[This sermon began with a monologue. It presumed that Elijah needed to fill Elisha in on what had gone before. With dramatic license, it recounts what is in the Bible’s account, even though the Bible doesn’t specify that Elijah actually filled Elisha in or needed to fill Elisha in on Elijah’s ministry as a prophet. If you have no patience with monologues, feel free to skip to the section called Dealing With Depression.]
Elisha! Elishah ben-Shaphat! I bring a word from the Lord. I know you’re busy. Twelve yoke of oxen—pretty impressive! God never gave me so much. Well, don’t get me wrong. God gave me a lot. It’s just that wealth wasn’t part of it. I suppose being God’s messenger, flying in the face of earthly authority to deliver a word of divine authority. That’s a blessing of its own. You think so? I’m glad you think so.
(Removing his mantle) I have a blessing for you. You might not think it’s a blessing, but (handing over his mantle) I’m not the one who flies in the face of earthly authority anymore. I’m not the one with divine authority. Shalom! God bless you!
(Turning to walk away, then turning back) Kiss your father? Give shalom to your family? Go ahead. Go back. I have no authority. Stay with your business. I’ve already asked too much of you. Being a prophet, it’s not always what it seems. Flying in the face of authority? You’re never thanked, even when you’re right.
Take our own king—bringing that ambitious little siren from Phoenicia and placing her on the throne. Created a whole new fad in Israel. Everyone had to try out Tyrean Baal. We were wealthier than we had ever been. We had important international alliances. No one could be bothered with God’s laws. They were fine for the desert, but now we were cosmopolitan Israel.
I told him, “As sure as God who caused to be, continues to be, and will always be is alive, there will be no rain until God gives me the word.” I think God just wanted him and everyone else to know that Baal doesn’t bring the rain, no matter how excited with blood lust and sexual lust they made him. And I didn’t even have to suffer with Israel. God sent me to the Wadi Cherith and fed me in a way I’d never have expected.
The ravens are carrion-eaters. You wouldn’t expect God to feed a kosher prophet with a non-kosher bird, would you? Be ready, Elisha. God has a way of surprising you. What a life! Drinking from the spring and eating what the birds brought you morning and evening. Only then, even the wadi dried up. A drought doesn’t just affect the fields, you know.
Imagine that! I’m exactly where God told me to be and God lets my only source of water dry up. I thought it was going to be the end for me, but God told me to go to Zarephath and see a certain widow. I went. After all, how much worse could it be to visit a Phoenician widow than to be fed by carrion-eating birds? For a while, I thought it was definitely going to be worse.
I approached the widow with a request, a simple meal of some water and a little bit of pita. She told me she only had enough oil to make a piece of pita bread for her and one for her son before they died. At first, I wanted to ask God why he sent me to such a hopeless situation. Then, I remembered that there was always hope with God. I assured the woman that if she brought me a little piece of pita, God who caused all, keeps all together, and has a plan for all would see that she wouldn’t run out of oil until the drought was over. She believed me and God came through.
I’m used to God coming through. You should get used to it, too. But don’t expect it to happen on your schedule. And don’t expect it to always happen conveniently in your favor. Sometimes, I think God allows prophets, maybe any of God’s people, to experience inconvenient, even painful experiences so we don’t take God for granted. For me, I entered that lady’s house as a hero, saving my hostess’s and son’s life. But one day, that son died. I was a pariah, not a hero.
I cried out to God and God directed me to stretch myself over the young man three times. And when I finished, God put the spirit of life back into her son. Then, the woman said that she had treated me as a messenger of God before, but now she really knew that I was a servant of God. Of course, now that I was comfortable, it was time to be on the move again.
After three years of drought, God decided it was time to make a move and I was selected to announce it. I started journeying back to Samaria and who should I encounter on a foraging and reconnaissance expedition but my old pal, Obadiah. His very name meant “servant of God” and he had been busy hiding those faithful to Yahweh while I had been off in hiding. I commanded him to take a message to Ahab, tell him I was ready to confront him. He tried to beg off. He said Ahab would assume that he’d been hiding me and would have his neck for treason. I told him God would take care of him and sent him on his way.
So, it was time to face Ahab. Did you know our lovely king had the gall to accuse me of causing the drought? He acted like I had enjoyed pronouncing judgment on Israel. He acted like I had no concern, no compassion, for the people who starved to death and paid the price for the sin he’d conceived on his bed of ambition, his altar of adultery. I pointed my finger at him and told him that he was the cause, his was the sin that brought this punishment upon everyone. It seems like no one realizes how sin affects everyone around us.
