I shared with 8am folks that I was worried
I was preaching more against bad preachers this week than really speaking to
the congregation at Advent. It will come
as no surprise to you all that have attended the last couple years that some of
my colleagues were teasing me this week about me having my own Elijah
moment. Colleagues were discussing their
insights into the passages, as we are often wont to do, but they were driving
me nuts. One colleague is preaching on
this passage from 1 Kings as a moralistic sermon: Don’t be like Elijah! Ugh. I
tried to remind him that Elijah was on the mountain with a transfigured Christ
last week. I don’t know that God wants
us to think of Elijah as a failure. But
it fell on deaf ears. Here’s hoping that
sermon does, too. I had another
colleague “discover” that God really only cares about His competition with
Ba’al. God does not condemn the worship
of Asherah. Really? That whole first commandment thing doesn’t
give you pause? That whole shemah thing
we read in Rite 1 worship doesn’t suggest that God hates all forms of idolatry? I have
been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts!
Things were further jumbled after the
events of Friday night and Saturday in Charlottesville. Most of us believe that we preach best with a
Bible in one hand and a newspaper (or the internet nowadays) in the other. Charlottesville looms large over our national
context this week, but the events did not happen until yesterday. Most of my colleagues wrote their sermons on
Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of this week.
Thursday and Friday were days of editing or fine-tuning. How can one ever preach on such an event with
no preparation? What was worse was that
some complained our readings did not lend themselves to the events of the
weekend! The sense of failure expressed
by Elijah or the chaos of the wind and waves were somehow disconnected to those
events. And, because I was busy for
several hours with June’s funeral, I had missed most of the events. Unlike my brother and sister clergy, I was
unable to watch events unfold on television.
This was, to their understanding, going to make me ineffectual discussing
the tragedy with you.
Of course, 8 o’clockers decided God showed
up powerfully this morning in the sermon.
Somehow, 1 Kings made sense to everyone in light of our context here at
Advent, here in Middle Tennessee, and as an American. And, although it was not the sermon I had in
mind at the beginning of the week, I have to admit I found it encouraging as
well. So, if you are following along,
turn in your Bibles to chapter 19 or turn to the first page in your Order of
Worship. . .
Before I speak to the despair of Elijah, I
need to speak to the work and deeds of the man.
Last week, we read that he appeared on the mountain with Moses and
Jesus. In the Jewish tradition, Elijah
was the prophet, and Moses was the law-giver.
Elijah, it was thought in some circles, might return to rule for
God. It makes sense, right? He was carried off to heaven by the chariots
of fire before the cohort of prophets and Elisha, his successor. Since he was not dead, he just might return
to rule for God, or to advise the Messiah who ruled for God. When people describe Jesus as Elijah in the
Gospels, it is with this kind of cultural understanding they have in mind. It’s a compliment.
Elijah, of course, accomplished incredible
things for God. Elijah, in the lead up
to our passage today, was the prophet of God in the so-called battle of the
prophets. Acting on instructions from
God, Elijah challenges the priests of Ba’al to a worship contest. He and they will construct an altar,
sacrifice a bull, and call down fire upon the sacrifice. Whoever’s god answers will be the god of
Israel. Such a competition is possible
only because Ahab and Jezebel have led Israel astray from God. They have introduced the worship of idols to
Israel.
In a battle worthy of a Hollywood movie,
the priests of Ba’al construct their altar, sacrifice their animal, and then
call down Ba’al’s fire. Unfortunately
for them, Ba’al does not answer. The
Hebrew is rather amusing. Elijah mocks them
for their god’s inability to answer. He
laughs that Ba’al is busy on his throne, as many men like to do in the bathroom,
and so incapacitated and kept from answering their prayers. He wonders at another point whether Ba’al is
asleep. Again and again he teases the
enemy priests. Eventually, they all pass
out from exhaustion.
