Elijah under the broom tree

Readings: 1 Kings 19:4-8    Psalm 34:1-8     Ephesians 4:25-5:2     John 6:35, 41-51

God, thank you for showing us, through Elijah's experience under the broom tree, that in returning and rest we will be saved.

Today, we are going to make some stone soup - several people are contributing, including you, I hope.

Here's what happened on Sunday:

Nancy and Madelyn demonstrated the Old Testament reading by acting out the story of Elijah under the broom tree, ministered to by an angel. If you weren't there, you missed out! They did a great job :-)

Then I discussed it, focusing on Elijah's emotional state, which we can recognize as depression, and here's what I said, basically, starting out with THE CONTEXT of the reading from 1 Kings.

You may know the story about Elijah having a showdown with the prophets of Baal on Mt. Carmel about who was really God: Yahweh or Baal.

The contest was that the prophets of Baal would pray to Baal to light the fire under their sacrifice, and Elijah would pray to God to light the fire under his sacrifice. Whichever god answered with fire would win, and the people would worship that god.

The prophets of Baal went first; they danced around the altar, leaping, shouting, and cutting themselves, until eventually they collapsed from exhaustion, but...

no fire - nothing.

Then Elijah took the field; he rebuilt the altar of the Lord, cut the wood, sacrificed the bull and placed it on the altar, and then he added a few other challenges to the contest. He had the altar doused with water until it was soaked, running down the altar and pooling at the base, filling up a wide trench around the altar.

Then he prayed:

O Lord, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, let it be known this day that you are God in Israel, that I am your servant, and that I have done all these things at your bidding. Answer me, O Lord, answer me, so that this people may know that you, O Lord, are God, and that you have turned their hearts back.

And immediately, FIRE came down from heaven:

Then the fire of the Lord fell and consumed the burnt offering, the wood, the stones, and the dust, and even licked up the water that was in the trench. When all the people saw it, they fell on their faces and said, “The Lord indeed is God; the Lord indeed is God.” Elijah said to them, “Seize the prophets of Baal; do not let one of them escape.” Then they seized them; and Elijah brought them down to the Wadi Kishon, and killed them there.

So, God won; Elijah and the people grabbed and killed all the prophets of Baal. Jezebel, the queen, was incensed when she heard about it.

She sent a messenger to tell him this:

“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 was putting out a hit on him, sending out her assassins. And coming from Jezebel, you could be sure it was no idle threat.

But, considering that Elijah had just witnessed God sending fire from heaven, you would think he might just laugh at a threat like that, knowing what a powerful God he was serving.

No, he was terrified. He took off - he went all the way to Beersheba, which is far.

Several times in the OT, when people want to say "from one end of the country to the other," talking about Israel, they say "from Dan to Beersheba."

(I'm not advocating the views of the website linked in the previous phrase, but the map is easy to understand and illustrates this point, and the website quotes several of the texts using this phrase. For more on how this phrase has played a role in Zionist colonialism, there are many articles if you do a Google Scholar search for "from Dan to Beersheba" including, for example, this one.) 

"From Dan to Beersheba" might be like us saying, in Texas, "from Orange to El Paso." So, when Elijah went to Beersheba, he went all the way to the edge of the country and kept on going - out into the wilderness - before he finally collapsed under a tree.

What he does and says at that point might not seem to be reasonable, except when we recall that Elijah is a human being, and he is subject to stresses and emotions and the effects they have on mind and body.

After having experienced intense stress, violence, and a life-threatening situation (any of these by itself would do), most people's adrenaline wears off and they kind of crash - feeling depression and fatigue, seeing things in extreme terms and maybe wanting to die. That's exactly what happens to Elijah. He can't run any further, he feels worthless ("I'm no better than my ancestors") he asks God to kill him, and then he falls asleep.

I called Fr. Vernon to get some insight into what depression is and what it looks like. Since he is also Dr. Gotcher, he knows quite a bit about this topic. He said there are 2 kinds: situational depression (from something that has happened), also sometimes called "reactive" depression, and endogenous depression (chemically-based), sometimes called major depression or unipolar depression. Endo-genous means "generated from within." This type is still not completely understood.

