I think we can
tell from our first reading that Elijah was distressed, at his wits end. And I
want to back up and give you some “previously on 1 Kings…” context for why he
felt that way, but first I want to dwell a little with that distress. After he
sits down, the first thing we heard about him was that “he prayed to die.”
Taking the Hebrew a little more literally, the text says, “He asked to his own
soul to die.” It’s not clear to me that he’s exactly praying yet at that point,
though it could be “he asked for dying for his soul.” But I’m not sure he’s yet
praying to God. He seems to be looking inward at that point, and it may
not even be a fully verbalized thought, but a deep inward resignation, when he
looks to his soul, his life, and wishes for only death. But, then he speaks. רב!
Literally, he cries out, “Much!” We understand: “too much.” “Enough!” That
verbalization seems to be enough though, to make him turn to God. “Now, God,
take my life, because I (emphatic ‘I’) am no better than my fathers.” That last
bit probably means, “No better than the prophets who came before, who couldn’t
get Israel to return to covenant living either.” When he speaks these feelings
of desperation he’s feeling, that turns him to prayer, that turns him to God,
and it certainly doesn’t solve any of his problems, but somehow he gains enough
peace to sleep, and that’s the first gift. And there will go on to be more
gifts, because when God looks at Elijah’s soul he doesn’t will death, He sees a
life worth living, he wills abundant life, just as he does for each of us. And
somehow Elijah’s willingness to be brutally honest with God in prayer is the
start of opening himself up to more gift.
But, before we go on to
those more gifts, I want to back up, explain a little of how Elijah came to be
in this mess. He was a prophet of God, HaShem, the God of Israel. But during
his time, many of the people had started worshiping Ba’al, a fertility god. There
were many prophets of Ba’al leading the people astray, and the Queen, Jezebel,
was encouraging this. Through some dramatic working of signs, Elijah has great
success in converting people back to authentic worship of God, which results in
a drought ending. But, before that he kills all the prophets of Ba’al. The
Queen isn’t very happy about this and promises to have Elijah killed. He runs away,
further than he has to, not just out of her territory, but into a far desert.
And that’s why he says רב “Too much! Enough!”
I don’t know how
everyone here would react reading the chapter before this, but I think the
writer wants us cheering on hero Elijah when he works his signs, when the rains
come, when the people return to worshiping God, and when he kills all his
rivals. But, I wonder if we’re meant to rethink our reaction to that last part
once we get to this chapter. This part brings the prospect of death closer, brings
it to our hero. Here, if we enter into the story, we taste the fear of death in
Elijah’s cries, and maybe that’s meant to make us reevaluate the death he
dished out. Maybe we’re even meant to imagine that part of Elijah’s distress is
guilt. I genuinely don’t know if that’s how this narrative was originally meant
to function, but I wonder if that’s part of how the Spirit might use it now. You
might have heard that Pope Francis recently revised one paragraph of the Church’s
Catechism, the paragraph on capital punishment. John Paul II had actually
previously revised it, to make clear that the death penalty is never justified
as retribution, but can only be justified if it’s absolutely necessary to
ensure public safety. Francis has now discerned that that’s never the case, so
he has now officially ruled the death penalty always inadmissible and immoral. I
wonder if sitting with Elijah, the prophet and executioner now under a death
sentence, can help us with that.
Because God doesn’t give
up with Elijah. God never gives up with us. God sends an angel, and the angel
has water and bread for Elijah. The phrase we heard translated as ‘hearth cake’
is actually ‘cake baked on רצפים’ and רצפים is a very rare word in Hebrew. Actually, the only other place
we find it with this meaning is when the prophet Isaiah visits the heavenly
throne room, where it’s a burning coal that was on the heavenly altar,
presumably being used to burn incense. This is bread from heaven, bread that
was holy like the incense that rose like the prayers of the saints. The angel
feeds Elijah. And then he tells him to eat and go, continue with his prophetic
work. The angel says, “Get up and eat because the journey, the way, is too much
for you.” That same word, רב. “I
know it’s too hard for you alone,” says God, “so that’s why I’m with you.”
In Ephesians, we hear
the call to be as forgiving and loving as God. That’s too hard for us. רב. It’s
too much. That’s why Christ offered himself for us, the letter continues, as a
sacrifice which gives off a pleasing aroma. Ephesians says that we should be
able to smell Christ’s sacrifice, God’s love, that it fills up the breath we
take into our lungs. God’s love is that present around us and that sweet
smelling. Yes, it’s too hard for us. So, God’s with us, infusing us. In the
Gospel, we hear Jesus promise that he is the bread from heaven. Here in this
place, he nourishes us, and says “Go, continue with my mission. Forgive like God,
love like God. Be brutally honest in prayer, and know, we are a fed people.” The
Lord gives us bread from heaven.
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