Travails with Elijah and Elisha

JUNE 11-16, 2020                    (1 Kings 19-21 and various Psalms – see each day’s lectionary)

Travails with Elijah and Elisha

Thursday, June 11, 2020         (Thursday’s lectionary)

We call Jeremiah the Weeping Prophet. What about Elijah? The typical male “funnel of anger” funnels the “wimpy, weepy” emotions down into the less frightening (to me) emotion of anger. Elijah might have been a posterboy for this. He was angry at Ahab, angry at Jezebel, angry at the foreign priests to the point of genocide, angry at his fellow prophets (“I’m the only one left!”), angry at God, angry at Elisha. He flew into heaven on a fiery chariot; he might have been that sometimes-righteous fire his own self and just took off one day like a rocket into heaven.

Such a contrast between Elijah, the man Jesus was expected to emulate, and Barnabas, the encourager, the smiling helper, the muscular butterfly working to bring unity everywhere he went. It is strange, to say the least, to see the Memorial for Barnabas wedged into the lectionary between these stories of the burning prophet Elijah.

Not to say they were not BOTH good men, filled with the Holy Spirit and with faith. God knows what she’s doing. And one thing God does, every time, is work with imperfect creatures. I love that the Bible does not hesitate to show us the shadow and the light.

But still, I wish I could have known their parents, Elijah and Barnabas, searched their family trees, meditated on their family systems, seen their siblings, understood a little more of what made these human beings tick. Love one another, as I have loved you.

The Lord has done mighty deeds with his right hand.

He has killed for you with his holy arm.

But still, remember his kindness and his faithfulness.

In all these traits of God and traits of his created ones,

We  break into song and fall down in praise.

Friday, June 12                  (Friday’s lectionary)

There were times when Elijah just panicked, and in those days there was no xanax, neither Jack Daniels nor Tank and tonic, no respite really, no olives soaked in vermouth but only manna and meat dropped on the ground by ravens, with just enough cool spring water now and then.

Elijah was exhausted. He stormed, he raged, he shouted out his prayers, he watched his bull burn. Exultant, he commanded capture of the foreign priests as they sought to slink away, then took his sword and demonstrated what he wanted done to them and watched the bloody massacre that followed.

And he began to feel the promise of rain at last. He told Ahab what to do (Ahab rarely stood up to anyone), and then Elijah ran and ran, first to Jezebel and then from her, from Mount Carmel to Jezreel to Mount Horeb. There he sought refuge in a cave, unsure of how threatened he was by Jezebel’s vengeful posse.

God chose Mount Horeb (Sinai) for moments of confrontation with his chosen ones. It was the site of Noah’s landing, of Moses watching God burn the Ten Commandments on two tablets (twice!), and now the hiding place of Elijah. Elijah was not allowed to languish long, or stay back deep inside the cave, even though he tried. First a hurricane, then an avalanche, an earthquake, finally fire tempted him out. But no, not yet.

It was the silence that changed things, a still small voice Elijah thought must first have thought was just in his mind. But no.

“Come out, Elijah.”

Elijah hid his face in his cloak and stood at the entrance of his cave.

God repeated the same question he had asked Elijah earlier during his escape.

Why are you even here?

Elijah repeated his answer. “I am full of self-pity, Father.” No that’s not what he said. But it’s what he meant.

I have been most zealous for You, but the rest of your children have not, and I alone am left. And they are trying to kill me, too.

God looked down from his heavenly throne on his servant Elijah. His patience overtook his frustration with this chosen servant.

What you say is not entirely true. The faithful remain, seven thousand of them in fact. But I can see you are exhausted. You have done well, good and faithful servant. It is time to pass your mantle on.

Elijah was given three anointings to perform, two of kings and one of Elisha, “who as prophet will succeed you.”

In your anger, Lord, you have not expelled me.

Instead you remain my helper.

I can indeed wait for you with courage

And be stouthearted.

Let me shine like a light in the world.

I will hold on tight to the Word of Life.

 (I have to also just say that Mt. Horeb is a beautiful town southwest of Madison, Wisconsin, on the edge of the hill country and not far from Taliesen, home of Frank Lloyd Wright. I would love to visit, try a craft beer and a burger, lie in a hammock surrounded by Norwegians …)

 Saturday, June 13       (Saturday’s lectionary)

This is the day to find something you have lost. “Saint Anthony, please look around. Something is lost and must be found.” The medal of Saint Anthony of Padua hangs on many a neck. I’ll bet you have a story.

St. Anthony was a great, great Franciscan preacher. Far more often than jewels or car keys, St. Anthony found lost souls. God filled his short thirty-six years of life to the brim.

As he did Elijah’s. Elijah doesn’t get to anoint the new kings, but others follow in his wake, and will. He goes first to Elisha (whose name means “my God is salvation”), rich kid plowing with twenty-four oxen in the family field when Elijah finds him. Elijah throws his cloak over Elisha, and that was that.

Elisha’s family threw a parting party for their prophet-son, who burned his bridges behind him when he killed the oxen to eat at the party. He left and followed Elijah, most wanted or hero of Israel, depending on who you talked to. Elisha couldn’t believe it. He was suddenly apprentice to God’s prophet, about to be let out on his own.

I don’t need that inheritance, Lord

I have you.

My allotted portion, my cup runs over

I have you.

All day you counsel me

At night my heart speaks your words

Always at all times

I have you.

