SERMON FOR AUGUST 8, 2021                TEXT: 1 KINGS 19:4-8

          If I was downcast or out of sorts, my mom would ask two diagnostic questions, “Did you get enough sleep?” and “When did you last have something to eat?” Sometimes the problem was resolved with a little time out to relax or a snack. If the issue was more complicated, Mom knew it was best to face the challenge with a good night’s sleep and regular meals. When the going got rough, I tended to skimp on both. She called me on it and didn’t take no for an answer.

          In today’s Old Testament lesson we encounter the prophet Elijah at a low point in his life. He has gone his solitary way into the wilderness and now plops down under a lone broom tree and gives up. “It is enough now, O Lord,” he cries, “take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.” Perhaps he is referring to his family members who have died; he is mortal, as they were, and he would gladly join them in the realm of the dead. It is even more likely that he is referring to his forebears in the prophetic tradition. Theirs was a heavy responsibility and a lonely way of life. Elijah was not the first to long for relief from the burden of speaking the word of the Lord to an indifferent or openly hostile audience. Indeed, his lament echoes a similar complaint from Moses. After long wandering in the wilderness with the increasingly fractious Israelites, he finally loses it with God. “I am not able to carry all this people alone, for they are too heavy for me. If this is the way you are going to treat me, put me to death at once — if I have found favor in your sight — and do not let me see my misery” (Numbers 11:14-15). Alrighty then, and other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play?!

          It is not clear why Elijah has hit rock bottom. In fact he has just come off a tremendous victory. Ahab, king of Israel, had married the foreign princess Jezebel, and joined her in worshiping Baal, the divinity of her people. God sent the prophet Elijah to call him and his kingdom to account. In a dramatic public spectacle God makes his power known when Elijah defeats the priests of Baal and then puts them to the sword. The Israelites repent and confess that “The Lord indeed is God.” A chastised King Ahab reports to Jezebel what has become of her priests. She then seeks revenge, vowing to kill Elijah: “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,” she threatens. However, Elijah makes good his escape. “[B]y this time tomorrow” finds him very much alive in territory where Ahab and Jezebel have no control. Alive and safe but not well.

          The confrontation with the priests of Baal, the bloody aftermath and then a credible death threat — together these incidents would get Elijah’s adrenaline pumping. It wasn’t fight or flight — it was both in quick succession. Now the adrenaline rush has abated, and that will leave a person feeling wiped out. But there is more going on here. We cannot know Elijah’s tone of voice. Is he rebuking God out of frustration, sounding off like Moses: “If this is the way you are going to treat me, put me to death at once. . . .” Or is Elijah speaking out of a kind of bone weariness? Is he at that point where the demands of life have defeated him? The assurance that “this, too, shall pass” no longer cuts it. He’s too exhausted, too depleted to look to the future. Either way, Elijah is not going to pick himself up, dust himself off and start all over again, not without help. So first God lets him sleep, and then an angel comes to feed him. Afterwards Elijah sleeps some more, and the angel comes again to make sure he is fed a second time. “Get up and eat,” the heavenly messenger says, “otherwise the journey will be too much for you.” [Elijah] 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.” The Lord does not reproach his unwilling prophet, nor does he yield to the man’s weary despair. Elijah’s journey is not yet over; God provides what is needed to get him back on life’s road.

          An African theologian, a woman who lived in a rigidly patriarchal community, was asked if her own experience of oppression made a male savior problematic. Her answer was interesting. She did not focus on the biological differences but on their shared cultural roles. Jesus did what in her society was quintessential women’s work, the things she learned from her mother and grandmothers and aunts — teaching those who depended on her, caring for the ones ailing in body or spirit, offering hospitality to folks in need of welcome, and nourishing people with food and words of comfort. She saw her vocation honored and blessed in the ministry of Jesus; his life reflected her experience. His kindness took note of her struggle and soothed her weariness. In today’s gospel Jesus tells the skeptical, restive crowd, “I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die” (John 6:48-50). He offers this invitation to everyone, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” Everyone has times when, like Elijah, they collapse under the weight of frustration or doubt, when they feel alienated and exhausted. Let this place be your broom tree; take your sabbath rest and shelter here for a while in the shade of God’s care. Don’t look ahead. The Lord has set the table for us now; eat the bread of life and drink from the cup of salvation. Then the journey will not be too much for you. By his grace we shall all go the distance. Amen.