Monday, November 8, 2021

God in Our Doubts

  1 Kings 19:1-18

John 20:24-29

Mark 12:38-44

 

               In today’s Old Testament story we hear Elijah going through a spiritual crisis.  While in chapter 18 he had no problem standing up to the politics of the time, standing up to Queen Jezebel and her mandates on religion, here in chapter 19, he has fallen out of that place of confidence.  He is terrified, he is running away, he is hiding in a cave.  He is in a spiritual crisis.  He is in a time of doubt, a dark night of the soul.  And as a result he is lost in purpose, in meaning.  He is depressed, saying he’d rather die than face what is coming.  He has lost his sense of self.

               I think this is an almost universal feeling at some point: the feeling of being alone, unsure, scared, out of energy, out of meaning, confused in purpose, and yet still required to go on with your life: a place of having challenges that are overwhelming and don’t seem to be shared by those around us, but still needing to continue.  That feeling of depression and a sense of being lost as a person: wondering what you have done, or failed to do with your life; what you have or have not accomplished. A place of thinking through what has brought you to THIS point and being unsure how to move beyond or through it, a time of deep struggle.  I think about when our family went through its very hardest time and the fact that I often felt completely alone with all the work that was before me: taking care of three children and a congregation on my own in the midst of deep personal loss and grief, stress, humiliation and judgment.  But, unlike Elijah, I didn’t have the option to run away into the wilderness: I could not see any other option than to continue, to keep going.  Those moments can call one into a deep feeling of self-pity, or they can call us into being the best, the strongest, that we can be.  For Elijah this was a time of self-pity.  A cry for help.  A time of despair.  And that blinded Elijah to the truth.  As Paul Tilich once said it, “The opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty.”  But Elijah could not see that, so in his doubt he felt nothing but despair.

               And he believed himself, mistakenly, to be alone.  He was not alone.  There were many others in Israel who still followed, believed and were serving Yhwh.  We are told there were 7000 that were with him in vision, understanding and belief.  And at the end of the passage he anoints Jehu as king and Elisha as a prophet.  It was a temptation of Elijah to feel that he was alone, to believe he had to walk his path in isolation and without support.  It was an illusion to believe that he was being called on, the only one, to alone do this impossible task.  It was a place of self-indulgence to feel that self-pity and to hide in his cave of angst, despair and inaction.

               But what he found when he ran away from the frenetic activity of his life, when he escaped into the wilderness was not judgment or condemnation.  Instead, he was fed there.  How profound is that?  God did not yell at him for running away.  God recognizes that these times of doubt, of struggle and the need for retreat: these are part of being human.  These are necessary times of growth and regrouping in our lives.  And so God did not get angry or abandon Elijah.  Instead, God fed Elijah.  I believe this to be at two levels: physically and spiritually he was fed there.  His sense of inadequacy and his activity were keeping him from his relationship with God, but there in the wilderness, where he was alone with his self-pity and his thoughts, God’s response is first and foremost to FEED him.  We all need those times of reprieve, of break, and he took it and found he was fed.  He then continued on his journey and he came to the cave.  And there, too, God did not leave him alone.  First, he is confronted by his choices, “What are you doing here?” God asked.  It was not an attack, it was a question: why are you here rather than in Israel doing the work I call you do to?  Elijah responded by continuing in his complaint: I’ve done it all, all on my own, all that I was asked to do and now they are going to kill me!

               But even in that time of doubt, of self-pity, of fear, when he feels separated from God and wants to give up on his call, on his ministry, on his work, God is there.  Feeding him, calling him, present with him.  Because God is the one who pulls us out of that doubt.  We are called to be open to God’s presence, but it is God’s strength that enables us to move beyond those times.

               God speaks to Elijah, but not in the way he probably expected.  God does not speak to him in a flash of wondrous awe, God does not speak to him by shaking the ground and flipping the world upside down, God does not take charge and route the enemy for him.  Instead, God came to him in the way he least expected: in the silence.  This passage is not meant to suggest that this is the only way God approaches us or that God is mostly or only present in silence.  Rather this passage tells us that God often, if not always, comes in the ways that are not expected, in the least suspected places and times God shows up.  God is not always obvious.  God’s presence is not always clear.  While we like to know what to expect, while we like to have things outlined and clear, that’s just not how God functions.  There’s no map for us about where and how we will find God.  But God is there if we choose to pay attention. 

When Elijah finally does pay attention, God’s speaking here to Elijah is clear: go out and do what I am calling you to do.  Go and be who I am calling you to be.  Be done with the self-pity.  I want to point out again that God does not chastise or get upset with Elijah’s doubt: for doubt is a part of the journey.  Retreat is part of the journey.  Taking time away, time off is part of the journey.  Sabbath and Sabbatical are necessary parts of our faith.  But God does call him out of staying stuck in that place.  “You’ve been fed, you’ve had your time away, your time apart, your time off.  You’ve had your time of doubt, your time of anxiety, your dark-night of the soul.  But now it is time to live again: to be your full and complete self: the one I created and called you to be.” 

