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Sermon for November 10, 2024
Pentecost 25 B
1 Kings 17:8-16
Rev. Karl-John N. Stone
It’s an unlikely pair, Elijah and the widow of Zarephath, and they appeared to have little in common. Elijah was a prophet—someone whom the Lord sends with authority to speak a special message. He began his ministry in Israel during the reign of King Ahab, about 900 years before the time of Jesus. The Old Testament tells us that Ahab, son of Omri, reigned for 22 years and “did evil in the sight of the Lord more than all who were before him.” On top of that, Ahab married Jezebel who was “daughter of King Ethbaal of the Sidonians.” This marriage was made for political reasons of forming an alliance between their countries, but Jezebel was very undiplomatic—she did not respect the people or culture of her new country where she was to be queen, and did everything she could to undermine the religion and faith of the Israelites, including killing the prophets and tearing down the altars of the Lord.
It was because of this situation that God called Elijah to be a prophet, and to speak God’s Word to Ahab and Jezebel. In return Ahab and Jezebel imposed their wrath against Elijah any time they could. As a result, Elijah was a man on the run, moving from place to place seeking shelter and safety; yet he became respected and revered by the people.
Then there was the widow of Zarephath, someone with a very different background. In contrast to Elijah, we don’t even know her name, even though the prophet lived with her and her son for more than 2 years. Rather than being “on the run” from trouble and danger like Elijah, she was tied to her community in a place called Zarephath. This town was part of Sidon, the homeland of Queen Jezebel. The widow did not share the same faith or culture as Elijah, and she had no ambitions of speaking truth to power as he did. Her main concern was her small family, and she struggled to simply keep them alive in their modest home.
Yet these two very different people did have something in common. They were living through a terrible drought, making both of them extremely vulnerable, as they tried scraping together enough food and water to get through the day. They had something else in common, too. The Word of the Lord came to each of them, and commanded these people (who were strangers to each other) to do something that involved each other.
1 Kings 17 tells us that “the Word of the Lord came to Elijah saying, ‘Go now to Zarephath, which belongs to Sidon, and live there; for I have commanded a widow there to feed you.’” So Elijah left the dried-up marsh he’d been hiding in east of the Jordan River, and went up north to Sidon, homeland of Queen Jezebel who wanted to kill him. Not just to visit, but to live there, in the land of his enemy. Of all the possible scenarios Elijah had imagined for his life, this was probably not one of them. He would need to figure out how to live among a people he didn’t know, who worshiped a different god, had a different culture and way of seeing the world. And he thought his calling was to be a prophet in Israel—the Word of the Lord would be of no importance to the people of Sidon. And this new place was no step up; it was just as stricken by drought as where he used to live. Then when he got there, a widow was supposed to care for him? Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? The laws of Moses taught that widows and orphans—the most vulnerable people of that society—were the ones who were supposed to be cared for by people with more wealth and power.
But that’s not the only unlikely thing happening. The story is told from Elijah’s perspective, but we get a clue of something else, when God says to him “I have commanded a widow in Zarephath to feed you.” This means that the Word of the Lord not only came to Elijah, but that it came first to the widow of Zarephath. There’s a whole backstory we never get to hear, leading up to when she meets Elijah. But at least we do know that God spoke to her—a woman of a different country, a different religion, living under a king who was father of Jezebel, Elijah’s sworn enemy. And we learn that the widow, like Elijah, responded to the Lord’s command with faith.
If we imagine the widow’s unknown backstory, it sheds some light how she met Elijah at the town gate. It’s like they were both putting feelers out as they talked, wondering—“is this the person whom the Lord has been directing me to?” When they meet, the widow has almost nothing, and is actually resigned to dying—she’s in the process of collecting sticks to make a fire so she can cook the little bit of meal and oil she’s got into a morsel of bread—a Last Supper of sorts for her and her son. Beyond that, she has nothing left but the choice of whether to believe the Word of the Lord that came to her, and the choice of whether to trust that Elijah is the person God asked her to provide hospitality to. Maybe she’s thinking, “if this is the last thing I ever do, at least I’ll be showing kindness to a stranger and serving my neighbor.”
Elijah also has nothing—even less than the widow’s small portion of flour and oil. All he had was the hope that the Lord would provide, and bring something good out of his difficult circumstances. And like the widow, he also had the choice of whether to believe the Word of the Lord that came to him, and the choice of whether to trust that this widow with almost nothing would care for him in his time of need.
And so two people, from different backgrounds and beliefs, who had very little in common, and who almost certainly felt vulnerable and uncomfortable in meeting each other, somehow found a way to open their lives to each other in trust, by relying on God’s ability to bring them together across their differences, so they could help each other survive and eventually to find new life. They begin building trust by choosing to turn toward each other, as neighbors and as fellow children of God. And in so doing, the Lord fulfills his promise to Elijah: “the jar of meal and the jug of oil will not fail until the drought ends.” Both would eat and live.
What does the Word of the Lord that came to Elijah and the widow have to say to us? We live in a time when many people are suspicious of others. People come from different backgrounds and make sense of the world in different ways. We’ve all felt the divisiveness of this past election season, and many of us know some who are thrilled and some who are despairing because of the results, as well as those who fall somewhere in between. You are allowed to feel however it is you feel. There’s no easy way to repair the divisions many feel. But when you do feel ready, you can begin to lay the groundwork for finding a new way forward by building the possibility of trust. You can begin by turning toward other people, recognizing like Elijah and the widow that even though it makes you vulnerable to turn towards someone else, other people have something to teach you. And you have something to teach other people. You and the other person may have all kinds of differences in perspective, life experience, wealth, religion, career, education, politics, or hopes for the future—and you don’t have to change your mind, or anyone else’s mind, about any of it to recognize that our mutual well-being as a society is tied up in each other, and especially in the well-being of people who are the most vulnerable.
Cultivating this mindset requires faith that somehow God is present within everyone. As Christians, we can have this faith because Jesus gave his life on the cross for everyone; opening the way of reconciliation with God and with our fellow human beings. This kind of reconciliation that Jesus has won for us doesn’t necessarily come quickly or easily; it’s a life-long process—of listening in patience and trust for God to speak a Word into your life when the time is right. This Word can bring you together with others across your differences; not only to survive the present moment, but eventually to find new life together. Amen.