Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, how he had killed all Baal’s prophets with the sword. Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah with this message: “May the gods do whatever they want to me if by this time tomorrow I haven’t made your life like the life of one of them.”
Elijah was terrified. He got up and ran for his life. He arrived at Beer-sheba in Judah and left his assistant there. He himself went farther on into the desert a day’s journey. He finally sat down under a solitary broom bush. He longed for his own death: “It’s more than enough, Lord! Take my life because I’m no better than my ancestors.” He lay down and slept under the solitary broom bush.
Then suddenly a messenger tapped him and said to him, “Get up! Eat something!” Elijah opened his eyes and saw flatbread baked on glowing coals and a jar of water right by his head. He ate and drank, and then went back to sleep. The Lord’s messenger returned a second time and tapped him. “Get up!” the messenger said. “Eat something, because you have a difficult road ahead of you.” Elijah got up, ate and drank, and went refreshed by that food for forty days and nights until he arrived at Horeb, God’s mountain. There he went into a cave and spent the night.
The Lord’s word came to him and said, “Why are you here, Elijah?”
Elijah replied, “I’ve been very passionate for the Lord God of heavenly forces because the Israelites have abandoned your covenant. They have torn down your altars, and they have murdered your prophets with the sword. I’m the only one left, and now they want to take my life too!”
The Lord said, “Go out and stand at the mountain before the Lord. The Lord is passing by.” A very strong wind tore through the mountains and broke apart the stones before the Lord. But the Lord wasn’t in the wind. After the wind, there was an earthquake. But the Lord wasn’t in the earthquake. After the earthquake, there was a fire. But the Lord wasn’t in the fire. After the fire, there was a sound. Thin. Quiet. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his coat. He went out and stood at the cave’s entrance. A voice came to him and said, “Why are you here, Elijah?”
He said, “I’ve been very passionate for the Lord God of heavenly forces because the Israelites have abandoned your covenant. They have torn down your altars, and they have murdered your prophets with the sword. I’m the only one left, and now they want to take my life too.”
The Lord said to him, “Go back through the desert to Damascus and anoint Hazael as king of Aram. Also anoint Jehu, Nimshi’s son, as king of Israel; and anoint Elisha from Abel-meholah, Shaphat’s son, to succeed you as prophet. Whoever escapes from the sword of Hazael, Jehu will kill. Whoever escapes from the sword of Jehu, Elisha will kill. But I have preserved those who remain in Israel, totaling seven thousand—all those whose knees haven’t bowed down to Baal and whose mouths haven’t kissed him.” 1 Kings 19:1-18 (CEB)
We’ve all felt it. The whiplash between a monumental success and the hollow crash that follows. The exhaustion that floods in after a period of intense stress and high performance. You give everything you have to a project, a cause, or a confrontation, and you win. But instead of elation, you’re met with a profound sense of emptiness, fear, or burnout. This is not a modern phenomenon. It’s a 3,000-year-old story, and its protagonist is one of the most powerful prophets in the Bible.
In today's reading, the prophet Elijah had just experienced the victory of a lifetime on Mount Carmel, a fiery, dramatic showdown where he single-handedly defeated 450 prophets of the false god Baal. It was a spectacular display of divine power. Yet, immediately following this peak, the bottom falls out of Elijah’s world. He flees into the wilderness, overcome by despair, and asks God to end his life. This ancient story of a prophet's worst day offers profound and timeless lessons for anyone who has ever found themselves at rock bottom after a mountaintop high.
Even the Strongest Among Us Can Hit Rock Bottom
The most jarring part of Elijah’s story is how quickly the ground shifts beneath his feet. One moment he is a triumphant prophet of God; the next he is running for his life. After King Ahab told his wife, Queen Jezebel, what Elijah had done, she sent a messenger with a death threat: "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" (1 Kings 19:2).
In response, the Bible says Elijah "was afraid; he got up and fled for his life" (1 Kings 19:3). He journeyed a full day into the wilderness, sat down under a solitary broom tree, and prayed a prayer of complete despair.
“It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.” (1 Kings 19:4)
This moment humanizes a larger-than-life spiritual figure. It shows us that profound despondency can follow even the greatest victories. His prayer is not just a plea for death, but a yearning to escape a world he no longer recognizes and rejoin his ancestors in the grave. Fear, exhaustion, and a sense of failure are not signs of a lack of faith, but a deeply human part of the spiritual condition, experienced even by those we consider giants.
