I Kings 19:1-15a; Man on the Run (I)

"Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. 2 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.’ 3 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. 4 But 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.’ 5 Then he lay down under the broom tree and fell asleep. Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him, ‘Get up and eat.’ 6 He 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. 7 The 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.’ 8 He got up, and ate and drank; then he went in the strength of that food for forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of God. 9 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?’ 10 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.’ 11 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; 12 and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. 13 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?’ 14 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.’ 15 Then the Lord said to him, ‘Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus..."

Introduction

This engaging story occurs directly after Elijah's magnificent triumph atop Mount Carmel over the prophets of Baal. Many scholars have tried to point out how this story is inconsistent with ch. 18. Their argument is--how is it that a story of Elijah's fear is placed directly after Elijah's victory? This doesn't make sense to many scholars. But I say, in contrast, that such a pattern makes perfect psychological sense. One is often most vulnerable to fall and to depression after a signal triumph. Spectacular acts of stupidity or vulnerability often follow inspiring and inspiriting victories. Witness Richard Nixon's conduct in the wake of the 1972 Presidential election. He won all but two states; his popularity was seemingly at its peak. He decided he wanted to try to crush the remainder of his foes. The result--personal disaster. Witness the current President, who had 90% approval ratings at the end of 2001. Witness the story of David Cowens, center for the Boston Celtics in the 1970s. After they won a stirring NBA finals in 1974 at Boston Garden, he spent the night sleeping on a bench in a public park like a homeless person. Sometimes the seeds of our depression and loss and confusion are sown in tremendous victory. This will be my way of interpreting the Elijah's descent into fear in ch. 19 on the heels of his tremendous victory in ch. 18.

I. On The Run (19:1-4)

In the Elijah narrative people are in the habit of making vows. Elijah said in ch. 17: "As the Lord the God of Israel lives, before whom I stand, there shall be neither dew nor rain these years, except by my word" (17:1). Now it is Queen Jezebel's time to make a vow: "So may the gods to do me, and more also, if I do not make your life like the life of one of them (i.e., the dismembered prophets of Baal) by this time tomorrow" (19:2). Elijah swore by Yahweh, God of Israel; Jezebel by the unnamed "gods." Nevertheless, her vow sparked fear in Elijah. He was terrified and ran for his life. So fearful was he that he not only left the area of Jezreel, in the Northern Kingdom (Israel), but he ran until he came to Beersheba, the southernmost settlement in the Southern Kingdom (Judah). Fear often sparks an overreaction. Instead of just locking the door, we bolt it with a double lock, carve a moat around the home, put alligators in the moat, drop the portcullis in front of the door, etc. We will make ourselves so secure that even friends, who may want to help, have no means of entering.

But Elijah does more. He leaves his servant in Beersheba and he travels one more day into the wilderness (v. 4). By then he is exhausted. He isn't aware of the irony of his action. He who "stood up" successfully to Ahab, Jezebel, the prophets of Baal and every influence known to oppose the pure worship of Yahweh is now running for his life. Invulnverabilty on one day has given way to the greatest sense of vulnerability in the next. Fame with the crowds on one day; isolation in the desert the next. But this isn't an example of the fickleness of multitudes, multitudes who will worship you one day and call for your head the next. This is the fickleness of the prophet of God, who went, literally, from the mountain top to the desert. There are psychological truths in the miles of our own souls as Elijah puts miles of distance between himself and Ahab/Jezebel.

II. A Small Miracle in the Desert (19:4-9)

His only comfort after the double marathon South was a solitary broom tree. John Gray tells us that this desert tree, the rotem, had a delicate white flower with maroon center and was commonly found along the beds of wadis, or dried-up streams. Its beauty stood out from the surrounding dessication. The Hebrew text tells us that it was an ehad broom tree--a single tree. It, like Elijah, bore solitary witness to the creator. Like Jonah, who also sought comfort under such a tree from the heat of the desert, so Elijah sought some kind of relief in his famished and exhausted state. His mental state had changed completely from a few days previously, when he had been atop Carmel celebrating the heady victory over the prophets of Baal. All he now can say is this:

"It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors" (19:4).

Note that he doesn't contemplate taking his life; indeed, suicide isn't an option in ancient Israel. But he does the next thing to it--he prays for God to "end it all." There is a mingled despair, self-pity, and exhaustion in this prayer. But those who have suffered mental anguish in their lives know all too well the depths to which Elijah has descended. He (and they) has entered the deep spots in the psychological ocean, and then has found a narrow slit in the ocean floor, a Marianas Trench of the soul, where he descends further still into the inky abyss. All he can think of is his desire to die.

In a situation like this, Elijah (and those suffering extreme mental distress) need the voice of another person. By hearing only your own voice, your mind swirls endlessly and unhelpfully around certain predictable and unhelpful thoughts. You need some help from outside, some words of instruction or comfort or challenge. So, Elijah went to sleep. We don't know if he dreamed the following, or he was in a conscious state when these words came, but they changed him. "Get up and eat," was all it said. "Take it and read" was all St. Augustine needed in order to pick up the Book of Romans and come to a new understanding of life. So, "Get up and eat" became Elijah's "Augustinian moment," to speak anachronistically. He ate and drank, and went back to sleep. The text doesn't indicate whether Elijah was at all surprised to find food and drink prepared for him when he woke up from his sleep. It seems as if it might all have been sort of a blur. Then, a second time, he was told to "Get up and eat" (v.7). But this time the angel "touched" him (v. 7), leaving no doubt as to the reality of what was happening. And the angel also gave an explanation for the second meal. Elijah was just beginning his journey.

That must have come as surprising news to the Prophet of God. Here he thought he had fled far enough from Ahab/Jezebel finally to be safe. He was in Beersheba, on the outskirts of the Southern Kingdom. He did it even one better, by withdrawing deeper into the wilderness. Surely no one could get him here. No "federal witness protection program," where they give you a new identity and pack you up to a different city, could have helped him more. But what Elijah doesn't yet realize is that his journey is not simply away from his trouble but is, in fact toward God. We often feel in our distress that we simply have to avoid the problem, to "get out" of the anxiety that has come our way. But, in fact, what is happening is that we are slowly, and ineluctably, being drawn by the gracious arms of God into closer communion with the Divine. Elijah's story in I Kings 19 is symbolic of the movement of the soul when in victory or distress. God is drawing us deeper towards the Divine. What God wants is not so much our victories in Carmel, but our life in the wilderness. The victories on the mountaintops are ephemeral. They last a day. We live years, and have to build a foundation for living that will last all those days. Thus, the real message of this story and Elijah's trip in to the wilderness is that we find God not only on the mountain top of our victories but in the Sloughs of our Despond.

We are not yet done. The next essay finishes my thoughts.

2707