It was time for a showdown, a time for people to figure out what side they were on. “How long will you stand at the fork in the road? How long does it take to make up your minds? If Baal is the real god, serve him. But if God who caused, God who is, and God who will be is God, serve the real God.” They didn’t like it, of course. The crowds rarely do. That is, they didn’t like it until I suggested a contest, a divine “smackdown” where the mightiest power would win.
I ordered two altars to be built on Mt. Carmel. The rules were simple. The priests of Baal were not to put any of their fancy fire starting tools under their altar and would be given the first opportunity to call upon their god. If, after a sufficient amount of time, Baal didn’t answer their prayers with fire from heaven to consume the offering, I would pray. The first power to respond with fire from heaven was truly God. At God’s insistence, I gambled with my life. I was so certain of God’s intent.
The day started as I expected. You’ve probably heard by now. When they couldn’t get Baal excited enough to bring lightning and rain in the usual ways, they began to cut themselves and cry out in order to incite him with blood lust. By now, I was so disgusted, I began to make comments. “Are you sure Baal can hear you? Maybe he’s asleep? Maybe you just caught him at a bad time? Maybe he’s on a journey or just taking care of business in the bushes?” They weren’t happy. They would have killed me then and there if they could have, but they didn’t dare. Baal had failed.
I decided to raise the ante. We dug a trench around the altar I built for God. I ordered my servant to fill four pitchers with water—not once, but twice, even three times they threw the water on the altar until even the trench was full. Then, I prayed. I didn’t pray for me. I prayed that Israel could see who the real God is. I prayed that God who caused, keeps, and provides for everything would show the reality of Presence and Power that could transform Israel back into the servant people they were intended to be.
God came through. Of course, it seems natural to assume so now, but it wasn’t easy when I stood before the altar with part of the crowd wishing I would fail so they could have my neck and the rest of the crowd hoping for success so they could brag to their grandchildren that they were there when it happened.
God sent lightning from heaven to consume the sacrifice, the wood, the stones, and even to evaporate all of the water in the trench. The miracle was done, but God wasn’t finished. I proclaimed our Eternal God to be the victor and had those false priests of Baal seized. I escorted the crowd down to the Wadi Kishon and oversaw their execution.
Then, with Israel purged of her sin, I waited for God’s blessing. I sent my servant to the top of the mountain to watch for clouds while I sent King Ahab home to beat the rain. We waited, but there were no clouds in the sky. We waited until finally a puny little cloud showed itself. Would God truly bring the rain from such an unlikely source? As a prophet, you might as well learn that God often brings miracles from unlikely sources—including you and me.
The rain came. The long-awaited showers of blessing were here. Wouldn’t you have thought that Israel would have repented? Wouldn’t you have thought the entire nation would have acted in gratitude? Yet, the queen was angry. Jezebel insisted that she would slay me as I had executed her palace priests. I couldn’t believe it. After all God had done for Israel, no one stood with me. God had left me exposed to die the same death as the false priests.
I ran away. Some will call me a coward. Truly, I was disgusted. My life was a sham, my ministry a fraud if it made no more difference than this. I ran into the desert until I fell under a juniper bush in exhaustion. I felt as if it were best that I would die there. I felt that I was ready. I felt there was no more use in trying to share God with the people. My life had no more meaning.
I was awakened by a messenger from God. I knew the messenger came from the heavens. He had an other-worldly look about him, something as I imagined God Himself would have were God become human. I begged for death. I was given food and allowed to rest. He awakened me again and I still had no desire to live in a world where my ministry was rejected. But I obeyed the command to eat and the command to journey to God’s holy mountain of Horeb/Sinai.
Once there, I experienced God quite differently than I expected. I expected to camp out on the hill, possibly have a word from God in a vision. Instead, God demanded to know why I was there. I felt brave. I spoke boldly. “I’m here because I’ve done everything possible on behalf of my God. My faithfulness has been rewarded by a death threat and all because I stood up against the Israelites when they broke Your covenant, destroyed Your altars, and killed Your prophets.” And my LORD told me to stand outside on the mountain and encounter God.
I wondered if it was going to be like Moses. Would my face glow when the audience with God was over? Would people run away from me as I came down from this mountain? Would God appear with a pillar of fire or cloud? What was God’s message going to be like?
And a great wind, strong enough to uproot trees, to dislodge rocks, and to cause landslides rushed across the face of the mountain. It was magnificent. But I didn’t sense that this was God.
Next, just as the rocks had settled down, I felt a low rumble that almost caused me to lose my footing. The entire mountain shook as though it was shifting on the back of a donkey. Rocks tumbled around me and more trees fell below. Yet, somehow I sensed that this wasn’t really God’s Presence.
