6/20/04

Desolation, Consolation, and Rejuvenation

1 Kings 19:1-16
Galatians 3:23-29
Luke 8:26-39

The lectionary for this week provides rich soil for sermonic gardening, with a magnificent declaration of faith by Paul, sandwiched between two fertile narratives, Elijah's flight into the wilderness and the encounter of Jesus with the deranged man of Gerasene. I'm going to focus on comparing and contrasting the two stories.

In these two stories we learn three important lessons that will help us deal with life, (i) especially when we experience our own dark nights of the soul, when we feel God has abandoned us or let us down. As the reading from 1st Kings begins, Elijah has just come off a real high - in a test of faith and courage, he has defeated the rival prophets of the false god, Baal. But now he finds that the wicked Queen Jezebel is out to get him, and needless to say, he is frightened and feels bereft and desolate.

First lesson for those of us who try to serve faithfully is that we can expect periods of desolation. Most of us, I'm sure, try to live good, Christian lives. We try hard to follow the commandments, do works of charity, worship God regularly, support the ministry and mission of the church, and attempt to follow in the way of Jesus. In short, most of us try to serve God faithfully in our chosen walks of life. Unfortunately, doing all this does not guarantee us a life free from trouble, sorrow, or pain. In fact those who serve faithfully can expect to experience periods of desolation, when it feels like the bottom is dropping out from under us.

Elijah has just come off a time of enthusiasm and exhilaration, but very quickly he runs into a dilemma that plummets him into an abyss of darkness and despair. Step by step, he lowers his heart and soul into a bottomless pit. First, he becomes frightened. Then he runs for his life. Next, he abandons the one person who might give him the support he needs to get through this ordeal - he leaves his man-servant behind in Beersheba. Then he continues into the solitude of the wilderness alone. He is depressed and wants to die, kind of ironic, for later in the story he escapes a normal death by being taken up into heaven in a fiery chariot. But here in the wilderness, he gives in to exhaustion and fatigue, and finally he indulges in self-pity. Who can blame him; he's in an awful fix. If anti-depressants like Prozac had been invented, Elijah would have been a perfect recipient. Perhaps you or a loved one have experienced a similar descent into desolation. If so, you know only too well what Elijah was going through.

Now let's switch to our Gospel story for a few minutes. The man possessed by demons suffers from his own form of desolation. Cut off from society, living in sub-human conditions, tormented by strange thoughts and bizarre behaviors, the man of the tombs before Jesus comes into his life seems powerless to improve himself. If demon possession is something foreign to your understanding, think some extreme form of mental illness, like schizophrenia or paranoia. Or maybe the man is bi-polar or overwhelmed with addictions from which he is unable to extricate himself. Suffice to say, he has a multitude of things that are tying him up in knots - a veritable legion of problems.

Willy Loman in Arthur Miller's play, "Death of a Salesman" is a classic example of one who lives among the tombs. Willy never discovers the deep recesses of his soul, never comes to really know himself. He is all surface and no substance. Success, love, and respect are summed up as: "greetings given gladly, doors opened eagerly, sales made readily" - these represent the good life for him. Willy's existence among the tombs is played out in the safety and comfort zones of a life of risk-free guarantees, where peace and tranquility are his, but at great cost to his soul, to his personhood. At the end of the play Willy has descended into the tombs, into the land of the living dead, with no desire to live on, and no ability to live fully the life of his dreams. (ii)

Yet, for people of faith, in the midst of tomb-like existences, in the middle of the pits of desolation and despair, come flickers of light. The Psalmist, talking about the presence of God, writes: "... even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you." (iii) And in the prologue to the Gospel of John, we hear the coming of Christ described as a light shining in the darkness, that the darkness does not overcome. (iv) So, the second important lesson we can learn from these stories is that especially those who serve faithfully will receive consolation.

For Elijah, his consolation, his light in the darkness, is the angelic visitor who brings him sustenance and strength for the next leg of his journey. Twice the angel comes, encouraging him, prodding him, and enabling him to continue on. The angel food cake and Elijah's subsequent trek into the wilderness for forty days and forty nights, reminds us of the beginning of Jesus' ministry, when he is in the wilderness for the same period of time, and he declares that "one does not live by bread alone." (v) Indeed, Elijah is sustained by spiritual bread, not unlike the kind that Jesus would later describe, referring to himself as "the bread of life." (vi)

Elijah actually receives consolation two separate times. First is the touch of the angel, and the nourishment and encouragement provided. Second is his encounter with God on Mt. Horeb, when he hears the Word of the Lord for him and experiences God's presence. Lurking in a cave, he's asked by God what he's doing there. Again indulging in self-pity, Elijah declares that he is the only one left in all Israel who is still faithful to God. God then suggests that he go to the entrance of the cave, and when he does, he experiences the Lord, not in the wind, earthquake, or fire, but in the "sound of sheer silence," or as it says in other versions, as a "gentle whisper," or a "still, small voice." Sometimes we experience God's presence in a visit from someone who seems like an angel to us; sometimes it's in the words of another who is trying to help; sometimes, in the words of Holy Scripture that suddenly come alive. Sometimes we experience God's presence in the midst of silence, when there are no words, no noises, no distractions. As a new UCC ad campaign suggests, "God is still speaking" - in many ways.

