Today I’ve been reflecting on a chapter from the Hebrew Bible / Old Testament: 1 Kings 19.

Disclaimer: Surely, reflecting on any Bible chapter is, to some extent, a fool’s errand. Can I really say anything that has not already been said during the past 2,500+ years of the history of 1 Kings? So, all I’m doing is speaking about my own experiences as reflected in this book - but I reckon that’s a big part of the reason why anybody finds value in religious texts.

In the previous chapters, our prophet Elijah has just called down fire from heaven to kill a bunch of prophets of the rival god Baal. Political mass murder aside, a stunning public victory for Elijah and the god of Israel.

1 Kings 19 begins with Elijah receiving a death threat from Jezebel, wife of the king of Israel and a woman who brought Baal worship into Israel.

Then Elijah has simply had enough: “he got up and fled for his life […] went a day’s journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die, ‘It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.’ Then he lay down under the broom tree and fell asleep.” (1 Kings 19:3-5 NRSVUE)

Later in the chapter, Elijah complains to God: “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts, for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.” (1 Kings 19:10 NRSVUE)

I find this so touching and raw:

  • You can taste Elijah’s exhaustion. The weariness down to his very bones. Our boy is done, totally spent. In fact, Elijah makes that exact same complaint — “the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword” — twice in this chapter, on two separate occasions. You can tell that this is something that really bothers him, something that he is ruminating on and grappling with.
  • The episode itself was triggered by a death threat from a very powerful political opponent. As a trans woman living in the 2020s — and one working to help animals against the forces of indifferent governments and hostile industry — there’s a lot that reasonates here.
  • But Elijah is also just sick of society, baffled and sickened by the people around him, “confused and frightened and even sickened by human behaviour” in the words of J. D. Salinger (see my previous blog article). Or as expressed by Christopher J. H. Wright: “it’s not just a world that baffles our understanding; it’s also a world we can’t bear to look at for very long”. Again, you don’t have to look very far to see how this resonates with modern readers.

I also think it’s very powerful to observe how Elijah responds. Elijah goes to bed and sleeps. He eats bread and drinks water; he nourishes his body. He lets himself sleep some more. He immerses himself in the wilderness, in nature. He is honest to God about how he is feeling. He doesn’t hide his exhaustion or his weariness. He doesn’t pretend that he’s happy when he’s deeply upset and wounded. Like Job (according to one JPS translation), Elijah did not “suppress [his] words against the Holy One”.

I find the fact that he eats bread very important. The bread appears miraculously, brought by an angel while Elijah sleeps: “Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him, ‘Get up and eat.’ He looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water.” (1 Kings 19:5-6 NRSVUE)

  • Bread! No garden salad, no protein shake, no consideration of how many calories Elijah can afford to consume after all that walking (see my previous blog article). Just plain, nourishing bread: “Get up and eat, or the journey will be too much for you.” (1 Kings 19:7 NRSVUE)
  • I imagine I’m not alone among Christian readers in seeing powerful resonance with the symbolism of communion.

Then God speaks to Elijah: “Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind, and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake, and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire, and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then there came a voice to him that said, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’” (1 Kings 19:11-13 NRSVUE)

I find it meaningful that God doesn’t speak from the noise; He speaks from the silence. Other translations use the phrase “gentle whisper”. God understands that Elijah, exhibiting all the symptoms we have come to associate with depression and burnout, needs the gentle voice of friend, not the harsh voice of a taskmaster.

I also find it meaningful that God waits for Elijah to make the same complaint twice, verbatim. Some scholars see this as a mistake, an editor merging multiple texts into the single text that has come down to us, and including two passages explaining the same single event. But what if, as other scholars argue, this was a deliberate choice? God waits for Elijah to reflect, to ruminate, to grapple with his sadness. Then God gives a substantive response.

And what does God say? God says to Elijah: “[…] you shall anoint Elisha son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah as prophet in your place.” (1 Kings 19:16 NRSVUE)

  • In other words — okay, I hear you, if you’re truly spent, it’s okay to resign. It’s ok to rest, to give up, to move onto your next chapter in life, to find your next calling. There is someone ready to replace you. The work will still get done.
  • Once you carry out your duty to the best of your ability, you can put down your burden, and trust that somebody else will pick it up (see my recent blog article on how community can help us overcome our individual limitations).
  • What does this say about God’s plan? Elijah was the prophet, until it became too much for him. Then God responded by replacing Elijah with Elisha. C. Baxter Kruger tells a story, which I’ve been thinking about a lot this year, that describes God’s plan using the analogy of a master carpet weaver (further reflection here): the master weaver’s grandson is eager to assist him, so the master sets the grandson to work at one end of the loom while he, the master, starts from the other. The kid makes a mess of it, making mistake after mistake. But the master is so skillful at weaving that he accounts for the grandson’s “mistakes” in his design, and the pair end up with a stunning, seamless tapestry, and there’s no seam between the work of the master and the work of the grandson. God is eager for his people to participate in his work and is so wise and powerful that even the inevitable human failings form a part of his stunning, seamless plan.

Scripture quotations are taken from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition. Copyright © 2021 National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Further reading: