Saugatuck Congregational Church
© Rev. Alison J. Buttrick Patton
June 19, 2016
Scripture: Kings 19:1-15
Elijah is convinced that he is all alone, the way any of us can feel utterly alone, on a really bad day. Do you know the children’s book: Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day?[1]
“I’m moving to Australia.” Alexander declares, because he’s having the worst day ever: his favorite breakfast cereal is all gone; his mom yells at him when it’s really his brother’s fault; he gets gum stuck on his shoe; and he has to wear his railroad train pajamas (“I hate my railroad train pajamas.”). Although no one seems to be listening, he announces over and over, “I’m having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.” Just before bed, his mom says, “Some days are like that – even in Australia.”
Some days, I’m convinced that the universe is conspiring against me. Every bump in the road feels like a personal insult: No milk for my tea; traffic on my route; a phone that’s run out of battery power… ‘til I’m feeling put upon, just like Alexander.
But then there are the truly terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days: like the day we learn that there’s been an accident; the day we hear the devastating diagnosis; the morning we learn about another mass shooting. The world shifts off its axis; everything stops making sense; we want to run or hide, or throw in the towel. “What’s the point?” we wonder. Everything we’ve done – all the hard work to make the world a better place – is futile. There will always be another tragedy; another act of senseless violence. Over and over we say, “It’s about Love, people,” but no one seems to be listening.
I imagine that’s how Elijah is feeling: Convinced that his efforts have been futile, convinced that the world is beyond being salvaged. He is out of patience and out of steam. He is certain that he’s the very last person on earth who has kept the faith; he has failed as a prophet. “I am no better than my ancestors…” he says. “Kill me now.”
Maybe you feel Elijah’s pain. I know I do. But I also recognize that Elijah has gotten a bit swept up in his own terrible troubles and lost perspective. Devastating events like the shootings at the Pulse Club in Orlando last Saturday night – these are truly cause for lament. We fall to our knees. We shake our fists at the sky. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?” In the face of devastating loss, there is no more natural response.
But Elijah is not so much lamenting as he is indulging in a dose of self-pity. Yes, he is fleeing for his life (Queen Jezebel has put a price on his head). But truth be told, he got himself into that pickle by murdering 400 of the queen’s prophets. This was not in the plan. God hadn’t asked him to do that. Elijah got carried away trying to prove God’s power, and now he was on the run. And feeling profoundly put upon.
Fortunately, God doesn’t get caught up in Elijah’s drama. Like a patient parent, God gives Elijah a little time to stew (40 days, 40 nights to be exact), makes sure he eats and drinks, and listens to him vent, not once, but twice.
After the first tirade, God says, “Elijah, why don’t you come up to my office.” ie, “Meet me on Mt. Horeb.” “Horeb” is another name for Sinai. Mt. Sinai is the mountain where Moses hung out with God, back when all the Israelites were traveling through the wilderness. God had to listen to a good deal of complaining back then, too – Israelites who had forgotten how miserable their lives had been in slavery, who claimed they were better off in Egypt than wandering through the desert. God didn’t give up on them back then, and God doesn’t give up on Elijah now. But neither does God permit Elijah to wallow in self-pity, or give into Elijah’s dire view of the world.
See, God takes the long view. God knows that the people’s salvation does not depend on any one prophet, even that most famous prophet, Elijah. “Go back,” God says. “Anoint a new king. Go find your successor. There’s more to do. But you don’t have to do it alone.” Maybe that’s why they had to have the conversation up on the mountain. To give Elijah the broader view. Maybe, as Elijah stood where Moses once stood, he remembered that the journey is indeed long… that he had followed in the footsteps of others who had persevered in the face of tremendous hardship – so who was he to complain? It’s all about keeping things in perspective.
Tragedies like the shootings at the Pulse Club in Orlando can send us spiraling, and they can remind us that what we’ve been doing all along matters; proclaiming that the Gospel of Love matters. Using inclusive language, extending an extravagant welcome, insisting that everyone means everyone, “no matter your age or whom you love…”; relentlessly interrupting attempts to degrade or demonize whole categories of people; repeating the obvious, as many times as necessary. In the words of the Rev. Eric Anderson: “God made LGBTQ folks. Muslim folks. Black folks. Brown folks.”
We are not the first to say it, and we won’t be the last. We are part of a long line of fiercely faithful people who have confronted these same forces of destruction on God’s behalf, in every generation. Now the task is ours. Not just ours. But we ARE called, because we, here in this room, know, even on our worst days, that we are NOT in this alone.
On our darkest days, we are surrounded by people who can testify to the power of God’s love. We heard some of those testimonies just last week, as those of you who are graduating from high school reflected on the long-lasting bonds that you have formed with Saugatuck friends whom you might never have met or hung out with at school.
In many cases, those bonds were forged on mission trips like the one we’re about to take. Those of you who have been before, know how life-changing these trips can be. Over the course of just a few days, we discover (or rediscover) that working together in community generates positive, powerful energy that spills over into all our interactions. We become more compassionate, more courageous, more welcoming and generous-hearted, because we know someone’s got our back – several someone’s.
That’s the wisdom we are called to tap when things go badly in the world, when we face the most terrible days. We are NOT alone, after all. God’s love, shared among us, has the power to overcome everything else. God’s pulse keeps beating, among us, and through us.
“So,” God says, “Get up. Go build more of that community!” If you are out of steam, find someone else to carry the standard for a bit. And while you are at it, ask them to tell you how they have kept the faith. On the bad days, let their convictions bolster you. And when it’s someone else who is having a bad day – another person or another community, then it’s our turn to testify to the power of Love. Speak about it – loudly and unflinchingly. Tell the world that there’s an alternative to bigotry; to fear; to judgment. Tell them you’ve stood on the mountain top, or in the Mexican desert, on the sea shore, in the church, on the playground, among the children, and you’ve seen the love of God poured out; you’ve felt it in the people who have welcomed YOU and born you up…
No: we are not alone. We are surrounded by fierce, devoted, faith-filled people. Elijah was not the only prophet left (there were at least 100 others mentioned earlier in the story). And the fate of the world was not on his shoulders. He DID, however, have a part to play. So, too, do we. So let’s get to it! Thanks be to God. Amen.
Scripture
1 Kings 19:1-15 – New Revised Standard Version
Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. 2Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, “So may the gods do to me, and more also, if I do not make your life like the life of one of them by this time tomorrow.” 3Then he was afraid; he got up and fled for his life, and came to Beer-sheba, which belongs to Judah; he left his servant there.
4But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die: “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.” 5Then he lay down under the broom tree and fell asleep. Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him, “Get up and eat.” 6He looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again. 7The angel of the Lord came a second time, touched him, and said, “Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.” 8He got up, and ate and drank; then he went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of God.
9At that place he came to a cave, and spent the night there. Then the word of the Lord came to him, saying, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” 10He answered, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.” 11He said, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; 12and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. 13When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.
Then there came a voice to him that said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” 14He answered, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.” 15Then the Lord said to him, “Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus; when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael as king over Aram. 16Also you shall anoint Jehu son of Nimshi as king over Israel; and you shall anoint Elisha son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah as prophet in your place.
[1] By Judith Viorst, 1987.