Elijah builds his altar, sacrifices his
animal, pours water all over the wood (they are in a three year drought and he
wants no one to accuse this of being spontaneous combustion), and calls down
Yahweh’s flame. God consumes not only
Elijah’s sacrifice but that of the sacrifice to Ba’al. Everyone is stunned. And Elijah uses that stunned time to order
the priests of God to kill all the priests of Ba’al. Can you imagine anything more glorious? Elijah certainly could not. Scripture does not tell us what he
expected. Maybe he expected all Israel
to turn and worship Yahweh after such an answer? Maybe he just expected Ahab and Jezebel to
return to the Lord? Maybe he expected
idolatry to go the way of the dodo bird after such an impressive display. Whatever he expected, he got something
completely different.
And, lest we think this is Elijah’s only
supernatural encounter with God, he has all kinds of reasons to know what to
expect from God. God has shut the rains
at Elijah’s prayer. This is the same
Elijah who is sent to the widow in Sidon.
It is from her never-ending jar of oil and jar of flour that she, he,
and her son are fed during this extreme drought. It is that same son that is raised from the
dead at Elijah’s intercession. There are
more events in his relationship with God, but you get the idea. Elijah has had quite the walk with our Lord. And it is that same Elijah whom we find
groaning, complaining, and giving up today.
Whatever response Elijah expected as a
result of that battle of the prophets, he gets a death threat as well. Ahab is blind to the events described in that
battle. When he recounts the events to
his wife, he claims that Elijah did all of that, not God. In response to her husband’s testimony,
Jezebel sends a messenger to tell Elijah that she is going to do to him what he
did to her priests of Ba’al. Those of us
who are rational might well wonder at the threat and Elijah’s response. If he killed all the Ba’al priests, who is
alive to kill him? More to the point,
why send a messenger to threaten the prophet of God? Just send the killers.
Whatever Elijah expected, that was not the
response. And so he flees south. He flees to the very southern edge of the
kingdom. Still, that’s not far
enough! He tells his servant to remain
at a place while he travels a day into the wilderness, further away. It is there that Elijah finds a bushy tree,
collapses, and basically asks God to take his life. If the battle with the prophets or the
raising of the widow’s son, or the transfiguration appearance represent the
pinnacle of Elijah’s walk with God, this scene represents the nadir, his own
Jonah-fleeing moment.
It is at this point in the story that we
need to remind ourselves of the character of our Father in heaven. I often have a different parenting
outlook. When my kids come whining to me
about a booboo or cat scratch, I am the dad that offers to cut off the finger
or leg to make that pain go away. It’s
ok to laugh. None of them have ever let
me do it. It’s terrible parenting, isn’t
it? But who has not had it done to
them? Who has not offered to do it?
Thankfully, God does not respond like
us. Does Elijah get beaten for running
away in the “this is gonna hurt me more than it hurt you sense?” Does God ignore Elijah for his lack of
faith? Does God condemn or punish Elijah
for Elijah’s wrong expectations? Look at
what He does to Elijah. He feeds
Elijah. He lets Elijah rest. He asks Elijah why he is where he is. And God listens. Think of how petulant Elijah’s answer must
sound in God’s ears. “I have done
everything you have asked and still they seek to kill me. None have turned to You, Lord! I have wasted my time, my energy, my care,
and my concern for them. Take my life,
please.” Pathetic, is it not? It’s at these points in our conversations
with our kids that we mouth that eternal wisdom, “you think you are
hurting? I’ll give you hurt” right? Is that how our Father in heaven tends to
Elijah? No!
After feeding and allowing Elijah rest,
God sends Elijah to Mount Sinai. There
Elijah finds a cave. Some rabbinical
scholars claim this is the very same cleft or cave where God hid Moses when His
glory passed by. While in that cave, God
speaks to Elijah. The miraculous or
supernatural happens again. A wind with
the strength to split boulders happens.
But God is not in that wind. Next
an earthquake rumbles. But God is not in
the earthquake. A consuming fire falls
to earth, and still God is not in the fire.
Where does Elijah finally encounter God again? Our translators say the sheer silence. Others have described it as the small
whisper. We might as well think of it as
the personal, the ordinary, the common.
What Elijah experiences is common to
people in their walk with God. Think of
the stories of your favorite prophet, or your favorite matriarch , your
favorite patriarch, or your favorite Adventer.
Is everything they do laudable or praiseworthy? Of course not! And God responds to each as a loving Father. Almost all complain; many are dejected at
some point. Some flee Him; some beg Him
to punish the enemies. Many take things
into their own hands to “fix them” and wind up making an even bigger mess. And each time God is loving and
merciful. God knows what each needs and
provides it, be it a kick in the pants or a softer life lesson. Elijah needs to know that God is the One
rejected. Elijah, and we, need to be
reminded that God not only gives meaning to our work, our ministries, but He is
the sole arbiter of our success. For
American Christians like us, this is a heck of a spiritual wedgie, right?
As I was watching CNN before the funeral
yesterday, I watched a modern Elijah.
The crew was following a small group of white supremacists after the
police had dispersed the crowds from the park.
They would try to capture every confrontation on camera and in an
interview. They came upon an older,
bearded black man with sad face and shaking head. The reporter asked him what had happened to
him. In an obviously pained voice, the
man expressed failure. Nothing, it
turned out, had happened to him. Why was
he so sad? “This is not who we are. I don’t know any of these people—on either
side! Are we perfect? No.
But we aren’t this. Now, it’s our
city’s reputation that is getting ruined.
Our businesses are being hurt.
Our property is being ruined.
This is not us.” As he was
shaking his head, the crew moved on because there was another verbal
confrontation up the street. But I was
struck by this man’s sense of failure.
He was of an age where I am sure he remembered worse times. He was likely of an age where he thought the
worst was behind us. I don’t know how
long he has lived in Charlottesville, but it does not have the reputation or
feel of a racist divide. It’s a
university town snuggled in the foothills of the Appalachians. Their big riots generally involve drunken
college students being stupid, wielding kegs or fifths of liquor. Not racist protesters bearing semi-automatic
weapons or their counterparts carrying clubs or pepper spray. And had he been a worker for racial equality
and justice much of his life, I can only imagine the sense of his futility.
It is a futility that no doubt touches
us. I am loathe to put words in their
mouth, so you should ask them and thank them afterwards, but think how Billy
and George must feel doing the work of the anti-racism taskforce. We are trying to do the right things, I
think, as a diocese. If we screw up,
it’s well meant intentions. Heck, we
began with a corporate, public repentance, just as many experts suggest. We acknowledged that our churches did not
stand up with the innocent for justice when it mattered most. Our silence led to their deaths. It was a powerful service, a powerful
beginning, Naomi was able to speak to racism as a South African who finds
herself for a season planted firmly in Nashville . . . and very few showed
up. Was it the timing, a weekday
morning? Was it the location? Rush hour makes Fisk a longer trip than
normal for those of us living on the south side of Nashville. But where were the people from north
Nashville, or East Nashville, or West Nashville? Where was the press? Never mind the CNN’s or Fox News or major
outlets of the nation, where were our press members? Why weren’t the cameras following everyone as
we processed to St. Anselm’s to reveal the new marker? And for all the good beginning that our task
force has done, how quickly would it all had been unraveled if those protesters
and counter-protesters had chosen to duke it out in Nashville rather than a
small university town in Virginia? For
those who have fought racism, today is likely an emotionally exhausting
day. Sometimes we like to think we have
made such a difference. Then the world
kicks us in the teeth and reminds us that our life’s work was a failure or
worthless. Is it any wonder we, like
Elijah, rail at God, flee from God, or wonder whether He really cares?
Such a feeling likely hangs over two more
Adventers this morning. I hear it was
shared in Bible Study, so I will share it as well. Unbeknownst to many of you, Tina and Robert
have been teaching English as a Second Language classes as one of our nearby
churches. Tina and Robert have taken it
upon themselves to welcome immigrants and refugees in Christ’s name. Their chief contribution is a willingness to teach
English to any who come to the classes.
