12th Sunday after Pentecost
I have to say that I find this story about Elijah to be very relatable, enigmatic as it might appear. We don’t know what exactly is going on here with him, because the story doesn’t tell us. Suffice it to say that he has been through what many of us would probably consider a traumatic event. Elijah was called to be God’s prophet. Maybe he didn’t realize what exactly that might entail. Maybe he thought he had a good idea of what it might entail, but it ended up being much more difficult and complicated than he had imagined.
In order to understand Elijah, we need to know what has immediately preceded the reading for today. He has defeated the 450 priests of Baal, thus proving the superiority of the God of Israel. That event actually comes up in our cycle of readings once every three years. And that reading ends with the words: “38 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. 39 When all the people saw it, they fell on their faces and said, ‘The LORD indeed is God; the LORD indeed is God.’” (1 Kings 18:38-39).
But that’s not the last line of the account of the conflict between Elijah and the priests of Baal. The last and final line of that story tells us, “40 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.” (1 Kings 18:40). Notice that it doesn’t say something like “…and there they died” or “…and there he had them killed”. The sentence is quite plain: “…Elijah brought them down to the Wadi Kishon, and killed them there.” Elijah himself killed the 450 priests of Baal.
Jezebel was the Sidonian wife of King Ahab, who was the king of Israel. It was she who introduced King Ahab to worshipping Baal, who was the god of the Sidonians, drawing him away from the worship of the God of Israel. She was the patron of the priests of Baal, and so she was understandably upset when she discovered that they had all been killed by Elijah. So, she put out the word that she wanted Elijah killed in return.
Hopefully this gives us some background on where Elijah is coming from when he says, ““It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.” Now I have never personally slain 450 priests of a foreign god. Nor have I ever been under threat of death from a Middle Eastern queen. But having been through several of them in my own life, I do know what a major depressive bout looks like. The inability to move or do anything? The desire to cease existence so that the pain simply stops? I am all too familiar with those feelings. I get that.
It’s fascinating to me to see how the angel ministers to Elijah. Notice what the angel doesn’t do. The angel doesn’t say, “It’s not that bad.” The angel doesn’t say, “You need to just snap out of it.” The angel doesn’t say, “You need to exercise!” The angel doesn’t drag Elijah out to a movie, or a bar, or a restaurant. What the angel does do, is to meet Elijah where he is. The angel lets Elijah know that he is not alone. The angel lets Elijah know that he is cared for. And the angel sees to it that he is fed. Elijah allows himself to be cared for. It’s not a fancy meal. But it’s basic sustenance. Bread and water.
35Jesus said to [the crowd,] “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” Huh. Will you look at that. Bread and water. Whaddaya know…
One of the things that strikes me this year in reading through the 6th chapter of John is how wildly fickle the crowd of people is, whom Jesus has fed. If you think back to a couple of weeks ago when we had the actual story of the feeding of the 5,000, which precedes our reading for today, they were ready to lift him up on their shoulders, take him away by force, and make him their king. Then last week we heard him as he started trying to tell them, “No! You don’t get it! It’s not just about the bread! It’s about something bigger than the bread, or you, or me!” And when he starts drilling down on that idea, that it’s not just bread but the bread of life, how do the people respond? That’s where our reading picks up for today. And essentially what they say is, “Who does this guy even think he is?” When Jesus said, “I am the Bread that came down from heaven,” the people started arguing about him: “Isn’t this the son of Joseph? Don’t we know his father? Don’t we know his mother? How can he now say, ‘I came down out of heaven’ and expect anyone to believe him?” (John 6:41).
And who can blame them, because it’s not an easy thing to wrap your head around. Bread of Life? What does that even mean? The manna the Israelites ate in the desert was perishable, and the people who ate it died (John 6:47). Jesus is the bread from heaven that sustains life eternally. Jesus is bread and is redefining bread in this new context. He invites his audience to shift their thoughts from what Moses did in the past to what God is doing in the present.
