Called by God: Hope in Deep Suffering

Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. 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.” 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.

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.” Then he lay down under the broom tree and fell asleep. Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him, “Get up and eat.” 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. 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.” He got up, and ate and drank; then he went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of God. 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?” 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.”

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; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. 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?” 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.” Then the Lord said to him, “Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus; when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael as king over Aram. Also you shall anoint Jehu son of Nimshi as king over Israel; and you shall anoint Elisha son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah as prophet in your place. Whoever escapes from the sword of Hazael, Jehu shall kill; and whoever escapes from the sword of Jehu, Elisha shall kill. 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 19:1-18 (NRSV)

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Elijah may have overestimated things. He may have overestimated his response to King Ahab and Queen Jezebel. He’d known that the Baal religion was important to them both, especially to Jezebel. So, in his zealousness for God, after he had decidedly defeated the Baal prophets in chapter 18, which just precedes today’s text, Elijah had slaughtered them. Four hundred fifty of them. With it, he had earned the wrath of the Queen, who now sought to kill him. So, now, Elijah was on the run. Yes, Elijah may have overestimated things.

In some ways, though, this may have not been Elijah’s fault. Up to this time, every experience he’d had with God had been powerful. And miraculous. Known as the “troubler of Israel,” Elijah had known the fullness of that power of God. He’d courageously challenged King Ahab, who was leading the people away from God. In the midst of drought he’d been fed miraculously by the ravens at the Wadi Cherith. He’d performed a miracle at the widow’s house in Zarephath, ensuring that he jar had of meal and jug of oil would not run dry before the end of the drought. He’d raised her son from the dead. All of these amazing feats had been possible for Elijah because of the power of God. It’s no surprise then, that when he challenged the powers that be and their religion, that Elijah could have expected God to show up. And to protect him. But, that didn’t happen. And so. Now. Elijah was on the run.

Soon he would be all alone. First in the desert. Then, sitting under a single, solitary broom tree. Where he asked God to let him die. “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.” He falls asleep. A messenger from God appears with food and drink. (There’s nothing like a little snack and a nap to make you feel better, is there?) Again, Elijah falls asleep. Then, wakes and eats to prepare for his own wilderness journey. Forty days. By the end he will be at Mount Horeb - also known as Mount Sinai. Again, hiding. In a cave.

It’s there that he finally hears God’s voice. “What are you doing here, Elijah?” the voice asks. Elijah immediately responds, giving us and God a sense of his own sadness. His vulnerability. His humanness. “I have been zealous for you,” he answers. “And now I am all alone. On the run.”

God’s response is to show up. But not in the powerful ways God has shown up before. Not in the power of the wind, breaking the mountain apart. Not in the power of the earthquake. Or in the power of a fire. 

Have you ever felt like Elijah? All alone? Lost and feeling as though God was not present for you. Perhaps it was in the grief after a loss. Perhaps it was in a moment of despair. Or anger. Or frustration. When you felt that no one understood you or had your back, especially God.

Or perhaps it is right now. In the grief and loss of these past nearly two years. Does it feel like God isn’t with us? Isn’t present for us? That all we hear, like Elijah, is silence.

But, it’s in the silence - in the thin quiet - where Elijah experiences God. In the smallest of sound. Perhaps its that way for us, too. In the smallest of responses. The quiet hug from a friend. A loving look from a spouse. A gracious touch from a nurse or caregiver. God is present in these small moments for us. As God was for Elijah.

What’s interesting to me is the end of this story. After Elijah’s final lament, God responds to him. Telling him to go back to work. Because sometimes the only way to move out of a place of grief and despair is to simply put one foot in front of another. To keep going. And trust that God will be with you on the way.

In just a moment, on this All Saints Sunday, we are going to watch a film that remembers the many saints in our lives. And that names the collective grief and loss we have been experiencing for all of the loss of these past two years. Grief and loss that often goes unnamed. The music that underlies this film features words found written after World War 2 on the call of a concentration camp in Cologne, Germany. They speak to hope in the midst of deep suffering. They speak to the hope our faith ancestors had. The hope that we have. Hope in a God who desires life and not death. Who is always working to turn death to resurrection and new life. Even in the silence. 

May we keep going. And may we trust that God will be with us. On the Way. Amen.

Preached November 7, 2021, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, and Third, Louisville.

All Saints' Sunday

Readings: 1 Kings 19:1-18; John 12:27-28

Journey to the Cross: Lost and Found

Today, in our Gospel lesson we will hear three parables that are set next to each other in the fifteenth chapter of Luke, all three talking about being lost. Just prior to this chapter, Jesus has just finished preaching about the “cost of discipleship.” Telling people that they must be willing to reject their previous social norms and status. So now, as today’s lesson begins, Jesus - not so surprisingly - is caught hanging out with all the wrong people.

The Holy Gospel, today, is from the 15th chapter, according to Luke. 

All the tax collectors and sinners were gathering around Jesus to listen to him. The Pharisees and legal experts were grumbling, saying, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

Jesus told them this parable: “Suppose someone among you had one hundred sheep and lost one of them. Wouldn’t he leave the other ninety-nine in the pasture and search for the lost one until he finds it? And when he finds it, he is thrilled and places it on his shoulders. When he arrives home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Celebrate with me because I’ve found my lost sheep.’ In the same way, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who changes both heart and life than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need to change their hearts and lives.

