Pentecost 2, Year C, Proper 5

June 10, 2007

The Rev. Dena Cleaver-Bartholomew

 

 

 

            Last week I saw a promotion for a CNN special.  It featured a NASA climatologist who said:  “Now I realize that ‘normal’ is just a cycle on the washing machine.  We don’t live in a normal world anymore.”  From the context it was clear he was talking about global warming and climate change.  Yet the truth of his comment extends far beyond the weather. 

            In the reading from the First Book of Kings we find ourselves in the middle of the Elijah saga.  Elijah, whose name means “My God is the LORD,” has been sent to King Ahab of Israel.  Ahab had married Jezebel, a Phoenician princess, and had dedicated himself to serving Baal, the local god.  Elijah challenged the power of Baal, believed to be the god of all fertility, by declaring that “As the LORD the God of Israel lives…there shall be neither dew nor rain these years, except by my word.”  A drought ensued immediately.  Things were about to deviate from ‘normal’ in a very dramatic way.  God sent Elijah into the wilderness by a small riverbed, away from an angry Ahab, and sent ravens to feed him.  When the riverbed dried up we find Elijah sent into the heart of Baal country to a widow, which is the beginning of today’s reading.

            A widow in a patriarchal culture was one of the most vulnerable people in society.  Elijah found this widow, profoundly affected by the drought, gathering sticks to cook the last meal for herself and her son before they starved to death.  In a response reminiscent of angelic greetings, Elijah says “Do not be afraid.”  That is our cue that God is about to do something different here, that we are moving out of the realm of normalcy.  She is asked to trust enough to feed Elijah first, believing that the LORD will sustain them all.  Her faithful response is rewarded with food enough for them all.  The moral of the story would seem to be that if we too could learn to respond as faithfully as this virtuous widow did, all would be well.  But then there is the second half of the story, in which this neat little if-then construction falls apart.  Her son dies.  It is one of those horrible moments when we ask ourselves why bad things happen to good people.  Her answer to this question is to believe that it is her fault; that Elijah’s presence has reminded God of her sins and she is being punished.  Elijah takes her son and seeks to intercede, when a miracle occurs.  “The LORD listened to the voice of Elijah…”  It is because God chose to listen to Elijah’s passionate intercession that the boy was brought to life again and Elijah “gave him to his mother.”  The miracle affirms for her that Elijah is indeed a man of God. 

            In the Gospel reading we find Jesus witnessing a funeral procession, that of the only son of a widow.  The parallel with the widow from Elijah’s story is obvious, as is the response of Jesus:  “…he had compassion for her.”  Jesus says to her, “Do not weep.”  Once again, the one representing God encourages a response that is the opposite of what we would expect for the situation.  That is because the situation is about to change.  In a moment she will have no reason to, as the Greek says literally, “go on weeping.”  Jesus touches the bier, commands the young man to rise, and he does.  There is no prolonged effort on Jesus’ part, no waiting to discern whether God has heard his plea.  Jesus simply speaks and it is done, for Jesus is God.  Then the text echoes that of Elijah’s story precisely, for Jesus “gave him to his mother.”  By this miracle the crowd realizes that Jesus too is a man of God.

            In his book Faith Beyond Resentment, James Alison has a chapter entitled Theology amidst the stones and dust.”  In it Alison explores biblical narratives where people of faith “experience a collapse of the sacred theology that had sustained them.”  Both Elijah and Paul, who speaks of his conversion experience in the reading from Galatians, had been men of great religious zeal who were willing to persecute those who did not understand God as they did.  Each man had an experience of God that changed their understanding of faith and sent them into the desert to regroup and reconsider how to go forward from a new place.  I imagine that the two widows we have heard about today were faced with a choice in their response.  Each woman had a dead son returned to them through God’s compassion.  Do they simply return to life as usual or has everything changed in the face of such a miracle?  What does “normal” mean when our entire framework for understanding how God works has shifted suddenly?  Remember what the disciples did after Jesus’ crucifixion?  According to John they went back to fishing, to what they knew before Jesus.  What booted them out of seeking a return to normalcy was Jesus appearing to them as the Risen Lord.  The Resurrection changed everything.  There was no going back and trying to squeeze new life into an old box, no matter how wonderful that box might have been.  The disciples had to go forward, into the unknown, as active participants in whatever path God was creating for the present and the future. 

            Anderson Cooper, famed for his in depth reporting from the midst of crises around the world, tried to explain the dynamic that compels him personally to go among those suffering:  “I wished I knew how to explain it to them.  It’s as if a window opens, and you realize the world has been re-formed.  I wanted to see the starvation.  I needed to remind myself of its reality.  I worry that if I get too comfortable, too complacent, I’ll lose all feeling, all sensation.”

            God is doing a new thing in this place.  In the midst of preparing for the call and arrival of a new rector I have heard many who crave the return to the golden days of St. Paul’s, however they might define them.  It is an understandable human response to want to get through whatever pain, discomfort, grief, anger or frustration we might be feeling when the world we know changes.  We want to be done with this wilderness period and get back to normal.  God has compassion for us as we struggle through change.  Our model for how things ought to be is falling apart in the face of how things are.  Perhaps that is the point.  Like Elijah, Paul, and the disciples, we may be outgrowing what we have known without knowing what comes next.  Even for the widows who had their sons restored to them, nothing will ever be the same.  Normal” is way too small a paradigm for God.  We need to realize that the world is being re-formed, and that includes our own small corner of it here at St. Paul’s.  Do not be afraid.  This is our cue that God has something new in mind.

 

Amen