You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Elijah’ tag.

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Last Sunday, one of our scriptures was from 1 Kings, the story of Elijah. For those of you who don’t remember the specifics about Elijah, he was a prophet of the Lord. He fled into the wilderness where, twice, angels brought him food and water. As a child, I always thought of how much Elijah must mean to God who sent heavenly messengers to care for his servant.

Sunday our pastor challenged us to think a little bit differently about the nature of those angels. Why? Because there is more than one definition for the word angel. The way the word is most often used, angels are winged messengers from God.

But there is another definition and that is a person of virtue and good conduct. What if the angels who found Elijah and gave him food and water weren’t winged messengers but ordinary human beings?

So often the problems that we see around us seem insurmountable – poverty, climate change, the health care crisis, the need for affordable housing. It is tempting to look at these massive problems and wait for equally massive solutions. But what if we were to think of Elijah and the possibility of human angels?

I can’t solve global hunger but I can distribute sack suppers twice a month at my church. These aren’t huge meals – just a grilled hot dog, fruit, chips, and a bottle of water. And we give out from 80 to 100 on a really good night. But that’s 80 to 100 people who have a bit of warm food and a friendly word.

It may not seem significant to those of us who have so much. But to those who have food insecurity or perhaps just need to be seen and blessed, it can make an impact.

What problems exist in your community? Where might you go with angels wings.

–SueBE

Most of us figure you’ve got to be loud to make yourself heard. And who doesn’t want to be heard? I certainly do. It took a revisiting of 1 Kings 19: 9-13 to remind me that God chooses all sorts of ways to communicate. In Elijah’s case, it wasn’t a roaring wind, an earthquake or a fire that revealed God; it was a whisper: a small, still voice.

Lord, I said, I’d like to be a burning bush,
all rush and heat, threat and beacon,
righteous flame dancing from my fingertips
as words singe the page. But no, child,
God replied.

I give you stillness. Silence to sit in,
to dwell in like a stone in clear water.
Open your lips to speak: I will come from you
like a whisper, a breeze, a suggestion. You will have
to train your ears to hear me.

So I listen. I mouth words onto paper;
perhaps they are read. But I know them
to be living, airborne, ready
to join a chorus of whispers
singing one true thing.

Archive

Have a Mary Little Christmas

%d bloggers like this: