For a resistance
fighter, a spectacular victory becomes the moment of great danger. Once the convoy or the oil field or the
ammunition dump is exploded, those responsible are targeted men.
So it was
for Elijah. At Mount Carmel, he humiliated
the apparently all-conquering Taliban-like prophets of Baal in fire brought down
from heaven and then he slaughtered them.
It ignited Queen Jezebel, no less, who swore his destruction - and he
fled for his life.
Being hunted
down and under the stress of trauma, he went a hundred miles south to the edge
of the Negev, then a further day’s journey into the desert itself. There he collapsed under the shelter of a
rare tree, prayed for death, and, mercifully, fell asleep.
At which
point (the exquisite five verses from 1 Kings 19.3-7 were read on a recent
Sunday) God’s messenger-angels touched him.
They did so twice. They provided warm
bread and cold water.
One might have
hoped they would also provide an answer to his final despairing prayers – you are
safe, the likes of the prophets of Baal and Jezebel will be defeated.
But instead their message to the man at the extremity of coping seemed simply to be – go further into the wilderness.
But instead their message to the man at the extremity of coping seemed simply to be – go further into the wilderness.
And there,
alongside those whose bereavement or depression or pain or mental illness or
approaching death seems unremitting and unbearable, I was glad to stop reading.
To stop reading with the second
angel-touch and the words ‘take the sustenance here however tiny, else the journey will
be too much for you’.
If we read on we find Elijah has indeed traversed the Negev and Sinai deserts for forty days, come to a new experience of
God and a new understanding of what he should do. But that isn’t yet, and we didn’t read
that far.
We only read
the verses in which God’s messenger-angels found him in wilderness, touched him,
and told him that he needed to go deeper
into the desert, a journey which would be almost too much for him.
So, I
thought of Paul asking God three times to take away whatever the thorn in the
flesh and the message of Satan which beset him might be, and get only the
answer ‘my grace is sufficient for you’ (2 Corinthians 12.9).
And I
thought of the viaticum - literally, the
things which pertains to the ‘via’ (the ‘way’).
The word comes from the necessary supplies granted to a Roman ambassador
as he set out. It is used in the Catholic
church particularly of Communion give to the dying. Way-bread.
Food for the journey.
It seems
vastly insensitive and crass to say to those facing what is unendurable that
God’s message might be stick with this, go deeper into it, and you will see
that it can bring you to fresh insight into God and enhanced
self-understanding.
But always
simply to pray instead that the all-powerful God will be heal, defeat evil and
take it all away seems to miss what the messenger-angels were saying to Elijah.
It is something
just hinted in my own comfortable and untraumatic experiences - from an
occasional willingness to stay with difficult questions rather than settle for
the first obvious or more comforting answers through to learning tiny things about
myself through hardly challenging experiences of fasting. So it is something I just might more fully
recognise if and when debilitation comes or I am granted a final illness.
And Jesus’ own ministry began actually being led by the Spirit into the wilderness for forty days, and ended with going deeper into suffering rather than magicking it away. That can't be a coincidence.
And Jesus’ own ministry began actually being led by the Spirit into the wilderness for forty days, and ended with going deeper into suffering rather than magicking it away. That can't be a coincidence.
The poor
pictures are young Palestinian dabka dancers from Bethelehem in Halifax a few
days ago.
Updated 25th August. Another clergyman's Blog has a new post partly about his own depression and then adds the following, with the highly relevant strap line 'with, through and beyond': A small group in my benefice have been working on a liturgy we are going to be offering for the first time in October. The aim is to bring sufferers together in gentle solidarity in the hope that we learn, together, to live ‘with, through, and beyond’ depression and anxiety.
Updated 25th August. Another clergyman's Blog has a new post partly about his own depression and then adds the following, with the highly relevant strap line 'with, through and beyond': A small group in my benefice have been working on a liturgy we are going to be offering for the first time in October. The aim is to bring sufferers together in gentle solidarity in the hope that we learn, together, to live ‘with, through, and beyond’ depression and anxiety.