friend helped me like this, on a small issue, just this week, when she asked me a few key questions. I had just told her that my daughter and I had had some conflict about tablecloths for her upcoming wedding next week. Then I mentioned that after the conversation, I’d eaten half a gallon of ice cream. Now that last little detail suggested to my friend that maybe something bigger was going on than tablecloths. Really, she said, what worries you most about the wedding reception? And what do you need to get more peace about it?
Truth be told, deep down inside of me, this 53 year old was worried about my mother – a gracious and wonderful hostess – and whether I’d meet her expectations. My wise friend suggested I call my mom – who I know wants to be fully supportive, and of course didn’t care about the tablecloths. I’ve done that, and it’s made a real difference..
So God gave a gift to Elijah when God asked him, What are you doing here, Elijah? Now Elijah can pour out his heart in response, and can discover whether God can meet those needs. Pretending there is no problem is not the solution; it’s only an excuse for extended cave dwelling.
Elijah does pour out his heart, telling GoYd, essentially: “I’m here in this cave because I’ve worked so hard for You, I’ve done the very best I know to do, but still the Israelites have abandoned You. I’m the only one left, and now they want to kill me, too.” What Elijah is telling God, I think, is that Elijah needs courage to face possible death, companion believers for the journey so he is not alone, and some assurances that all his work is not in vain: That Jezebel would not ultimately triumph over God. And that Elijah is still important to God, still has gifts to offer that God needs and wants. Elijah has not failed.
God responds by being present for Elijah, making Himself known to Elijah. But this time God is not in the great wind that rushes past, God is not in the earthquake that splits the earth, nor is God even in the fire, the way God had been present last time for Elijah. This time, when Elijah pays very careful attention, he finds God in “the sound of sheer silence.” In the stillness.
This time, without any dramatic noises or sights, God comes to be with Elijah right where Elijah is, in the ordinariness of silence, in the simple still air all around him, embracing him.
Now Elijah is able to hear what comes next -- God’s command to return north, back to the Israelites and Jezebel -- not as a reprimand, but as an answer to Elijah’s prayer and desires. God is making clear that God still needs Elijah, and believes in him. God asks Elijah to appoint others– two new kings and a new prophet, Elisha – so Elijah need not be alone. And God says that when all is done, there will still be 7000 believers in God. Their work is not in vain. Elijah will emerge from the cave, into God’s daylight, to serve God.
Our challenge, from the Prophet Elijah today, is this: God does not intend us to stay forever in our caves of fear. God does not come to us there with threats or disappointment, accusations or recriminations. But God does come. And God does not intend to leave us where we are. Elijah’s story does not end in the cave, but in the journey forth again, that we’re all called to make, still today.
When God asks you, What are you doing here, at this time of your life, what will each of us say? Because God does ask, wanting to hear our answers, the things we’ve figured out, what it is that we need at this particular point in our life, so that we can continue to serve God. God needs you, to keep showing the True God to the world, to keep showing Love to others.
I wonder where is it that God, in God’s loving response, will ask you to travel next, giving you enough for your journey? I can hardly wait to hear….
Preached by Joy Fallon
Summer Pastoral Intern
Cotuit Federated Church
Cotuit, MA