Today is Stewardship Sunday.  And I have to admit, at first I felt that to tie all of this into stewardship was going to be a real stretch.  But the reality is for all of us, our call is multifaceted, as well as a growing, living, active thing.  When we are young, we might be called to build houses for habitat, to earn money so that we have more resources to share, or to be a person who does things like bike for Bike Aid.  As we grow, that call maybe change: we are called to be the wise person serving on session or on deacons, listening, teaching, guiding; the comforter, the person who provides foods.  As we become even older, our call may change even more: we are called to less active pursuits, but still called to be the voice of truth, the voice or reason, the mediator, the bridge, and still generous.  Our calls change throughout our lives.  But in the midst of all of that change, our call to being present with God, loving to one another; and our call to be generous with whatever our times, our talents, and our resources are in that moment does not change.  That is not to say that there won’t be times of scarcity and times of plenty.  These, too, are part of the changing calls in our lives.  But we are universally called to give, not out of our abundance, but out of our scarcity as well.  The passage from Mark that was read today talked about the widow’s giving out of her poverty.  And what that means is that we give, even from the places where we feel “limited”.  This goes for finances, but for other things as well.  For example, we use the phrase, “putting in my two cents worth”.  Do we sometimes feel that we have nothing to contribute to a conversation?  That we are poor in our thoughts, in our ideas?  We are still called to give of them: God has an amazing way of speaking through our own ignorance or poverty of thought.  Do we say we have no talent in a certain way?  God has an amazing way of calling us to give even in areas where we feel we have no skills.  I never would have signed up to spend a summer building houses in Alabama, but when I signed up for a mission year, that is where I was sent.  That area: my lack of ability to do construction, was called upon.  I was called to give out of my poverty: out of my area where I felt I had no skills.  And in terms of finances, this also applies.

I preach this to myself as well.  There will be times for all of us that feel “tight”.  This year as I have two kids in college is one of those.  But the call of those in need, the call of our brothers and sisters who hunger and thirst at so many levels: physically, emotionally, spiritually: their need should be more important that our luxuries.  And what I find, consistently, is that the more I give, the more abundance returns to me.  This is the constant of my life, the consistent presence of God.  This is true at every possible level.  When I give more of my time, I find I have more time to give.  When I give more of my energy, I have more energy to share.  When I listen more fully to others, I find that they listen more fully to me as well.  And when I give more of my resources, such as money, they return to me in amazing, and unexpected ways! 

The truth is that our budgets say more about what we value than any mission statements we may have.  This is true personally as well as institutionally.  Where we put our money, where we put our resources: our time, our talents: this says everything about what we really value.  Do we value our buildings?  Or do we value our service to the poor?  Do we value our personnel?  Or do we value feeding people?  I realize I say this at my own risk, but this is true.  Where do we put our money?  That tells us, without exception, where are hearts really lie.

I want to return to the story of Elijah and point out that, again, as with everything, there are ebbs and flows, always.  Elijah needed that retreat time.  That time of doubt, that time of withdrawing: this is a normal and natural part of the faith journey.  God understands this.  God accepts this reality as part of what it is to be human.  When Jesus was in the garden at Gethsemane, he, too, expressed that doubt, that struggle, that fear and lack of confidence, and God did not criticize, judge or condemn it.  God understood that as well.  Finally in the passage from John we hear of Thomas’ doubt.  And it too was not condemned, critiqued or judged.

In every case, God allows it to be, and then God responds to that pain, that struggle, that choice to withdraw, to doubt, to fear, to be in pain: God responds to it by showing up.  God responds to it by being present.  God responds to it by restoring the trust that was broken, addressing the doubt with presence, calling attention to the relationship that grounds each of them in their faith, their love for God, their connection to God.  Just like with the story of Thomas.  Jesus did not withdraw from Thomas in Thomas’ doubt.  Instead, he came forward, presented himself, showed himself; restored the trust and the relationship.  Jesus understood and accepted where Thomas was.

But then Jesus called him into something new.  And then God calls us, too, into something new.  We can have our time of retreat: those times are necessary.  Sabbaticals, times away that are longer than the weekly Sabbath are deeply important.  We each need them.  But then we are called back into our callings, into our actions, and into our giving. 

On this Stewardship Sunday I want you to think about all the ways in which you give: your time, your talents, your BEING to God and to the service of God’s people.  How do you answer your call?  In what ways are you not answering the call fully?  In what areas are you afraid to answer or give in the way God calls you to answer or give?  In what areas do you feel poor?  In what ways are you avoiding the call you may be feeling?  In what areas have you retreated from your call and in what areas are you needing a break but have failed to claim it?  Where is God calling you in this moment?  With your giving of all that you are?  These are the questions of stewardship.  These are the questions of call.  These are the questions that these three passages, with their themes of retreat and return, doubt and faith, withdrawal and reengagement, fear and hope – these are the questions that they ask of us. 

So, as always, I invite you into a time of self-reflection, of asking and answering the questions for yourself.  Where is God with me today?  Where is God calling me to be today?  What parts of my call need my attention today?  And in what way can I respond to that call, to give of myself back to God and to one another with more honesty, integrity, commitment, generosity and truth? 

Peace be with you this day and on this journey of discernment.

No comments:

Post a Comment