Dr. Gotcher said it's very common for people to experience situational depression after a traumatic, especially a life-threatening event. He told a story, which he said I could share, of a time when he spun out on a wet road and went up an embankment, stopping just short of sliding out in front of oncoming cars on the highway. As soon as he caught his breath and realized the car was stopped, he started laughing and crying all at the same time.

I had a complication from surgery in 2005 that sent me into a downward spiral and close to death. About a week later, my first night outside of ICU, I remember looking out the window and seeing the lights of a plane coming into Houston Intercontinental - and I started crying. The world was still going on; I was still in it. I cried off and on the rest of the night.
Depression is one of the normal responses to traumatic stress, even though it may not feel normal compared to how you act most of the time.

People don't normally burst into tears at random moments, wish that they could die, and fall asleep at the drop of a hat - at least, not when they're not depressed. When someone is depressed, all those things are normal.

Just like people aren't normally covered with red dots...   ...unless they have chicken pox or measles, or have been bitten all over by bed bugs, in which case, being covered in red dots is exactly what you would expect.

Elijah was no different than you or me. Elijah, the great prophet, who performed miracles, called on God to send fire from heaven, was taken up into heaven in a flaming chariot - Elijah was a human being, not a super human being. After the big showdown, killing hundreds of people, and then having his life threatened, he became depressed; he was exhausted, he felt his life's work had been pointless, and he wanted to die.

I think it's important to know that, under certain circumstances, all kinds of things can be normal.

God's response is also instructive. God sends an angel who wakes Elijah up and gives him some food.

Then he lets him sleep more.

God cares for Elijah and can provide a model for how we can help each other.

One woman on YouTube (whose video I will link as soon as I find it again) who has experienced depression said the thing that she thinks helps the most is to look after small things: fix a sandwich, wash clothes, bring some tea...


When my aunt came in to see me in the hospital the next morning and found me in tears, she helped me wash my hair. Later, when I got out of the hospital, they took me to their house to look after me for 2 months. The people of St. Mark's, my home parish, brought me food and did all sorts of other simple, thoughtful things. One person brought sweet pea blooms from her garden. Someone else brought me a prayer shawl. My brother and sister-in-law drove to Beaumont to stay with me for a week; they talked to me and took me for walks. A friend offered me a temporary job and helped me find an apartment. And it went on and on.

I said we are going to make soup.

I've started it off, Madelyn and Nancy and Fr. Gotcher have contributed, along with some people from the internet. Now, I'd like you to add something.

Here's what I'm asking you to do: Remember a time you experienced God's care for you like Elijah experienced under the broom tree, and write about it. How were you ministered to? Don't try to tell then entire story - just focus on one instance of God caring for you, in whatever form that took.
Then, read over what you've written and consider whether it's something you'd be willing to share. Feel free to edit until you have what you are comfortable sharing. I recommend leaving out names, unless you specifically want yourself identified. Then, add it into the comments section below.

Something to keep in mind: Being ministered to doesn't mean that, afterwards, everything was solved; the angel woke Elijah up from his rest under the broom tree and gave him more food so he could walk an even longer distance - and then climb a mountain.

It can be a helpful thing to hear other people's experiences. It can also be a helpful exercise to look back on your own story and see God caring for you so that you can offer thanks if you didn't at the time (or again - no danger of offering God too much gratitude). Your stories may offer reassurance of God's presence and hope for someone else.

I also recommend reading how Elijah's story continues in the rest of 1 Kings 19 once he reaches Mt. Horeb.

Transfiguration

This sermon is posted here. It was written for the "Sermons That Work" series and also delivered in a modified form to St. John's in Silsbee.

Shine in our hearts

Shine in our hearts, Lord Jesus, and light us up so that you shine out of us as well. Amen