Sustenance Can Come from Unexpected and Unacknowledged Sources
At his lowest point, Elijah falls asleep under the tree. He is then touched by an angel who tells him, "Get up and eat." He finds "a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water" waiting for him (1 Kings 19:6). This miraculous provision happens twice, giving him the strength to journey for forty days to Horeb, the mountain of God.
But where did this food come from? Rev. Winnie Varghese offers a powerful insight, noting that the "cake baked on hot stones" is likely a form of "Bedouin bread." This detail reframes the miracle. God’s provision comes through the hands and traditions of the local indigenous people—strangers who are not part of the main narrative but who practice a quiet hospitality. They are the unacknowledged "people of the land" whose simple act of leaving bread for a traveler becomes the very sustenance a prophet needs to survive.
This reminds us that God’s provision often comes through marginalized communities whose traditions of hospitality and resilience can offer nourishment we didn't even know to ask for. It is the quiet, overlooked people and communities who often provide the very substance—physical or spiritual—that we need for our journey forward.
.png)
When Elijah arrives at Mount Horeb, he takes shelter in a cave, and God tells him to "Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by." What follows is a series of dramatic, earth-shattering events, yet the text is clear about where God is not.
- There was a great wind, so strong it split mountains and broke rocks, "but the Lord was not in the wind."
- After the wind came an earthquake, "but the Lord was not in the earthquake."
- After the earthquake came a fire, "but the Lord was not in the fire."
After all the noise and spectacle, God’s presence is finally revealed in "a sound of sheer silence" (1 Kings 19:12). This is a stunning, counter-intuitive revelation. For a prophet whose ministry just culminated in calling down fire from heaven, the revelation that God was not in the fire was a radical reorientation. In a world that prizes grand gestures and loud pronouncements, this story teaches that divine connection is often found in stillness, silence, and quiet attention.
You Are Never as Alone as You Feel
Twice in his conversation with God, Elijah voices the core of his despair: a profound sense of isolation. He feels he is the last faithful person left, and his life is in danger.
“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.” (1 Kings 19:10, 14)
His feeling of being utterly alone is palpable. Yet, God’s response directly counters this perception. After hearing Elijah's lament, God reveals a truth the prophet could not see: "Yet I will leave seven thousand in Israel, all the knees that have not bowed to Baal, and every mouth that has not kissed him" (1 Kings 19:18).
Elijah's despairing math was wrong. He felt like one, but the reality was 7,000. This is a profound promise: our feelings of absolute isolation, no matter how real they seem, do not have the final say on reality. There is often a wider community and a deeper truth we cannot see from our own limited vantage point.
The Antidote to Despair Is Often a New Mission
After the quiet revelation and the reassurance that he is not alone, God doesn't just offer Elijah comforting words. Instead, God gives him a concrete, forward-looking mission. He is told to get up and get back to work.
God instructs Elijah to:
- Return on his way to the wilderness of Damascus.
- Anoint Hazael as king over Aram.
- Anoint Jehu as king over Israel.
- Anoint Elisha as his successor.
As biblical commentator Simon J. DeVries observes, "Doubts will cease and misgivings vanish when God puts him to work." God's answer to Elijah's psychological crisis wasn't an emotional pep talk; it was a renewed sense of purpose. The text suggests that for Elijah, the very act of being put back to work—of focusing outward instead of inward—is what would heal his despair. This reveals a profound wisdom: often, the best way to overcome our own despondency is to be given a new purpose that calls us out of ourselves and back into the world.
Listening for the Silence
Elijah’s journey from the mountaintop of victory to the cave of despair and back again is a powerful story for our own times of burnout. It teaches us that despair is a human, and even holy, experience; that help often comes from the hands of the unacknowledged; that God’s voice is most clearly heard in the quiet; that we are never as alone as we feel; and that a new mission can be the very antidote to our anguish.
In our own moments of noise, chaos, and exhaustion, the story of Elijah leaves us with a vital question: Where might we find a "sound of sheer silence," and what new mission might be waiting for us there?
Posted on All Saints Sunday, November 2, 2025, at Monticello, MN.
Sources: Simon J. DeVries, 1 Kings, 2nd ed, vol. 12, Word Biblical Commentary (Dallas: Word, Inc, 2003), 235–237; Rev. Winnie Varghese, A Walk in Beauty, https://churchanew.org/blog/posts/winnie-varghese-walk-in-beauty.
