Sermons

"Prophet in the Neighborhood"

Delivered from the Pulpit of First Congregational Church

of Anchorage by The Reverend Mark E. Long

on June 7, 2009

Lections:  I Kgs. 16.29-30; 17.1-7

                 Js. 5.7-11

                 Mt. 11.13-19

By the fortunes of fate, the topic this morning is Elijah being fed by ravens in I Kings 17.  I suspect that the matter was written down and slipped in the box in the hopes to shed some light on why ravenous, greedy birds would drop bread and meat in the vicinity of a hungry Elijah.  Surely God works in mysterious and even odd ways.  And taking the passage alone, this would be the point.  God will provide whatever is needed by God's humble servant even in the most unexpected ways.

But the "raven" passage is embedded in a larger story, and to focus on the birds is to miss the forest for the trees.  There is a lesson here larger than the assurance of God's protection.

The larger story begins in the mess of things that a succession of Israel's kings had made of things.  After Solomon, Israel's kings tried one by one to prove their disobedience to God was greater than the last.  The line finally got to Ahab, son of Omri (who himself was godless through and through).

Ahab made the rather major mistake of marrying a Phoenician princess named Jezebel.  The reason for the marriage was understandable, to open up trade opportunities for Israel with Tyre - done all the time before and after, as history of just about any country will show.  But the problem for Ahab is that Jezebel was the daughter of the Phoenician king whose very name, Ethbaal, showed his religious inclination to worship Baal, a rival "thunder and rain" god to the Israelites own "thunder and rain" god, YHWH.  It is not difficult to see where this is going.

As if marrying into this family was not bad enough, Ahab jumped into the alternative god pit with both feet.  He not only served and worshipped Baal, but built an altar for Baal.  Ahab then built for good measure a cult symbol (a sacred pole) to honor Asherah, Baal's female consort.  As the Scripture says, "Ahab did more to provoke the anger of the Lord (YHWH), the God of Israel, than had all the kings of Israel who were before him."  No small feat but Ahab was equal to the deed.

When one of Israel's kings misbehaves the story usually soon tells of a prophet in the neighborhood to tell the king the consequence of his disobedience.  Sure enough, Elijah suddenly appears with unhappy news.  There will be a drought - a three-year drought.  In an agricultural community, no rain means no food.  So Israel is in for a hard time ahead.

This is where the "raven" part of the story comes in as Elijah goes to the wadi, east of the Jordan River, to drink and be taken care of by the ravens.  But eventually the wadi dries up and Elijah moves on to Sidon, home of Jezebel, where the story turns to a near starving widow feeding Elijah and even more miraculous things happen than helpful ravens.

What to make of this story?  I don't know about historically, perhaps there was a long drought during Ahab's reign that needed to be explained.  But religiously, the passage anticipates Elijah's showdown with the "Baal boys" (priests) on Mt. Carmel in Chapter 18.

Our story this morning is essentially a demonstration of YHWH's power and Baal's ineffectiveness.  When YHWH says "there shall be neither dew nor rain these years, except by my word," Baal is helpless to bring a drop of water.  The "raven" passage is simply an example that God is able to deliver and the terms of his willingness to do so.   YHWH will meet Elijah's needs because he is willing to listen and follow where he is told to go and what he is told to do when he gets there.

This is the overarching idea of the story.  The prophet must listen; then go as he hears, to do as instructed.  If he does, the promise is that his needs will be met.  It is no coincidence, I think, that the "ravens" episode is followed by the similar story of the "widow" - sort of puts an exclamation point on the lesson.

But there is another aspect of the story, particular to Elijah the prophet of all this calamity, that intrigues me.  Elijah's name means "My God is YHWH (the Lord)." 

Israel, remember, was a model of compromise thanks to Ahab and his earlier family members.  Baal and other Canaanite gods are worshipped and served along with YHWH in the temples.  Israel's worship practices are tainted at best, corrupt at worst as Ahab tries to serve two gods at once; the god of his people and the gods of the land in which his people now live.  It was to end unhappily for all. 

Into this picture of compromise, accommodation, and disobedience comes Elijah whose very name "My God is YHWH (the Lord)" sets things on edge.  The speaking of his name itself convicts Ahab even before Elijah gets to the consequences.  Most importantly, Elijah did his part; he went to where he was told to go and said what he was told to say once there.  He was faithful to all that a prophet in any neighborhood is required to do.  To go and speak around the neighborhood and maybe even in its hostile places, "My God is the Lord."  But he is required to go and say this much.

What does it mean in our time and place to be a prophet around the neighborhood?  Will we go and say even in its hostile places the modern version of "My God is YHWH?"  Are we willing to be patient enough to speak and keep speaking when the results are not visible or immediate?  Are we willing to suffer the looks or comments that sometimes follow standing beside society's outsiders?  Are we willing to look into the faces of their - and now our - critics and say "Let anyone with ears listen?"

As we consider our place where we gather to listen for the Spirit, nurture each other's resolve and prepare what we will say or do as a prophet in the neighborhood, let's resist becoming a temple of compromise which trades our values for popularity or settles to be familiar rather than bold or comfortably numb instead of challengingly alive.  Whatever others may do out of fear, may we only act out of love to be true to ourselves, bold in our ways, and energized by a Spirit that calls our voice to be prophetic ones.

The prophetic role is ours.  It is not mine alone, or the Deacons or any other committee of the Church.  It belongs to each of us; we all need to pray, listen, and develop ways for our church to be Elijah to and in Anchorage.  Not in the sense to bring bad news of drought and famine, as Elijah unfortunately was called to do; but to be one that will stand up to an increasingly secular culture and say with conviction and without reluctance, "My God is the Lord."  If we will, then the story within a story tells us this morning that God will provide for our needs, even in some rather remarkable and unexpected ways.

This is how I see the "raven" passage and the larger story in which its assurances of God's faithfulness are given.  Amen.