Grace Presbyterian Church
May 29, 2016, Pentecost 2C
1 Kings 18:20-40; Galatians 1:1-7;
Luke
7:1-10
Calling Down Fire
Elijah is, to put
it mildly, one of the more difficult characters in scripture to comprehend. He
seems to come out of nowhere; unlike many of the major characters of Hebrew
Scripture like Moses or David, we don’t get much of a life story for him. His
presence in biblical story is pretty brief; a few chapters at the end of 1
Kings and the very beginning of 2 Kings. He is attributed feats of superhuman
strength (presumably by divine favor, although it isn’t always made clear) that
would qualify him as a character in a Marvel superhero movie. And when his time
comes, instead of dying like a mere mortal, he is caught up for a ride in a
flaming chariot.
His reputation
lives on after his death, or final chariot ride. He shows up along with Moses
in gospel accounts of the Transfiguration, and his name is invoked at Jesus’s
crucifixion, when someone from the crowd wonders if Elijah will come to save
him. In modern Jewish practice a chair is reserved for Elijah at circumcision
services, and at a Seder meal the door is opened and Elijah is invited in, and
a cup of wine is set at a place at the table reserved for him. As a Jewish
friend of ours pointed out to me, though, Elijah never shows up and the wine
never gets consumed – a waste of good wine.
A figure like
Elijah can take on legendary status – it can be very hard for us to conceive of
Elijah as human, with all the flaws and faults that implies, when he is calling
down fire, outrunning a chariot, running from Israel to Sinai, or disappearing
in a trail of flame. That would be a mistake, though; even in his great moments
Elijah displays flaws from which we would do well to learn, if only to learn to
avoid.
The story covered
by today’s lectionary reading is probably the most famous part of Elijah’s
narrative, except possibly for the fiery-chariot departure from the planet.
It’s the kind of scene that big old-fashioned Hollywood biblical epics are made
of: a dramatic confrontation; wild, frenzied action (particularly on the part
of the Baal prophets, in their desperation to get a response from their
nonexistent god); a charismatic and slightly crazy lead in confrontation with
the political authority of his day; and a spectacular climax (with superior
dramatic buildup) that would be a great opportunity for the special-effects
department to do their thing. In fact, it rather amazes me that the story of
Elijah hasn’t been made into such a movie somewhere along the way, although it
does get a good dramatic treatment in Felix Mendelssohn’s oratorio about the
prophet, Elijah.
Still, though, if
we poke around the ends and the corners of this account, there are a few parts
that should give us pause.
First, though,
it’s worth setting the scene. Israel (the northern kingdom at this point in
biblical history, in contrast to the southern kingdom Judah) has, largely under
the influence of Israel’s king Ahab and his foreign-born queen Jezebel, taken
up the worship of the idol Baal, a figure in non-Jewish religions to which is
attributed power over rain. In response to this, Elijah predicted a drought to
fall on Israel, which indeed happened; by the time of today’s reading the
drought has been in effect for three years. Elijah has first been in hiding in
the wilderness, and later with a family in Zarepath, in the region of Sidon,
outside Israel (next week’s scripture reading will cover this part of the
story).
Now it was no new
thing for the people of God to go astray and give their homage to idols. Nor is
it a thing confined only to the darker past of such corners of Hebrew Scripture
as this. They many not be carved wood or stone, and we may not trust them to
provide rain for our crops, but even today the people of God are far too prone
to give their allegiance and their trust in false gods, willingly supplied by
the culture and society in which we live.
Those of you who
follow college sports saw an example of just such a thing in this week’s
headlines about Baylor University, which initiated proceedings to dismiss its
president, athletic director, and football coach in the wake of an
investigation revealing failure to take seriously numerous allegations of
sexual abuse of female students on the campus, by male students including but
not limited to football players. Despite its self-described status as a
Christian institution of higher learning, Baylor apparently tolerated one of
the most vile and unchristian, not to mention criminal, actions one human being
can inflict upon another, apparently blinded by the idol of athletic prowess
and success according to a very worldly status. Idols take many forms these
days, but don’t ever be deceived into thinking they don’t exist anymore just
because nobody’s physically bowing down to carved wooden statues.
But back to Elijah.
God does give a command to Elijah in the face of the three-year drought, but
nothing so elaborate as you might think. In 18:1, God issues this word to
Elijah: “Go, present yourself to Ahab; I
will send rain on the earth.”
That’s it.
Nothing about a
big altar-burning contest. Nothing about any kind of big display, or show of
force. Just a command to go to the king. But from this Elijah has extrapolated
this elaborate contest. When he does meet Ahab, in verses 17-19, he doesn’t
even say anything about rain coming. Ahab tosses off an insult at Elijah,
calling him “troubler of Israel,”
and Elijah rants back and challenges Ahab to the contest with the prophets of
Baal.