For the man living in the tombs, Jesus' arrival in his locale must seem like the visit of a heavenly angel. The naked man throws himself at Jesus' feet, begging him for comfort and relief. Obviously he is confused and not in his right mind, but in the midst of his confusion he instinctively knows from whom his consolation will come, even if he cannot properly ask for it. In this story, silence actually does not play a role; Jesus verbally commands the unclean spirits or the demons to come out of the man, and much to the amazement of all, they do!

We are now moving into the last of the three lessons to be learned from these two stories. Those who serve faithfully will be restored and will experience rejuvenation. What we see in the Garasene demoniac story is that sometimes, purely because of God's grace, even those who appear not to deserve it, also experience rejuvenation.

Back to the silence in the Elijah story. You know as I, the power of silence. You know that the power of words is often felt because of the silence surrounding them. In worship surveys we've done in the past, many of you have commented that you really appreciate the silent time we have after our confession and during the morning prayer. Sheer silence can be very therapeutic and rejuvenating. How often do you drive in your car by yourself and not turn on the radio or CD player? If you haven't done so in awhile, try it. Though of course we have to remain alert when driving, such times are good ones for letting God "speak" to us in the silence. God is still speaking.

Stillness and silence are not ends in themselves, though. For example, hopefully the silence in our prayer time energizes us for gospel action, so that we will not only feel the grace of God in our own lives, but will feel compelled to share that love with others. We Christians individually and together as the church have always wrestled with the Martha-Mary dilemma - should we devote ourselves to contemplation or to action? Which is the better way? For most of us the answer is both - both are important enterprises of the soul and crucial for persons of faith. In our two stories this morning, after the rejuvenation that comes from consolation, there's a call to action, and for both Elijah and the Gerasene, this is a necessary part of being made whole, of being restored, of being rejuvenated. Both men are asked a question, and both are sent out.

The question for Elijah, asked twice by God, is "What are you doing here?" Both times that Elijah answers the question, he feels sorry for himself, and with good reason. But God, demonstrating tough love, ignores his self-pity and sends him somewhere. The first time, earlier, he's sent by the angel on a long trek and then up a mountain. The second time, at the cave, he's sent back in the same direction from which he came. Go back through the wilderness, God says in effect, and when you get where you're supposed to be, anoint a couple of kings, and then anoint your own successor - implying that Elijah won't be around forever. Perhaps for us, God's instructions to Elijah are not as important as recognizing that he must move on. None of us can stay forever with mountaintop experiences, even though they may be very pleasant.

We, too, must move on. What are we doing here? Yes, we're here for personal fulfillment, to get our spiritual batteries recharged; yes, we're here for fellowship; we're here for mutual encouragement; and maybe for a host of other reasons. But we can't stay here. We are called to action, to do something, to go out and tell others about what Jesus has done for us, to go out and spread God's love to others in how we live our lives and in what we do.

Interestingly, this is also what happens to the man of Gerasene after Jesus cures him. But before this, he asks him a question, "What is your name?" Jesus always wants to know who we really think we are, always wishes to enter into a personal relationship with us, and always wants us to be honest with him. The man answers, "Legion," for his afflictions are many. Jesus quickly responds to his obvious need and sends the demons into the pigs, who run over the cliff. The swineherds, probably not too happy, since they've suddenly been deprived of their livelihood, go back to the city to tell the people, and when these folks come out to see what's happened, they find the demon-possessed man, now in his right mind, fully clothed. The townspeople become concerned about all this - what might Jesus change in us that we don't want changed, they perhaps are wondering, so they ask him to leave, we would guess, not very politely.

Jesus climbs back into his boat and is ready to shove off, back across the Sea of Galilee, when the man runs up to him, begging to go with him. Jesus is quite firm: "No, return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you." The task the man is given is a difficult one, but it's the very same task Jesus gives to all of us. We are to serve the Lord in some of the most difficult places, ironically, we can imagine, where we live and work, among our own families, neighbors, and friends. For sure, some are called to distant lands or to specialized ministries, but for most of us we are called to serve faithfully right where we are, to bloom where we are planted.

Yes, we will at times experience desolation; it goes with the territory when we're called to follow Christ. But we are also promised consolation and eventually rejuvenation, which prepare us to again jump back into the fray. We always need to remember that God never abandons us. It may feel like that at times, but God really is always with us, providing for us whatever we need, helping us to get through our desolation, and to get on with our lives. Believe this, my friends, for it is the gospel truth. Amen.

The Pilgrim Church of Duxbury
Rev. Kenneth C. Landall

i The idea for the outline of this sermon came from Harry Farr, "Holy Contemplation and Sacramental Action," Biblical Preaching Journal, Spring 1995, 6/25/95.
ii Emphasis, May-June, 1995, p. 58.
iii Psalm 139:12.
iv John 1:5.
v Luke 4:4b.
vi John 6:35.