It is hard work, exhausting work.
Through translators they get to hear first hand the accounts of lives in
other countries. Through translators
they get to hear first hand the accounts of incredible journeys to get to the
United States. Through translators they
get to hear first hand the accounts and stories of living in this land as a
foreigner, an alien. Many in power try
to wrap themselves in the mantle of Christ claiming this is a Christian
nation. Tina and Robert can tell you we
sure don’t seem that way to “those people.”
Up until this point, of course, Tina and
Robert could claim a distinction between the country and the Church. The country may get things wrong and only say
what is necessary to remain in power, but the Church knows better—the Church
follows Jesus. Their eyes will water as
they share the story, but that distinction ended this week. The church that was hosting the classes
stopped them this week with no warning, with no hint of any problem. It turns out that the idea of teaching
foreigners how to read and write English was divisive in the church. Let me say that again: the idea of hosting
adult foreigners to teach them our language was divisive in a church. People were threatening to leave the church
of those people, and take their pledges with them, so the pastor stopped the
classes. Somehow, I doubt the Jesus who
supported Peter on the waves today was proud of His disciples. Could we blame Tina and Robert if they gave
up? Could we blame them if they gave up
on the Church and on God in the midst of such hardened hearts and stiff
necks? Would we be surprised if they
found themselves, like Elijah, ready to throw in the towel?
I
have already spoken of a couple pastors’ failure this morning, but it is worth
reminding you I think that we are human.
I’m sure by the time today is over I will have heard of many more. Heck, some of you may lump me in with that
group. But I was reminded of clergy
failures earlier this week by a visitor.
I won’t share all the details as I invited her to church, but she
recounted how a priest had really screwed up in her past. The result was that she and her family walked
out of this church and the Church for many years. When she dropped in this week, she said she
had attended the irregular wedding or funeral, but had not been to weekly
services in decades now.
On one hand, we might be tempted to
dismiss her claims. Why give up on God
because a priest is human? But we clergy
understand it. Our mistakes, we quickly
learn, have far-reaching consequences. We
are stewards of God’s holy mysteries.
Our mis-stewarding has far-reaching and eternal consequences. Was the priest trying to do what he thought
was best? I’m inclined to give him the
benefit of the doubt. Was what he was
doing unquestionably wrong? Yes. As I talked with her this week, Elijah was,
naturally, on my mind, but I had also had a few conversations with less
experienced clergy on my mind. Somebody
had suggested that each reach out to me.
I learned again that I am a rare sighting in our beloved church. I’m not yet fifty years of age and I have
double digit years’ worth of ordained experience. We laughed as I shared that with her, but
hers was the nervous laugh of “why is he telling me this?” I told her that clergy make a lot of mistakes
right out of seminary. It’s no
wonder. We have people and clergy at our
sending parish telling us we should be ordained. We have imposing figures we call bishops
concurring. We go through committees of
strangers called Commissions on Ministry and Standing Committees with the same
result. Once through all them, we find
ourselves at seminary, surrounded by ordained professors whose jobs depend upon
them preparing us and encouraging us for the days that lay ahead. Is it any wonder our expectations get out of
whack? Who does not want to be the next
great thing? Who does not want to be the
one who grows the next super church? Who
begins the next revival? Who earns that “saint”
title in the next iteration of Holy Women Holy Men?
Like Elijah, our expectations get out of
whack. God needs us to further His
kingdom is the lie we tell ourselves.
And then the honeymoon at the first parish ends. We screw up.
We offend rather than scandalize.
We discover that people do not like us.
Every decision costs the parish income which, in turn, increases the
stress on the Vestry? Some clergy run
away to another parish, and some parishes go looking for another clergy. Some clergy go looking for that perfect
parish, and some parishes go looking for that perfect clergy. Somewhere along the way, bishops hope that
the new clergy and the vestries learn to work with each other. If the call is mutually discerned, bishops
hope clergy and parishes look for God in the ordinary, the mundane, the boring,
and each other. My ministry with this
woman this week was rather boring. I don’t
think she walked out of the office thinking “that guy is brilliant.” She may have been scandalized by a couple of
my questions or statements. Time will
tell. She had been wrestling with God
for a few months. She found herself on
Franklin Pike and noticing the sign rather than flying past us on the
interstate yet again. We talked. I apologized for my predecessor’s
failure. We spoke of some of you; she
threatened to give us a try.
