Who is God?

I love Elijah’s story in 1 Kings 19:1-18. 

So here is my man, Elijah, facilitator of the greatest show-down between Jehovah God and Baal that the people of Israel have ever witnessed.

Elijah says, “Ok, guys, we’re going to have a contest. Here are the rules. You build an altar, prepare a bull for sacrifice, and then get Baal to light the fire. If Baal lights your fire you win”

There is a murmering among the priests of Baal,  their pointy white hats bauble.

The bedraggled  prophet in his black camel-hair beggar’s garb  has them in a tight spot. If they refuse, they look like frauds.

So they build their altar in the morning, and pray through noon until the sun disappears over the horizon and night falls. They pray, they dance, they scream, they cut themselves until their blood flows, trickling down the sides of their altar.

But their god is silent, and now it’s Elijah’s turn. The drama is heightened by the darkening sky. Evening turns to night and Elijah orders the people to dig a trench around his altar. They want to know why, but no one is brave enough to ask. The trench encircles the altar.

Elijah  places one stone after another on the altar, twelve in all “Asher. Benjamin. Dan. Gad…” There is a rustling among the people, an uncomfortable shifting when they hear their tribe named. It is a reminder that they were called by Jehovah God to be His people, and they have failed.

Elijah  lays out the wood and arranges the bull sacrifice.

 He orders the people to fill a cask with water.  “Haven’t we suffered a three-year drought?” they mutter, “where are we going to get a cask of water?” But they find one.

Elijah pours the precious water on the altar. The people gasp. He asks for three more casks, and one after another pours them on the altar, drenching the wood and filling the trench.

Who can ignite this water-soaked wood?

The night is now completely black, not a star in the sky, the moon invisible. Elijah stands and waits.

The air crackles with expectation.

 “Show these people, O Lord, that you are God. Bring them back to you,” Elijah says.

And suddenly, the darkness is pierced by light.  Fire falls down burning everything that is not stone, sucking the water from the trench and forcing the people back, a human wave.

Elijah, jubilant, tucks his cloak in his belt, and full of the Power of God, runs ahead of Ahab’s chariot all the way to Jezreel.  The people follow, a victory stampede.

“The Lord, He is God,” they shout.

Elijah is filled with pride.  No one will ever doubt the True God again. He imagines a cozy little house provided for him by God-loyal Ahab. He imagines taking a wife, raising  grandchildren. He has worked long and hard for the Lord his God. At last he can rest. He has earned this reward.

Elijah falls into a deep, contented sleep only to be rudely wakened by his servant who says, “Get up! Jezebel is after you. She is going to kill you when she finds you.”

“What is this?” Elijah can’t believe it. Surely, this is not happening. But he can feel the  hoof beats pounding the earth many miles away. They are coming for him.

He leaves his servant behind, and runs for his life.

 “You know what, God?” He says, angry, defiant now, “I am done. I am done with ALL OF THIS. Just KILL ME already. Do you hear me? Kill me now. Apparantly I am no better than any who have come before me.” I’ve been good. I  deserve better than this.

Bless his heart. This is when I love Elijah the best. He got confused. He thought he was going to be rewarded for all the good things he did for God here on this earth.

Because Elijah is human, he measures rewards in earthly terms. Well, why not? God came down and acted like an earthly ruler; he won the battle through fire and the gory death of the thousand prophets, right?

Even Elijah missed the point. God had to act like a human to get the attention of the children of Israel because they were just that: children.

But Elijah ought to have known better. He had lived with God for decades. He knew how God worked. God was a heart-God.

He has to remind Elijah that all that hooplah, that was just show. That is not who God is.

So the angel taps Elijah on the shoulder. “God is going to appear to you, Elijah,” he says.

First a fire comes. But God isn’t in the fire, subtext: not to be Captain Obvious or anything, but dude, I am not a fire God! 

Next, comes an earthquake Subtext: I’m not an earth God.

Next comes a howling wind, a hurricane: I’m not a wind and rain God!

And then comes a gentle whisper, or sheer silence.

God, Jehovah God,  is in the dramatic moment that is silence.