Readings
Let's reflect a bit today on theophany – that's a word for things like what we just read, Moses seeing God face to face and the disciples seeing Jesus transfigured into light and talking to Moses and Elijah, and God's voice coming out of a cloud.
Theophany is when God reveals himself in ways that we can't deny, when God shows up in ways that freak us out because they are so real, when something happens that moves us so deeply, we either say or do idiotic things trying to make some kind of response - or we don't' talk about it at all because we can't find any words that will work to really convey what happened.
You may not often talk about those experiences, or maybe you only tell one other person or a couple of people you really trust, but there is no way you can ever forget what you saw or what you heard or what you felt in that moment. And there's no way you can go back to how it was not knowing that things like that are real. Even though later, you may question whether you dreamed it or imagined it, deep down you know you didn't make it up.
And I think we hope that what we experience in moments like that is the true reality. We hope that what we see around us in mundane daily life is just a pale reflection of the way things really are, what life really is at the core. The difficulty in hope, though is it's a (seemingly) very fragile thing, and you hesitate to lay it out completely because you're not sure it could survive disappointment. Or maybe you know somehow deeply that if you completely hope for all you desire, there's no way you could stay in control – you'd be at the mercy of how God responds. And if you laid out your deepest hope to God, you couldn't stay aloof from him and safe from what you fear would happen if you found that God either doesn't want or isn't able to fulfill what you hope for – that your hope may in fact be foundationless. You think your hope is what keeps you alive, and you couldn't survive losing it.
So you hedge your prayers, you pray for what seems reasonable, for what God couldn't refuse; you pray in ways that give God an "out" in case he doesn't answer or doesn't want to or maybe isn't actually able to – because maybe he doesn't actually exist …
But why do you think we have hopes if there isn't actually a reality they're based on? Thomas Aquinas hashed this question out from both the theological and philosophical point of view, and he says we're right to hope - because God does exist and God is good – and he hasn't made a desire without its object. We have hope because there is such a thing as its fulfillment. Aquinas says that if we have a desire, not only does its object exist, but it's attainable and it's also good – in fact, it's intended. God isn't cruel – he hasn't made us so that we hope for things that don't exist or are bad for us or that he has no intention of giving us – so that we'll eternally be frustrated in our deepest desires.
No, God is good, and he's given us good desires, and he's also put in us a desire for himself as the greatest good, so when moments of theophany happen, we are getting a glimpse, a taste of what is most deeply true about God's relationship to us and his love for us.
So, if what we hope for is predicated on a real object, then its fulfillment is possible, and if in fact, this fulfillment was designed and intended by God and is in God's power to grant, then we should have no fear in asking for it – because it's already what God also wants: our wholeness, our integration. What you most deeply desire… already is – and is in God's power to give you.
Are you willing to risk asking for it?
And I mean hopes – those things you most deeply ache for, that you don't think are even reasonable, that you don't think you have any business asking God for because there's no way they could be accomplished. It would take a miracle…
That's what I'm talking about –what kind of church is this if it's not about miraculous expectation? So I'll tell you what I've started doing as a result of this thought process: I've started asking God for what I hope for St. John's: for you as a community and you as individuals. I invite you to do the same… Hope everything you can imagine for us and ask God to do it. And don't hedge or make qualifications to "let God off the hook" in case it doesn't happen – that is your fear and attempt to control the situation so that you can't be disappointed. Instead, try risking disappointment on God.
I'm praying that God starts to breathe on your hearts so that the little embers of hope in there start heating you up inside and even starting to hurt – some of the prophets have said God's word can feel like a fire in your bones. I'm hoping that what he desires for us begins to burn inside us also, until it starts to shine out in our faces and in what we say and what we do. What are y'all waiting for anyway? "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you'll return."

An interesting thing about fire, which I've learned from the firefighters in Vidor, is that it doesn't even have to touch its fuel to ignite it. A fire in one spot can gradually heat an entire area, and anything that can be fuel, when it reaches its ignition temperature, will spontaneously combust at that point. So, in a room where there's a fire in one corner, when the entire room reaches a certain temperature, will completely erupt in flame everywhere.

It's called flashover. Here is another video showing fire behavior leading up to a rollover (burning across the ceiling) and then a flashover (everything erupting in flame).

You know somebody's been burning churches in east Texas, and the interesting thing about that, I think, is they're confusing a symbol of God's power with the thing itself, as though a fire in a church building would destroy the Church. It's the same mistake people make when they try to kill Christians – when they tried to kill Christ. In our worship, fire represents to us God's presence with us in the Holy Spirit, and at Jayde's baptism last week, we lit a candle to symbolize the light of Christ in her heart. Fire is a symbol of God's presence because, like fire, God is not safe, not predictable.
Talking about flashover, maybe Pentecost was something like that. My prayer is that during Lent, God will breathe on you and start a little fire in a corner of your heart, and we'll see what happens by Pentecost.
Amen.

Given to St. John's, Silsbee

February 14, 2010