Work To Do
1 Kings 19: 1-19
On my last day of work as Director of Quality Management at Lutheran General Hospital, I dressed up like a clown. I wore an orange wig, large blue shoes, a red nose, and a clown suit. When I stopped for gas on the way to work, a child leaned out the window of a car passing by, pointed at me, and exclaimed to his mother, “Mom, it’s a clown!” I dressed like a clown that day because it was the only way I could manage going to work on my last day. I went from floor to floor greeting my nursing friends, saying goodbye for the last time. Then I stopped by the President’s office. He motioned me in. “I hope you don’t take this personally, but quality just isn’t that important anymore.” Then I walked out the door, glad I chose to be a clown on my last day.
Transitions aren’t easy. Elijah was amid a major transition in our story for today. Listen to his story and how God cared for him in 1 Kings 19. (Scripture is read)
As I look back on that last day at the hospital, I realize now that leaving there was the beginning of a new life. But if you would have asked me what I thought at the time, I would have probably told you it was the end of my career. When I experience the world crashing in on me, I sometimes jump to dramatic conclusions.
So did Elijah. Elijah is a bona fide hero of faith. He was faithful, confident and authoritative. Able to bring about miracles through prayer, even raising the dead and calling fire down from heaven. He faced off 450 prophets of the god Baal to determine which deity is the true God of Israel. He then slayed all of Baal’s prophets. When Jezebel heard her prophets were all slain, she set out to kill Elijah.
Elijah ran for his life. He was on the road for 40 days and 40 nights before he finally took shelter in a cave. Totally worn out. Sleeping a lot. Complaining a lot. Suicidal. He had to be told to eat. His view of reality was distorted. He was quick to blame others for the situation in which he has found himself. Had he walked into a mental health clinic; he would have been diagnosed with depression.
Despite his magnificent victory on Mt. Carmel, there was no final victory for Elijah or his God. The oppressive system endured; it didn’t implode. Despite his valiant effort, he was now running for his life. It had all come to nothing.
But God wasn’t done with him yet. God beckoned Elijah to the opening of the cave so he could see God as God passed by. Elijah might have been expecting a showing like the one experienced by Moses: wind, fire, and earthquake. Indeed, Elijah did see a mighty wind, fire and an earthquake. But God was not in the mighty wind. God was not in the storm. God was not in the earthquake.
What next? Only the sound of sheer silence. So still. So small. Elijah knew. He wrapped his mantle around his face before going out because he was afraid to see God. But God simply asked him what he was doing there. Then Elijah launched into his litany. He was no better than his ancestors. He was the only one left who was faithful. He was ready to die.
I remember that before leaving the hospital, a friend told me that everyone can be replaced. No one is so spectacularly special that the place couldn’t function without her. I shook that comment off. But today, I know it is true. I really believed in those days that I couldn’t be replaced. I really believed that I could be greater than the ancestors of persons who had come before me. I really believed I stood alone. I was a lot like Elijah.
None of that was true, for Elijah or for me. And despite my grandiosity in thinking I was more special than anyone else, I didn’t get a divine rebuke. Neither did Elijah. Instead, God set him straight on a few things. There were still several thousand faithful Israelites that had not bowed down to the pagan gods. He never was alone. And…there was going to be a future for him beyond the cave. A humbler future, but an important future.
It wouldn’t be a future where Elijah would continue his victorious performances and put an end to Jezebel. That job would fall to somebody else. His future would be more like an eerie calm. And his job would be to pass the mantle…to enact the relatively unspectacular act of prophetic succession. Elijah still had work to do. His work was to recognize that he wasn’t the only one who would secure Israel’s future and God’s reputation. He needed to anoint another prophet and another king.
After leaving the hospital, I tried my hand at climbing more spectacular career heights by becoming a consultant. But God was not in the windy place of consulting. Then I tried my hand at self-sufficient self-employment. But God wasn’t in that stormy place, either. God was in a quiet, but insistent voice that led me to the humble work of being a pastor.
And now, God is coming to me in the even-more-humble work of being retired and giving the rest of my life away to others in some fashion yet-to-be-determined. Writing a book with a beloved teacher and friend. Giving my hours to speaking for others, caring for those everyone else is too busy to notice. Learning to notice the stillness and sink deep into God’s presence there.
God’s words to Elijah…and to me…were, “You are not alone. I care for you. There is still work for you to do. Now get back to it. Not spectacular words, but words that fit. I pass those words on to you, because they might fit for you, too.
You are not alone. Others will care for you, as I have. There is still work to do. Now get back to it.