So, I kept watching. God has promised some revelation to me but the manifestations of nature that would have been so impressive to the Baal worshipper wasn’t speaking to me. Speaking of Baal, those fools would have loved the next demonstration. Lightning came from the heavens and ignited a fire in the midst of some trees. Lightning, fire, and thick smoke all mixed together—a fitting chariot for the gods. But it wasn’t where God was to be found.
But after the fire, I sensed a sound of crushed silence. In a delicate sense of vulnerability, I knew it was God. I was no longer ready to be Moses. I no longer wanted to see even the backside of God. I removed my outer cloak and wrapped it around my face. I knew God was going to speak and I didn’t want to die from merely being in God’s Presence.
God asked me again why I was there. Again I tried to convince God that I was a champion standing against the rebels who had broken the covenant, destroyed the altars, and executed the prophets. Again, I emphasized the fact that I had only received a death sentence for standing up for God.
But God wasn’t finished with me yet. God sent me to anoint a foreign king, reminding me that God cares about and is involved with more than Israel. And God sent me to give my outer cloak to my successor—to you Elisha ben-Shaphat. So, here we are. You can kiss your father good-bye. You can make arrangements for your family, your animals, your business, whatever… This isn’t something I’ve asked of you. Like I said, you have a chance to be blessed by God. Does it compare with the blessings you’ve already received? Probably not, but do you dare say no to God?
Dealing with Depression
Today, I want to talk about depression. It’s something that happens to all of us. People like me have a tendency to have those mountain top experiences where it seems like everything is clearer, more beautiful, and more certain than ever before, followed by those deep valleys of gloom where everything is dreary, more complicated, and more uncertain than ever before. And one reason I have that problem is because I have a terrible tendency to get so excited on the mountain top that I get to running down the mountain ahead of God. And running ahead of God is presumption, presumption isn’t faith, and whatever isn’t faith is sin. So, it’s no wonder I end up sitting in the dark thinking about what I don’t have and what I can’t do instead of watching for the next word from God.
But I don’t feel all alone in my experience when I look at Elijah in I Kings 19. In the last verse of I Kings 18, the victorious Elijah was so pumped up by the touch of God that he was able to run faster than Ahab’s chariot (bogged down slightly by the rain, I’m sure) all the way to Jezreel. He was functioning at a super-high level, well above the ordinary. But what a difference a couple of verses make. In verse 1 of Chapter 19, Queen Jezebel hears what happened to her pet priests. In verse 2, she takes actions and swears she will take vengeance upon Elijah.
And in verse 3, Elijah who confronted the king who wanted to kill him, Elijah who had stood alone against several priests of Baal, and Elijah who had called God’s fire from the heavens became frightened and ran away. What was he thinking?
• Hadn’t God fed him miraculously during the drought he had prophesied? (I Kings 17:2-6)
• Hadn’t God miraculously “conserved” the widow’s olive oil? (I Kings 17:13-16)
• Hadn’t God raised the widow’s son from the dead? (I Kings 17:17-24)
• Hadn’t God sent fire from heaven to consume the sacrifice on Carmel? (I Kings 18:35-40)
• Hadn’t God sent the rain? (I Kings 18:45)
How could Elijah possibly have seen the things he had seen and experienced the things he had experienced and not have any confidence in God when he faced his current situation? All I can say is that this is easy for us to say. Think of how many times we have been blessed with an important insight, a fabulous job opportunity, a gift of food or money at just the right time, answered prayer when we or someone we cared about was ill, or anything else that God gave us.
Then, when our faith was on the line, we panicked. We “ran away.” We may not have literally changed location, but we “ran away” by turning down a ministry opportunity, by failing to witness when someone needed to hear about the Lord, or by turning our back on God’s church, God’s people, or God’s will. When we panic and run away, we’re all Elijahs who have failed to remember and remind ourselves of God’s blessings, God’s gifts, and God’s Presence. And when we get away from God, we open ourselves up to the kind of despair that Elijah demonstrates in verse 4 when he asks to die.
So, one way for us to reduce the power or potential of depression is to remember and recite to ourselves and/or others the things God has done for us in the past. When we remember what God did for our predecessors in the Bible and we remember what God has already done for us in the past, we have courage for the present and hope for the future.
But let’s back up for a moment. We’re being pretty hard on Elijah. We’ve questioned how he could possibly have lost confidence in God when God had done so many wonderful things for him. But let’s not forget that there is one way of looking at Elijah’s life that isn’t quite so glowing. Was there any legitimacy at all to Elijah’s depression?