The crowd associated Jesus with Moses, but Jesus invites them to understand him in other terms. Jesus is not a baked good in his physical makeup but, like bread, he sustains life. Jesus explicitly connects the idea of bread with life that is not merely physical. Death is no longer a threat because Jesus has promised that he will raise them on the last day. Jesus’ eternal life is a relationship with God that begins in faith and continues beyond the grave to eternity.
By comparing himself to bread, Jesus makes himself as necessary to us as the food we eat. He is our food, enabling us to live our life’s call, to be alive, our source of spiritual energy when exhausted, our consolation when we are troubled, our strength when we are weak, et cetera. But how? How does that happen??
Just so you know, in my head right now I’m celebrating a preaching trifecta because I’m about to start talking about the second lesson: that’s right! All three lessons in the same sermon!! And it’s not even a stretch!! Throughout this journey with Ephesians over the past several weeks, Paul has talked again and again about what it means to be the body of Christ. Today he presents us with an idealized image of what that means in very practical terms for us as individuals. So, what does that look like? Rather than engaging in deceit or lying, we speak the truth to one another, because we are all part of one another, because of the interconnectedness we share as followers of Jesus. It’s OK to be angry, but don’t hold on to it and allow it to turn itself into feelings of hatred or begrudgement. Embrace honest work, and do so not just for your own benefit, but for the benefit of those around you who are in need. Don’t talk about people in order to tear them down, but use the gift of language to build one another up and to be gracious to one another. Endeavor to do what the Holy Spirit calls you to do, rather than ignoring the promptings of the spirit. Resist the temptation to nurse grudges, justify our resentments, pick fights, and denigrate those with whom we disagree. Instead cultivate kindness, tenderheartedness, and forgiveness the same way God has extends those things to us in Christ.
Just cast your mind back to Elijah for a moment. Remember him? Imagine for a moment what it was like to be in his shoes. Utterly and completely exhausted. Totally spent. Depressed. Just waiting to die. And then suddenly an angel shows up, who meets you where you are, as you are, and for who you are. Who lets you know that you are cared for and loved. Who provides you with what you need: Rest and sustenance. Bread and water. And now imagine that this angel tells you their name is David, or Eveline, or Ann, or Linda, or Greg, or Eric, or Mike, or Carol, or Lois, or Beth, or Marty, or Darryl, or Brooke, or… Well, you get the picture. By striving to be “imitators of God”, as Paul puts it, we discover what it means to be God’s beloved children, and to live in love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us. In earnestly striving to embody the ideals that Paul talks about, we become the sustenance that the world requires. We become the bread and the water that God uses to point beyond us to the bigger thing that we represent, the love that we symbolize, the promise of resurrection that lies at the heart of who we are and what we do.
Let me tell you about how someone fed me in this way just recently. Last weekend, we held an auction at my parents’ house for the contents of the house. When we were talking to the auctioneers, they made very clear the importance of having food and having it all day. We talked to a couple of local churches, but none of them were really interested. Then my sister found out about a local Mennonite woman who does that kind of thing. She’s got a couple of special-needs kids in her family, and this is what she does to help raise money for their care. Florence is a tall, very quiet, and rather unassuming woman. She and her helper, Irene, who was the total opposite in so many respects, arrived in their ankle length long-sleeved dresses with their prayer caps pinned in place and with their coolers, their grill, their hot-dog roller, their homemade whoopy pies, and bags and bags of ice.
And even though they were busy, Florence took the time privately, at different times, to ask each of us, my three sisters and I, how we were doing. And she meant it. You could tell it just by the way she asked and by her thoughtful response. And she made sure that we had food to eat, and she refused to accept our payment for it. In the middle of what was a very hectic and emotionally loaded two days, she was a center of calm, compassion, and caring. And she offered each of my sisters a hug. If her conservative Mennonite beliefs would have permitted, I’m sure she would have offered me one, as well.
My sister checked in with her a couple of days later to make sure that everything was settled and to see if there were any loose ends to tie up. And Florence ended the conversation by thanking my sister again for giving her the honor of ministering to us. On those two days, at least, she truly embodied the last line of our reading from Ephesians, with which I will now close. 5:1Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, 2and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. AMEN