Miraculous? Yes. Supernatural?
By no means.
How this all relates to us individually, I
hope, is obvious. It is understandable
if our individual ministries to which He has called us result in disappointment
and sense of failure. How it relates to
us corporately, I think, is less obvious.
When Bishop John visited with us in June, he made a point of encouraging
me to thank the vestry members repeatedly for their work of adaptive change or
discernment or whatever we want to call it.
What God and the bishop and Holly and I are asking them and you to do is
hard work. There is a temptation, a
strong temptation, to want to give up, to quit working, to quit doing the hard
stuff. Heck, in this day and age of
consumer Christianity in America, it is easy to want to give up and run away
and hide, just like Elijah! Those
feelings that we sense or understand in our individual efforts can even be
magnified in corporate settings. That’s
why I find it more than comforting that on a day when our country is struggling
with the institutional sin of racism and when members are struggling with their
own sense of failure or inadequacy and when we as members of a parish may be experiencing
similar feelings of failure and wasted effort, we are reminded the week after
the Transfiguration of Elijah.
Like us, Elijah was called to walk in the
path of God, the path of righteousness.
Like us, Elijah was called to draw others into God’s saving
embrace. Like us, Elijah was given
incredible power and incredible signs that he was doing what God asked of
him. And like us, Elijah found himself
in a world full of people who had no idea they were in darkness, who had no
idea they were walking in valleys that led to death, who had no idea they were
blind. And like us, Elijah took their
rejection of God as a rejection of himself and as an evidence of his failure.
Like us, Elijah had a Christ like
ministry. His ministry was not of his
own doing. He went and did where and
what God commanded. Like God’s Son who
came centuries later, Elijah’s ministry seemed a failure. Like Jesus, Elijah’s ministry seemed to be
pointless and leading to death.
It would have been within God’s right to
smite Elijah or yell at him for his pity party; it would not, however, been
within His character. Like He does so
often for each of us, God needed to remind Elijah where He was to be
found. Like us, Elijah needed to be
reminded that God only requires obedience.
Like us, Elijah needed only to be reminded that nothing God does is
without purpose. We may not understand
the purpose, but He always has at least one!
And like us, Elijah needed to be reminded that God is the judge of our
efforts. He is the determiner of the
success of our labors. Not us. Not the world. To us and to those in the world we can appear
as abject failures, as impotent human beings not up to the grand tasks assigned
us by Him. Nevertheless, He determines
the success. He has the power to redeem
all things, even our seeming failures. Elijah
felt a complete failure, yet God reminds him that 7000 heard his words! 7000 were rescued out of Elijah’s
self-evaluated disappointment or failure!
How successful would we view ourselves if we each rescued 7000? You and I share in that promise and that hope—that
He will give meaning to our lives, that He will redeem our failures, that He
will give us a share of His glory for all eternity. Just as He redeemed this nadir of faith of
His prophet Elijah, He will redeem our nadirs, both individually and
collectively. Heck, just as He redeemed
the death of His Son Jesus Christ our Lord, He will redeem us, even if our
seeming failure seems to lead to our own deaths! And, because He is a Father who loves us more
deeply than we can ever understand or appreciate, He has even more than
redemption in store for us! Just as He
demonstrated in His Son’s Ascension and Transfiguration, you and I, like Elijah,
will one day share in His glory! What a
promise! What a hope! What an incredible God and Father!
Why are you here, Adventers? Let’s eat and get back out there, toiling in
the mundane and the ordinary, reminded of that wonderful promise and reward He
has in store for all those who call upon Him!
In
Christ’s Peace,
Brian†
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