Elijah

On the Road & Searching for God

1 Kings 19:1-3, 9-18

Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. Then 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.’ Then 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.

At 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?” He 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.” He 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; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When 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?” He 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.”

Then 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. Also 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. Whoever escapes from the sword of Hazael, Jehu shall kill; and whoever escapes from the sword of Jehu, Elisha shall kill. Yet I will leave seven thousand in Israel, all the knees that have not bowed to Baal, and every mouth that has not kissed him.”


First of all, I have to confess, in case any of you were expecting me to stick to the script for this sermon series that I laid out in the newsletter a week or so ago … I changed my mind this week. I was originally going to preach about the story of Philip baptizing the Ethiopian eunuch “on the road” from the book of Acts. But then I realized that this story about Elijah was actually the one assigned for today, according to the lectionary. And I realized I was feeling a little more like Elijah these days, than like Philip (or the Ethiopian eunuch, thanks be to Jesus!), so I wanted to wonder some more about the prophet, Elijah, instead.

And while this story about the prophet, on the run and on the road and searching for God – in the wind and in the earthquake and in the fire, before finding God, finally, in the sound of sheer silence – is pretty well known, it’s important to know what led up to Elijah’s harrowing, holy experience up on Mr. Horeb.

The short version of the story is that the prophet Elijah – with the help of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob – put to shame a handful of the prophets of Baal by proving their god was a false, failure of a god. And then Elijah had those false prophets put to death.

According to the story, which plays out like some sort of divine, pre-historic game show – “Top Prophet,” you might have called it, or “Yahweh or The Highway,” perhaps – Elijah challenges the prophets of Baal to call upon their god to rain fire from the heavens in order to sacrifice a young bull, and prove his power and prowess as “God.”

When the prophets of Baal – and Baal, himself, actually – fail to deliver the fire they desire, Elijah humiliates them in front of all the people. Elijah sets up an altar, digs a trench around it, soaks it – not once, not twice, but three times – with enough water to fill a hot tub and then asks the God – our God – to bring the fire. And the one, true God – the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob – delivers enough fire to consume the altar, the stones, the dust, and all the water that filled the trench around it all, too. And then, rather than just let them leave with their humiliated tails between their proverbial legs, Elijah has all those prophets killed…

…which explains why Elijah is “on the road, again” this morning and on the run from Queen Jezebel – a worshiper of the false, failed god of Baal – who wants to avenge her god by putting Elijah to death for his little stunt with those prophets.

So, on the road and on the run for his life, Elijah finds himself alone and desperate and afraid, in the wilderness, asking for God – the same God who had saved him before, the same God who had established him as a prophet of the One True God, the same God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob – Elijah asks that he might just die. But after a dream and some conversation with some angels, some solid meals, and 40 days and 40 nights of wilderness wandering “on the road again,” Elijah ends up at Mount Horeb, wondering what in the world is next for him after all he’d done, all he’d run from, and all he had escaped in those days.

Elijah – faithful prophet that he was – is aching for, longing for, desperate and dying for God’s voice, God’s guidance, God’s presence to teach him or lead him or comfort him or show him something, anything about what could or should or would be next for him.

And haven’t we all felt something like Elijah at one time or another – in a wilderness of some kind; aching, longing, hungry; dying for guidance, for answers, for comfort, for direction? And haven’t we looked in all kinds of places for those answers, for that comfort, for some direction, for some measure of hope in the face of our frustrations and our fears? (Those of you who know about my wife, Christa’s, recent cancer diagnosis, will understand why Elijah’s story hit a little closer to home than that story about Philip and the eunuch.)

Well, God promises Elijah – on the road and up on that mountain – that he’s about to get what he longed for. Maybe Elijah thought some stone tablets might appear, with very clear instructions, as had happened for Moses, way back when. Maybe he was expecting a conversation or another meal or another angel, like before, who knows? None of that happened. But there was a great wind, strong enough to split mountains and break rocks, but the answer wasn’t in the wind. The wind was followed by an earthquake, but God wasn’t in the earthquake. And then there was a fire, (remember how much Elijah could do with some fire), but God wasn’t in the fire this time, either.

And after all of that, there is the sound of sheer silence. Utter noiselessness. Absolute stillness. Pure calm. Total tranquility. Complete quiet. The kind of nothing and silence you could touch… and feel… silence you could hear, even, as bizarre as that seems. And when Elijah hears that sheer silence he finally finds what he was looking for all along: direction… guidance… answers… hope… and the sure and certain power and presence of God.

And I don’t have any “aha moments” about what we’re currently dealing with at the Havel household – or about what’s in store for Christa in the months ahead – but I do know how easy it is to keep moving and to stay busy and to keep distracted so that the silence can’t get in. (The only way I can sleep sometimes, these days, is in the other room, with the news on, to keep my mind distracted by anything and everything besides what scares me the most, right now.)

So Elijah’s story is an example and inspiration for me – and I hope it will be for you, too – to not be scared of – to remember our need, really – for solitude; for prayer; for reflection; for stillness in the presence of God; for time away from the distractions of life, so that we can center ourselves faithfully on what God is calling us toward, as we make our way in the world. We are called to do more listening than talking on occasion; to be patient more and to push less. (Christa and I have realized that the last two weeks have gone by so quickly, with so many tests and scans and results and plans, we’re quite aware that that’s what has made this bearable in some ways.)

But I’m certain that’s not what God would have for any of us – all of the time.

We need more time for silence and stillness because, I think, that’s where God meets up with our greatest fears. See, there are earthquakes and fires and a whole lot of craziness swirling around us all of the time. There are threats of war and rumors of war. There are pandemics and politics and global warming and cancer and the beginning of another school year in the midst of it all.

And we are consumed and distracted by so many ideas and opinions about all of it; so much heartache and heaviness; so many lies and so much division we need to separate ourselves – for enough time to be reminded that God is in the midst of it, too; always for our sake and always for the sake of the world.

And this kind of silence and stillness, Elijah found; the kind of listening to and leaning on the God who is more powerful than any of it, can save our sanity and our lives and our souls on this side of heaven. And I haven’t been so great at it lately, as I’ve said. But this week, Elijah has reminded me that we’re really playing with fire when we refuse to get still, when we neglect to be quiet, and when we choose to be distracted, rather than allow ourselves to be found by the steady, patient, hopeful silence of God’s amazing grace.

Amen

Petering Out On The Mountaintop

Mark 9:2-9

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus. As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead. 


large_j6NCjU6Zh7SkfIeN5zDaoTmBn4m.jpg

Someone once told me they hated the Lord of the Rings movies. That was a hard thing for me to hear. As a die-hard Tolkien fan who has spent countless hours immersed in the mythology and adventures of middle-earth through the novels and films, it’s hard for me to comprehend how someone could say they hated the original trilogy of films; as imperfect as they were. 

This person elaborated, saying he stumbled upon the movie on TV and gave up after about a half-hour because he couldn’t understand what was going on. In the course of the conversation it became clear that he had seen just one of the movies in the original trilogy – the last one, The Return of the King

It’s no wonder he didn’t understand what was going on; there are six hours of film material that sets up The Return of the King. If he didn’t understand what the ring is, why a tiny hobbit and allies had set off to destroy it, or the dynamics of the forces and obstacles in their way, then there was no way he could be invested in the outcome of the story.

In a way, jumping into the story of the Transfiguration of Christ in Mark’s gospel account is like skipping the first two Lord of the Rings movies and only watching a ten minute scene from the third movie. You might appreciate the special effects or a particular line delivered by an actor, but you’re left with no clear understanding of how the scene fits into the larger story, much less what implications the story has for you.

So, briefly, here are the stories you need to know in order to appreciate the story of the Transfiguration.

Episode 1: Moses and Mt. Sinai.

The Lord summons Moses up the mountain where, over the course of 40 days and nights, Moses encounters God through wind, earthquake, and fire. Moses receives a lengthy list of commandments, starting with what we know as the ten commandments, but also including laws about the altar, slaves, violence, property, restitution, festivals, etc. The last thing Moses does before leaving the mountaintop is he requests that the Lord’s favor would be with him and his people. The Lord agrees. 

Moses returned to camp with the commandments and finds the people had made a golden calf idol to worship, effectively rejecting the Lord who brought them out of slavery. Moses is furious and smashes the stone tablets engraved with the commandments. The Lord is furious and threatens to destroy the people. Moses intervenes, however, and the Lord’s mind is changed…although the Lord still sends a plague upon the people. One could make the case that the people got sick less due to divine wrath and more likely because Moses had ground up the golden idol and made the people drink it. 

We’ll fast-forward decades after Moses’s mountaintop experience to Episode 2: Elijah and the SIlence.

Elijah was a prophet to the Northern Kingdom of Israel. Elijah led a military victory over followers of Baal, which outraged Jezebel, the Queen of the Northern Kingdom. Fearing for his life, Elijah fled from the promised land and went into the wilderness, eventually coming to Mt. Sinai. 

Elijah hopes for a Moses-like moment. He wants The Lord to appear in the fire, wind, and earthquake. He wants the Lord to bestow to him the new rules so that he could return to the promised land and usher in a new age of fidelity. He wants to be the new Moses. 

But this time on Mt. Sinai, Lord was not in the wind, earthquake, or fire; rather, God was in the sheer silence. Not a "still, small voice" (as has been erroneously translated), but it is in the silence that God speaks. In the silence, Elijah understands what he must do; he must return to the same people who had threatened to kill him and continue to proclaim the prophetic word of justice and truth. 

Jesus’s disciples and the first Christians were very familiar with these stories. They understood mountains had played a significant role as important places of divine revelation. They also understood that things go awry once you head down from the mountain and try to communicate your divine experience back in the “real world.” 

Fast-forward once more to Episode 3: Daniel and the Mysterious Figure

Daniel was a noble and faithful Hebrew man whom the Lord rescued from the den of lions. The final part of Daniel’s story involves an encounter with “a man clothed in linen….His face was like a flash of lightning, and his eyes were like burning torches” (Daniel 10:5-6). This luminous figure foretells of a great military victory for the Hebrew kingdom, ushering in a time of prosperity and peace; and concludes with a mysterious statement about the resurrection of the dead. This figure was often understood as a symbol of the Christ or Messiah.  

Here we have two stories of dine revelation happening on a mountain; and one story of a figure clothed in blinding white promising the Lord would lead the Hebrew people to victory on the earth. 

With these stories in our rearview, we can now turn our attention to today’s story of the Transfiguration. 

The writer of the Gospel of Mark likely thought this was an important story to include in his collection of Jesus-stories because it is so obviously in continuity with well-known Hebrew stories, as we’ve just explored. However, as with all the great gospel stories, it’s power is precisely where the story puts a radical spin on previously-held truths.

Jesus has been very active teaching, healing, and providing for the people suffering great need. At this point Peter has proclaimed Jesus as the Messiah. Only a couple verses later Peter rebukes Jesus for claiming that he would be killed by the religious and political forces. After all, Peter knew of the promise of victory given to Daniel by the mysterious figure. By talking about being killed, Jesus was getting the story wrong.

Jesus, Peter, James and John head up a high mountain and there Jesus is transfigured. His clothes become dazzling white and Elijah and Moses show up and start talking to Jesus.

Peter’s mind in blown. He knows something incredible is happening. Some new divine revelation is about to be revealed. And then it hits him. “Uh-oh, he thinks; I know what happens when people go back down the mountain…and it’s never good.” Peter’s excitement turns to terror.

Once more Peter rebukes Jesus, this time it’s proactive and subtle; but it is a rebuke nonetheless. Peter refers to Jesus as “Rabbi.” In Mark’s gospel, the disciples only ever call Jesus “Rabbi” when they’re about to challenge or confront him. It’s a power move, designed to pin Jesus within the confines of the established Hebrew religion – the one that promised great blessings for the people so long as they remained faithful.

So Peter calls out to Jesus, "Rabbi, it is good for us to be here." But what he's really saying is something like this...

“Hey Rabbi, don’t forget your obligation is to our religion, so whatever it is you’re talking about with those two, be careful. You know what, let’s just hang out up here. We got Moses and Elijah here, which is great. Plus, as long as we’re up here, we’re safe. Whatever you three are talking about is probably bad news for everyone else, and I don’t like giving people bad news. So, what d’ya say. Wanna pitch a tent and never go back down?”

And then comes a loud voice, saying, “This is my son, the beloved; listen to him.”

And there’s the twist of the story. On the top of this new mountain, there is no new divine revelation. No new commandments. No wind, fire, earthquake, or even silence. There is only the acknowledgment that everything Peter needs to know has already been said by Jesus before they summited the mountain.

And what has Jesus been saying recently? He has been talking about how he is going to die and be raised back to life.

Jesus has been sharing a new radical divine revelation the whole time. It’s the same message Peter rebuked Jesus for saying.

God’s purpose is not a military victory over Israel’s oppressors. God’s purpose is peace..

God’s purpose is not to give the Hebrews and Christ-followers all the world’s resources. God’s purpose is for all things to be shared abundantly among all people.

God’s purpose is not a cult of adulation. God’s purpose is the way of the cross.

As one biblical commentator puts it, God’s phrase, “Listen to him!” means that the disciples are to believe Jesus’ word that “rejection, suffering, death, and resurrection are integral to his messianic mission, and that the way of the cross is equally integral and inescapable for all who would follow him (cf. Mark 8:34–38).”*

There is always a chance that we would use the relative security of religion to wall us in from doing the real work of discipleship. The real work of discipleship is cruciform. It is going down from the mountain into the world that desperately needs the message of peace, love, hope, and unlimited forgiveness.

May you be aware of the times when your faith is “Peter-ing” out – the times when you desire to choose safety over service and comfort over care. God is on the mountain just as God is on the cross; but God also comes down from the mountain the same way God comes down from the cross. 

The real work of discipleship is cruciform. It is risky and dangerous. It calls us to move away from false assurances and instead to take the leap of faith into a path we cannot see.

The real work of discipleship is cruciform. It is driven by a love “that refuses to “play the world’s power game of domination, exploitation, greed, and deception.”**

The real work of discipleship leads to the cross, where everything that needs to die is put to death; and everything beautiful rises again, and again, and again; because the beautiful things in life will come back to us. 

Amen.

 

* Rodney J. Hunter, Feasting on the Word, p.452.
** Hunter, p.454.