It
seems that history turns on very small hinges. A nameless bridgehead was defended
against enemy military aggressors, and that small skirmish led to victory in a larger battle. Or, as Astronaut Neil Armstrong once predicted as he first stepped on the moon, that
“one small step for man” on the moon did lead to “a giant leap for mankind.” Or, how one vote in an election has lead to the election of
public officials. Or, how a word
of praise or ridicule which is spoken to a young person has led that person toward great personal success or lasting failure. History seems not to have turned on massive
movements, but on countless seemingly unconnected events in the lives of individuals.
The Bible
is full of stories about people making seemingly insignificant daily decisions, decisions through which God has worked in bringing his purpose for his creation. Such is the case in the stories about
Elijah.
In chapter
17, we meet Elijah for the first time. He
simply is introduced as Elijah the Tishbite of Tishbee in Gilead. Nothing more is said about
him. We do know that Gilead was
one of those backwater places in the world. Yet God will use this Tishbite
from a backwater region of the world to speak truth to power in Israel.
When Elijah
had been very young in the 9th century BC, Ahab had become King of Israel.
His reign as king was summed up (I Kings 16) by saying, “Ahab did more to provoke the anger of the Lord, the God of Israel, that had all the kings of Israel before him.” Ahab was a wicked king. In an effort to secure Phoenician trade routes, his father
had married his son (Ahab) to Jezebel, the daughter of the King of Sidon. Sidon was a region north of Israel now
known as Lebanon. But
Ahab’s new bride was an evil and idolatrous worshipper of Baal the Canaanite god.
In seeking to please his new wife, Ahab embraced the worship of Baal. Baal’s priests taught that Baal
had brought the annual rains to the region.
God then
spoke to Elijah. God told him to stand before King Ahab and declare to him that
God was angry with him. Therefore,
God would not allow the rain to fall upon the region until King Ahab repented from his support of the Baal priests.
An ancient
believer in Baal and a poet of that time wrote these words:
“Let
the heavens rain oil,
the wadis
run with honey,
then I
will know the Mightiest Baal lives,
the Prince,
the Lord of the earth is alive. ”
When Elijah
stood before King Ahab and told him that God was not going to allow the annual rains to come, he was declaring that Baal was
powerless to make it rain. In addition, since King Ahab had allowed his wife
to build a temple to Baal and to promote Baal worship—Elijah was declaring that God was waging war against the king.
I am sure that King Ahab and Queen
Jezebel snickered at Elijah’s words and told him to get on his way. But after a while, the rains did not come as they had come before. The streams and the wells began to dry up, and the people
grew thirsty and restless with the king and queen.
Once the
steams began to dry up, Elijah knew that his life was now in jeopardy. Therefore, he headed out into the wilderness by the wadi Kerith—a brook that
flowed during the rainy season. That
wadi still had fresh water flowing in it. Therefore,
Elijah drank daily from the wadi Kerith, and ravens dropped fresh meat and bread to him each morning and evening. Through the cooling waters of the wadi Kerith, and gifts of the wild birds—God sustained Elijah in
the wilderness and taught him to trust in God.
Eventually
the brook dried up because of the prolonged drought, and the birds stopped bringing him food.
God then told Elijah to go to the city of Zarephath, a Phoenician trading city. Today
it is located on the coastline of Syria. When God told Elijah to go to Zarephath,
100 miles away, I am sure that Elijah was taken aback. Zarephath was only 8 miles from Jezebel’s hometown, in Gentile country, and a center of Baal worship! Nevertheless, Elijah obeyed God and he
traveled across the dry wilderness to Zarephath.
By the
time he reached Zarephath, Elijah was in serious physical trauma. He was dehydrated and barely able to stand. In an act of desperation he begged for water from the first person he encountered. As the nameless woman was giving him water to drink, Elijah
risked even more in asking for simply, “a morsel of bread.”
Her reply
to his request revealed that she too was desperate. Because of the drought, she had not been able to get enough food to feed herself and her son. At her home there was barely enough food for one modest meal,
prior to her son and her starving to death. Every
word that she spoke uttered of her despair and resignation to the inevitable—“I
have nothing…a handful of meal…a little oil…so (that my son and I) may eat and die.” Nevertheless, Elijah asked that she provide for his needs
first, and then use the little rest for her and her son. On first impressions,
his request seems selfish. But what
he was asking for was for the essential nourishment that he might have the strength and energy to provide for her and her
son.
Once again,
history turned on a small hinge. This
widow of Zarephath had the power to make a difference between life and death. There the prophet stood before her—the prophet who bravely had stood before the
king—yet now the prophet who staggered before her, utterly dependent on her generosity.
She chose to be of help, and the oil and the meal lasted, and they survived.
That is,
until the widow’s only son died. The
writer said that there was “no breath in him.” Scholars disagree on whether the boy already was dead, or dying.
But at the very least we can say that he was near death. The widow, who had survived because of God’s provision of oil and meal, now was driven into the deepest
despair. Her son was not only her
heir—her son was her future. Her
son would be there to care for her when she was too old to care for herself. Nothing
it seemed could reverse the death that had claimed her son’s life.
Guilt welled
up from the past of this terrified women. Elijah
suddenly found himself the object of her anger and resentment. She felt that because of the prophet’s presence in her house, that his presence had drawn God’s
attention to her and her past sins. God
therefore was taking the life of her son because of her past sins.
History
once again turned on small hinges. Elijah
would hear nothing of this. He chose
to respond to the needs of this widow and her son. He took the boy up to his own room in the house. He enveloped the child with his own body, calling on God to use his life as a conduit to give life to the
boy. Elijah shouted, he cried, and
he pleaded with God to give the boy back his life.
God heard
Elijah’s pleading and he restored the boy’s life. Elijah then took the boy to his mother. At that moment, history took a mighty leap—the widow recognized that the God of Elijah was the most
powerful God in a foreign land. The
widow recognized that God’s power was greater than all the other powers that threaten life. The widow became the first convert in Zarephath.
Throughout
this story, history has turned on small hinges. God’s
power was exercised through people with their backs up against the wall, through the birds of the air, through small gestures,
through meager resources, through feeble words, through human obedience, and
through the willingness to respond to those in need. God’s power even was exercised in enabling Elijah to
be able to argue with God! By God’s
power, God’s work was done.
God’s
work still is being done today through people with their backs up against the wall, through gestures of caring, through the
wise use of meager resources, through feeble words, through human obedience, and through those who seek to make a positive
difference in the lives of others. We
ourselves stand as testimonies to God’s power—for God has acted through others in our own lives, in bringing us
to where we are today. None of us
should ever have the false illusion that we have pulled ourselves up by our own bootstraps—rather we have been lifted
up by countless others in our lives. And
we, too, can choose to make a difference in the lives of others.