• Possibly, because the brook dried up? (I Kings 17:7)
• Possibly, because the widow’s son died in the first place? (I Kings 17:17-18a)
• Possibly, because he had to confront King Ahab who wanted to kill him? (I Kings 18:14-19)
• Possibly, because Queen Jezebel threatened to kill him? (I Kings 19:2)
I mean, many of us have done exactly what we thought God told us to do and discovered that we had a monetary shortfall. We went somewhere to preach expecting a love offering to pay for the gas and it didn’t begin to cover it. We accepted a small church expecting it to grow enough to be able to pay us and it didn’t. We started a Bible Study class expecting God to bless it and nobody came. We knocked on dozens, maybe hundreds of doors, inviting people to a special event (maybe a concert, a revival service, or a Bible School) and nobody came. The brook dried up.
Sometimes, we feel like we have the reverse Midas touch. We thought we were bringing the solid gold of God’s goodness to those around us and it seems like everything we touch turns to a nasty, sticky mud. We feel like we bring a black cloud everywhere we go and that people dread having us around. We’ve experienced the death of the widow’s son. The truth is, those deaths of our plans, our hopes, and our goals as well as those disappointments and disasters faced by those close to us are opportunities for resurrections. Without the young man’s death, Elijah wouldn’t have seen God’s victory over death. And without our defeats, disasters, and disappointments, we might not learn to depend totally upon God, as well. But that doesn’t mean it feels good to be perceived as the “black cat” in the midst of those we care about.
And sometimes, we feel like everyone is out to get us, that everyone is stabbing us in the back—even when we’ve done what God told us to do. Sometimes, we not only should be considered “innocent” of what people accuse us of doing or being at school or in the office, but we should be considered “heroes.” We saved the day at work. We improved things at home. But we end up being the scapegoat for everything that goes wrong. We just want to throw up our hands and say, “What’s the use?”
Aren’t those the kinds of feelings that Elijah must have been feeling? Notice that even though he wanted to die, he didn’t presume to cause it himself. It’s okay to express the futility you’re experiencing in life, but if we actually give up completely, we’re saying that God CAN’T!
So, Elijah tries to deal with his depression much like you and I try to deal with ours. In verse 3, Elijah runs away. Do you realize how many people resign their jobs, drop out of school, change churches, or do anything they possibly can to change their circumstances, simply because they are discouraged? I once told my Dad that I had a problem church member who had followed me to every pastorate and had caused trouble for me in every church where I had tried to minister. Of course, that problem church member is ME. And when we try to run away by changing our circumstances before we’ve let God change ourselves, we’re just running away.
Elijah also tries to deal with depression by isolating himself. Notice in verse 3 that he leaves his servant behind. When I’m depressed, I want to be by myself. Just leave me alone! For a while, that works and helps me get a little perspective on my situation, but eventually, I need people. Eventually, we need each other to get out of the hole we dig with our emotions.
And Elijah also deals with his depression by trying to sleep his life away. Verse 5 has him sleeping his life away when a messenger from God tells him to get up and eat. Now, I believe in angels, but I keep using the root of the word (messenger) to make a point. When God intervenes in our depression, God could use anyone to be the messenger that tells us to “Get up, get over it, and eat.”
The truth is we’re never going to get over the low spots until we allow God to point us toward the high spots. After the messenger intervenes twice, Elijah finally has the vision to head for Mount Horeb, Mount Sinai, and to stand where Moses stood (figuratively speaking, but possibly even literally speaking). From the valley, God pointed him toward the mountain and God can do the same with us if we allow God to do so.
And when he gets there, he discovers something important. He finds out that there doesn’t have to be a big multimedia extravaganza in order to encounter God. It isn’t the show that convicts Elijah of his short-sightedness, his spiritual myopia and self-absorption. It is the quiet sound of silence, the still small voice, the gentle awareness of an awesome God that convicts him.
So, what does this mean to you and me? What should we do when we feel depressed?
• Obey God’s messengers (for us in the Bible) (I Kings 19:5, 7)
• Go where God tells us (church and more) (I Kings 19:7)
• Be honest to God about our feelings (I Kings 19:10)
• Be open to God’s revelation (not always “light shows”) (I Kings 19:11-12)
• Hear what God has to say (confirmed in the Bible) (I Kings 19:13-18)
Elijah left the Presence of God and made a mark on the international scene by anointing a foreign king and training Elisha as his successor. Ironically, the one who wished for death didn’t have to die. And if we’ll follow his example, those times when we feel it’s no use will also pass so that we can accomplish God’s will beyond our expectations. Are you willing to trust God, even in depression?