One can look at
this a few ways. Elijah is simply confident in God to support him. Or Elijah
has an ego the size of a planet to think he can challenge the king and have God
automatically back him up. Or Elijah has a hair-temper trigger and goes off
half-cocked rather easily. Or Elijah has the mindset of a Celebrity Pastor; why
simply proclaim the good news when you can put on a monumental show?
To be honest, I
think there’s something to be said for the latter view. After all, Elijah
doesn’t just challenge Ahab to the contest, but makes a theatrical event out of
it at every step. The way Elijah mocked and derided the Baal prophets during
“their turn,” you’d think he took taunting lessons from professional athletes.
And when it’s finally his turn, he doesn’t just call out to God to consume the
fire. Noooooo…first he has to make a great display of drenching the altar
thoroughly, using an amount of water that makes very little sense at the height
of a three-year drought.
And yet… “…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.”
Elijah would
hardly be the first or last such leader to be subject to temper, or excess, or
theatrical overload. Our reading from Galatians captures just a small part of
the vitriol Paul unleashes upon the believers in that community over their
being misled by religious leaders who taught them rather less good news that
Paul and his company had taught. His anger at their straying is palpable and
only builds until finally, at 3:1, he exclaims, “You foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you?” But at least he
doesn’t have anybody killed.
There it is, in
verse 40, which the assigned lectionary would have me leave out; those prophets
of Baal are rounded up and executed. Let me put aside all delicacy and say
bluntly (as much as it is a shame that this even has to be said, but such is
the world in which we live) that this is not good, and it certainly isn’t
commanded of God. There are plenty of disturbing passages in the Old Testament,
back in books before 1 Kings, in which God really is portrayed as ordering the
king or the prophet to slaughter their enemies (usually an opposing army,
though), but there is no such mandate from God here; remember, all Elijah was
told to do was to present himself to the king, and that rain would soon some.
Everything else here is Elijah’s doing.
Some scholars
argue that Elijah is taking retribution on Jezebel for killing the prophets of
the Lord, as noted in 18:4. But since when is retribution Elijah’s to take?
Violence in return for violence only guarantees more violence, as Elijah
himself will find out in the next chapter. This weekend, and the Memorial Day
that is observed this weekend, should serve as a reminder of that hard fact, if
nothing else. In a day when far too many people are far too ready to kill in
the name of God, this bit of “inspiration” from Elijah we don’t need.
The story of Jesus
and the centurion found in the day’s gospel reading stands in stark contrast to
the Elijah story. First of all, rather than the putative people of God straying
from faith, the protagonist is a Roman centurion, an officer of an occupying
army, who shows greater faith, according to Jesus, than he had seen in Israel.
Secondly, it’s worth noting that Jesus did not consider it beneath himself to
go to meet this centurion and the slave who was “close to death.” Rather than one to be destroyed, Jesus saw one to
be extended the healing, the wholeness, and the love that it was his mission to
show to God’s people. And in the centurion’s clumsy if earnest equation of
Jesus’s power to that of a higher military authority, Jesus found a seed of
faith that he went out of his way to respect.
Today it seems
that Christianity bears maybe too much resemblance to the wrong examples in
this story. We get led astray by false teachers, like the Galatians, or we vent
our anger at other Christians like Paul (who, it should be said, did eventually
get himself under control). We take up destructive idols like the people of
Israel, or we appoint ourselves executors of God’s wrath like Elijah.
There’s only one
worthy of our worship. We may not erect idols of wood or stone and bow down and
worship, but don’t let’s kid ourselves; we create and adulate plenty of idols,
and I don’t just mean the ones on that TV singing competition. Our adulation of
wealth, or influence, or status; our fanatical support of a political party or
figure; even excessive allegiance to a sports team or league or game – any of
these, or any kind of overzealous allegiance, can become a false god, claiming
adoration and emulation and worship that belongs only to God. It’s not for
nothing that John Calvin described human nature as a “perpetual factory of idols”. [i]
And yet the overzealous avenger is no better a position to take, bringing only
destruction and death rather than life and healing.
As much as we may
respect and admire and even learn from the likes of Elijah or Paul, Moses or
David or the Apostles, we have only one Person in our Bible who is worthy of
emulation or imitation, and most certainly only one Person worthy of worship;
the one who frees us, both from the idols to which we would enslave ourselves
and the claims of retribution by which we would destroy ourselves. “We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the
only Son of God…”[ii]
Thanks be to God. Amen.