“Or what woman, if she owns ten silver coins and loses one of them, won’t light a lamp and sweep the house, searching her home carefully until she finds it? When she finds it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Celebrate with me because I’ve found my lost coin.’ In the same way, I tell you, joy breaks out in the presence of God’s angels over one sinner who changes both heart and life.”

Jesus said, “A certain man had two sons. The younger son said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the inheritance.’ Then the father divided his estate between them. Soon afterward, the younger son gathered everything together and took a trip to a land far away. There, he wasted his wealth through extravagant living.

“When he had used up his resources, a severe food shortage arose in that country and he began to be in need. He hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to feed pigs. He longed to eat his fill from what the pigs ate, but no one gave him anything. When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have more than enough food, but I’m starving to death! I will get up and go to my father, and say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son. Take me on as one of your hired hands.” ’ So he got up and went to his father.

“While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with compassion. His father ran to him, hugged him, and kissed him. Then his son said, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son.’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Quickly, bring out the best robe and put it on him! Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet! Fetch the fattened calf and slaughter it. We must celebrate with feasting because this son of mine was dead and has come back to life! He was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate.

“Now his older son was in the field. Coming in from the field, he approached the house and heard music and dancing. He called one of the servants and asked what was going on. The servant replied, ‘Your brother has arrived, and your father has slaughtered the fattened calf because he received his son back safe and sound.’ Then the older son was furious and didn’t want to enter in, but his father came out and begged him. He answered his father, ‘Look, I’ve served you all these years, and I never disobeyed your instruction. Yet you’ve never given me as much as a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours returned, after gobbling up your estate on prostitutes, you slaughtered the fattened calf for him.’ Then his father said, ‘Son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad because this brother of yours was dead and is alive. He was lost and is found.’” --Luke 15:1-32 (CEB)

From the outset here, it’s important to understand that the term “sinners” does not refer to the moral capacity of Jesus’ acquaintances. Rather, it is a label given to someone who lived some kind of habitual lifestyle. What this lifestyle is, is not clear. But what is clear, is that the Pharisees and legal experts knew what this lifestyle was and who these people were. In our language today, we would likely call the people Jesus was hanging out with as marginal. Meaning coming from the margins of society. The kind that our parents warned you about. You know. The acquaintances who could get you into trouble. 

When his critics start to grumble about this, Jesus tells them three parables. What’s interesting about these parables is that they all refer to being lost. And being found.

The first one is about a lost sheep. My dad was a sheep rancher. He did not have a high opinion of the intellectual capacity of these animals. In fact, he just thought they were dumb. It was not unusual for a lamb or a ewe or a ram to get caught up in a barbed wire fence, because, you know, the grass looked just a bit better on the other side. In the parable Jesus shares, one of a hundred has gone missing. The shepherd, who is concerned for the sheep, but maybe even more aware of the value of that missing animal and the financial loss he will suffer, leaves the ninety-nine behind to go search for that one, lost sheep. Not so smart. Just lost. And when the shepherd finds it, he celebrates. Because this animal is of value to him. 

The second parable is about a lost coin. I wonder if the woman is a little like me. Stashing a little cash in places and then completely forgetting where she puts it. Whatever is happened, her coin, which also is of great value to her, is missing. So, she, like the shepherd, begins to search for it. Using a light to illuminate the dark places of her home, moving out the furniture so she can search behind it, so that she might find this one lost coin. And she does. And when she does, she, again like the shepherd, has a party to celebrate. Because this coin has value.

Then, we come to the story that we often call the “Parable of the Prodigal Son.” It’s better named the “Parable of the Forgiving Father.” We know this story backwards and forwards, don’t we? The younger son, squandering a fortune he shouldn’t have even asked for. Who finds himself in a pigsty. Stinky and smelly. Likely covered in mud and slop. And realizes what a fool he has been. Whether he recognizes his mistake or recognizes his loss, he returns home. Asking for forgiveness. And he receives it in the most extravagant way. Because he, like the sheep, like the coin, is of the deepest value.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been feeling a little lost lately. We could all probably name the same things - the same lost-ness we’re feeling right now. The same things we’ve been feeling for a year now. A year. A year that, in some ways, kind of feels lost, too. And maybe our sense of lostness is accidental, like the coin. Or maybe our sense of lostness is because of a lack of intellectual capacity. Or maybe, just maybe, this feeling of being lost is because we have realized that, as much as we think we can do this life alone, we can’t. We just can’t.

But, for us. For you and I, this isn’t the end of the story. Because, like the shepherd and the woman, we have a God who relentlessly seeks us. And even if we’re like the prodigal son, finally realizing our own foolishness, we have a God who welcomes us back. Fully. With open arms and a huge celebration to boot. The same God who places such value on you and I and the Pharisees and legal experts and the ragtag bunch of sinners in Jesus’ circle - this same God values all of us so much that God sent God’s one and only Son. To restore us back into relationship with this relentlessly searching, warmly welcoming God. So that we - you and I and all people - might be lost no more.

Let the party begin. Amen.

Preached March 7, 2021, online with Grace & Glory and Third Lutheran churches, Goshen/Louisville, KY.

Third Sunday of Lent

Readings: Luke 15:1-32; Psalm 119:176