19th Sunday of Ordinary Time
Aug. 9, 2015
1 Kgs 19: 4-8
Ursulines, Willow Dr.
“Elijah went a day’s journey into the desert…” (1
Kgs 19: 4).
Superficially, we could observe that Elijah
prepared very poorly for his hike into the wilderness. If you do that today—and it happens regularly
in the White Mountains and other wilderness areas—and search and rescue has to
go find you, you’ll probably get a big, fat bill from the local or federal
government. But there’s no record of the
angel’s having left an invoice with Elijah’s bread and water.
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| Elijah calling down the Lord's fire on Mt. Carmel (1 Kings 18) |
More seriously, Elijah has fled in haste from
Queen Jezebel, whose 400 prophets of Baal he’s just slain on Mt. Carmel (ch.
18). As he says after reaching Mt.
Horeb, he’s been “most zealous for the Lord” (19:10). He’s the prototypical fanatic of an OT
prophet, but his zeal has won him the vengeful enmity of the rulers of Israel.
When we take a stand for the Lord, when we’re
truly committed to him—even without our trying to slay the Lord’s perceived
enemies—we’ll make enemies of our own and run into obstacles. So we must expect opposition when we try to
do good, practice virtue, live out our commitment to serve the Lord
wholeheartedly. Jesus ben Sirach
cautions us, “When you come to serve the Lord, prepare yourself for
trials. Be sincere of heart and
steadfast, undisturbed in time of adversity” (Sir 2:1-2). Satan never rests in his opposition to
goodness, and unfortunately he finds many allies.
Elijah “prayed for death: … O Lord, take my
life” (19:4). Even prophets and saints
can get discouraged. So we shouldn’t be
surprised that sometimes we do too, whether our discouragement arises from the
aforementioned obstacles and opposition, from our own physical or emotional or
moral weaknesses, or from our inability to see clearly just what God wants of
us. Occasional discouragement is part of
being human.
What’s important when Elijah is in this state of
dejection—we could almost say of despair—is that he opens his heart to
God. We know how he feels because he
voices his prayer. I think Elijah has
been on intimate terms with the Lord for a long time; I think his story in 1
Kings testifies to that. When we’re close
to God, we can tell him everything that’s in our hearts: our joys and sorrows, our fears and hopes,
our anger and praise, our sins and virtues.
We ought never to be afraid to speak our minds to the One who made us,
who loves us, who saves us—and who already knows our thoughts and feelings
anyway—but who delights, according to St. Augustine (somewhere in the patristic
readings of the Breviary) to hear his children speak those thoughts and
feelings. Like Samuel’s mother Hannah (1
Sam 1:9-18), Queen Esther (4 C:12-30), Susanna (Dan 13:42-43), Jeremiah
(passim), and the Psalmist, we can pour out to God our woes, fears,
desperation, frustration. Jesus himself
does that in Gethsemane (Matt 26:36-44 ||).
And of course besides complaining or crying to God, we can also praise
and thank him for our blessings.
The angel who came to Elijah provided him with
food and drink to sustain him on his journey to Horeb, which is another name
for Sinai. “Strengthened by that food,
he walked 40 days and 40 nites to the mountain of God” (19:8). In the context of today’s liturgy, that food
and drink are supposed to remind us of the Eucharist. The Eucharist is truly our sustenance as we
journey toward God’s holy mountain—on a long and arduous trek beset with
temptations and dangers, a trek that’s wearisome at times, frightsome at
times. The Eucharist supplies us with
both spiritual strength and courage to get up and continue steadfast on our
way.
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