In you my heart is glad

In you my soul rejoices

In you my body abides with confidence

Sunday, June 14, 2020                        (today’s lectionary)

Feast of Corpus Christi

At the end of their forty year journey Moses said to the crowds,

He afflicted you with hunger and then fed you with manna. Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of the Lord.

Moses spoke from experience to the experience of his listeners:

The Lord has guided you through the vast and terrible desert. The Lord brought forth water for you from flint rock. The Lord fed you in the desert with manna …

… After Moses, Jesus cried out to his own Jewish crowds.

I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Unlike your ancestors who ate and still died, whoever eats this bread will live forever. Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. My flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him …

… After Jesus, Paul wrote to his Corinthians.

This cup of blessing, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? And this bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? …

… And after Paul, Jacques Pantaleon, son of a French cobbler become Bishop of Verdun heard stories from St. Juliana of her visions of the Eucharist. Later Monsieur Pantaleon became Pope Urban IV and heard a second story from Father Peter of Prague of blood seeping from a consecrated Host. The pope placed these relics in the cathedral and proclaimed the feast St. Juliana had asked for. He commissioned a thirty-nine year old Dominican named Thomas Aquinas to write the mass for this new feast, which celebrates God’s manna and God’s pigeons, God’s water from flint rock, and Jesus’ body, blood, soul and divinity in the bread and wine of the Eucharist.

Monday, June 15, 2020                       (today’s lectionary)

There are stories in the Bible of evil, selfish, powerful men. And the women that feed them. Jezebel fed King Ahab of Israel, who was a coward and a thief. He wanted some neighboring property but the owner Naboth wouldn’t give it to him. Ahab went home, lay down on his bed and refused to eat. Poor baby.

Jezebel asked him why. He told her his sorry sob story. Jezebel chastised him, of course, and took matters into her own hands. “Get up and eat. Be the king. Smile a little!”

She wrote letters in Ahab’s name, inventing an ugly form of eminent domain. The letters instructed Naboth’s city leaders to bribe two men who must accuse Naboth of blasphemy and treason. The leaders did, and the liars did, and the naïve listeners stoned Naboth to death for his crimes. Then Jezebel told her wastrel husband to go and take possession of the vineyard.

Ugly!

What do you think God did? Nothing? Nope. See tomorrow’s lectionary …

From the bloody ground the blood of Naboth speaks …

O God you do not delight in wickedness

The arrogant will not stand in your sight

You hate evil and you hate evildoers

You destroy falsehood and those who speak it

Attend, O Lord, to my sighing

Heed my call for help, O God

Tuesday, June 16, 2020                      (today’s lectionary)

It doesn’t get much better than this, whether you’re a fan of redemptive violence or not. The wild man Elijah is not flown yet from the Israeli coop.

Go down to see Ahab, Elijah. You know, the one who is married to Jezebel?

You will find him in Naboth’s vineyard, smirking. Tell him this, Elijah, tell him this:

In this place, where dogs licked up Naboth’s blood, those dogs will lick your blood up too!

In the presence of these awful words, Ahab stood up straight. “Have you found me out, my enemy?”

Elijah just said, “Yes.”

At first he just said yes, but then his rage-aholism got the better of him. “I will destroy you, cut off all the males in your line, ruin your house. You provoked me, you led Israel into sin, and now you shall be devoured by dogs, and Jezebel will be devoured by dogs, and Ahab’s line will be devoured by dogs. Either that or the birds will peck their flesh off piece by piece.”

Elijah rose up more and more righteous. Or self-righteous. “You were the most evil one ever, you just gave yourself up and became completely abominable!” Elijah glared to Ahab, and Ahab wished he had never been born, but it was too late.

Instead Ahab tore his garments and put on sackcloth over bare flesh, which scratched him and made him bleed. He fasted, though, and he even slept in the sackcloth, and quieted himself.

Have mercy on me, O Lord

In your great compassion wipe out my sin

I know I have sinned. This is before me always, and I cannot forget or look away.

I have sinned against you, done what is evil against you,

O Lord, only you can blot out my guilt

O God, my saving God

Elijah’s words frightened King Ahab badly. And when God saw this he pointed it out to Elijah (who probably was not happy). God seems to be much less of a raging bull than his prophet was.

Since he has humbled himself before me I will NOT bring evil in his time.

God does know the way of justice, though.

I will bring the evil upon his house during the reign of his son.

As God did also with the author of Psalm 51 (above), with David.

The parallels between David and Ahab go on and on:

  1. They both coveted what belonged to another.
  2. They saw what they coveted from the comforts of their palace.
  3. They already had plenty of what they were coveting.
  4. They killed to get what they wanted.
  5. A prophet uncovered both of their sins.
  6. They both acknowledged their guilt.
  7. A punishment was sent not upon them, but their house.

Still, I’d rather be David than Ahab, quaking before God in my boots, standing in the need of prayer.

David lusted after Bathsheba and killed her husband, but Ahab was overtaken by Jezebel and allowed her to turn his people toward idols. David honored God and God’s servant King Saul, but Ahab seemed to honor nothing. Also, David was affected permanently by his sin and repentance. Ahab returned to his rebellion.

Grateful I am for God’s tender mercy, his compassion, his patience and his grace.

We fail … I fail to follow the simplest, starkest commandments.

Love one another as I have loved you.

Whoever is angry with his brother is guilty of murder.

Don’t lust. If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away.

Don’t say what you don’t mean. Don’t manipulate words to get your own way.

Don’t hit back, ever. Stand there and take it.

Love your enemies. Pray for them.

There is so much to say about these gospel texts from the last few days.

Coming soon.

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