Message preached November 12, 2000
Long Green Valley Church of the Brethren
Glen Arm, Maryland USA
based upon 1 Kings 17:8-16,  Mark 12:38-44

The saga of Elijah, perhaps the greatest prophet in the Bible, begins in a most interesting way. This powerful man, who speaks for God, enters with a word. Ahab, the king of Israel, has been unfaithful to his Creator, following in the steps of his father, Omri who, as scripture says "did what was evil in the sight of the Lord, more than all who were before him" (1 Kings 16:25, 30). These two men, king and prophet, will be locked in conflict for a long time to come. Provoked by Ahab’s actions, God’s anger is given voice by Elijah, who starts their running battle with these words: "As the Lord the God of Israel lives, there shall be neither dew nor rain these years, except by my word." (17:1)

Now, what’s interesting is what comes next. From the king’s castle, Elijah is safely guided out of harm’s way by God. After all, it’s dangerous business to threaten a king. Along the way of his escape, Elijah is fed by "ravens." [Of course, some of us will also be fed by "Ravens" this afternoon, facing other "Titans," but that’s another story.] Elijah is then told to journey to Zarepheth, to the home of a widow. Now, this is where it gets interesting. Zarepheth, you see, lies on the Mediterranean sea in another country, the nation of Phoenicia. That means this widow to whom Elijah is directed is not an Israelite, a point significant enough that Jesus later remarked on it in his hometown of Nazareth, which almost caused his own death, had it not been for God’s intervening hand (see Luke 4:23-28).

One caution before we proceed. Even though this widow is nameless, she is a real person. A temptation we face in reading this story about Elijah and Ahab, is to see this woman as mere "window dressing" in the larger saga, a decorated prop to show off the goods inside. Faithful attention to the Bible allows us no such move. As with other characters within these pages, she should not live in our imagination just to move the plot along, or only to teach some principle. The widow of Zarephath reveals something about God and about us only insomuch as we allow her to be dressed in flesh and blood, and find some common ground with her as a human being touched by the Eternal One, who lives now as then.

What’s so interesting about this way of beginning the story of Elijah is that it starts out at the margins, connecting with a seemingly insignificant person. Ah! The point is, there are no insignificant people in God’s eyes. King Ahab may get all the press, but it’s a widow who steals the show. It’s for persons like this that God sent Elijah, and it’s from persons like this that Elijah receives his sustenance.

When we first meet this woman, she and her son are nearly at death’s door. They are only one meal away from their final exit. In fact, she is in the process of preparing their last supper when Elijah arrives. If we do not hear the desperation of her situation, we are not listening to the Word. How strange it is to be dying of a drought when the sea is so near you can smell it. Without the rains from heaven, however, the riches of the salty sea are but an illusion. How unfair for someone in no way connected to the corrupt king of a foreign country to suffer because of him. Unfair, yet unfortunately all-too-often the case in this world.

Elijah asks this widow, whose eyes are set upon her and her son’s departure, their exodus from this world, to share water and bread. Can we grasp what this means for her, we who are rich beyond measure? Last week, brother Ellis Shenk spoke of the poor in Bangladesh, for whom the last thing to be sold in tough times is the cookware, meaning that hope for the next meal has disappeared. That is where this widow lives. And yet, she is persuaded by Elijah to turn from her last supper and prepare him a meal. King Ahab, in all his wealth, was unconvinced by the words of this powerful prophet, yet this woman listened, and gave her last morsel.

How awful! If you cannot cry "foul!" I will. This is not fair! Would you ask the same of a mother in Ethiopia who carries a skin-and-bone child in her arms. My God, why?... If we are not at the point of asking such a question, of being outraged by the circumstances, then what right have we to be taught anything by this woman? And yet, at her feet we learn about true hospitality, and we catch a glimpse of a living God who cares about widows, even widows who are not children of Israel.

This woman’s act of giving, clinging to Elijah’s slim words of promise, result in her and her son’s salvation. The jar of flour and the jar of oil never go empty for the duration of the drought. What a thin thread his promise must have seemed to her at the time, however. Can a man’s word be trusted? Yes, there is a miracle in this story. But, I ask you - is the miracle how a jar never empties, or how a widow grasps God’s tapestry by the slenderest of strands and does not let go? Regardless, along the way she is woven into the tapestry of God’s story - a real person acting on faith, doing the right thing.

Of course, there is more to this story, as there is more to every story. The election this past week, by the way, reminded us that the ongoing story of our nation is not just about the big people who run the show. Each vote matters, and each person behind that vote has an ongoing story. There are no insignificant people, at least not in the eyes of God. I love that song in last year’s animated movie, The Prince of Egypt, in which the biblical character, Jethro, sings to his future son-in-law Moses, encouraging this young man (down on his luck) to try to see his "life through heaven's eyes." (song by Hans Zimmer, ©1998)  Isn’t that why we are here today? "Seek first the kingdom of God," Jesus said. Seek to see your life through the eyes of heaven.

Now, we go through this routine every November where we, as a church, challenge you to look at your finances for the coming year and make a faith commitment concerning what you will return to the Lord in response to his goodness to you. That is, look at your life through heaven's eyes. Yes, this involves dollars and cents, with which the ongoing mission of this church is empowered. Your offerings are important to what we are about in this world. Not just someone else’s gifts. Your own.

However, this pledge process is about more than dollars and cents. It’s a spiritual matter, also. And it involves an ongoing story - your own. God is a part of your story. There are, after all, no insignificant people in God’s eyes. We tend to believe that it’s what the "big people" do that is important, folks like Elijah or Ahab. I guess we do this because, in many cases, it’s easier to see their lives through the eyes of heaven than our own. Remember the widow of Zarephath, however. Like her, we are not just window dressings, though we may sometimes act that way. We are a part of God’s ongoing story.

Now, it may be difficult for you or I to connect with this lady. After all, for the most part we are not even close to fitting financially into her shoes, or her lack thereof. That’s her story, though. When it comes to our story, however, what might God be asking of us through some other Elijah, literal or figurative? What is most scarce in your life? In what do you feel down to the last morsel? What jar in your life seems all but empty? Forgive me if you are an eternal optimist for whom every jar is always half full, not half empty or worse. May your tribe increase!

What would you declare in the debit side of your life’s account book? Some of us might answer "time." There never seems enough to go around, even though we know we are given all the time we need. Others of us may say "energy." We’d like to do more, but our "get up and go" got up and went somewhere. Still others of us could point to a lack of "purpose," or "focus," or a sense of "direction." We have no idea why we are doing what we’re doing, we just don’t think we can keep it up, whatever it is. What last supper are we dining at? What is most scarce for you?

And Elijah said, "Bring me a morsel (of it) in your hand." Please note, in the story of the widow of Zarephath, he did not say, "Bring me everything you’ve got, pile it on my plate that I may gorge myself in a huge feast while you watch, thus depriving you and your son of your last meal." In the first place, it was obvious that this was no rich lady. Secondly, he only asked for a piece of bread, a small tortilla - so to speak. For her, though, this "morsel" represented everything she had left. Of course, let’s be honest - she had nothing to lose. What is a final meal when you know there is no more, that it only prolongs the inevitable? The process of dying had already begun.

No, all Elijah asked was a morsel. And then he continued, "Don’t be afraid; go ahead (and prepare your last meal); but first make me a little cake of it and bring it to me, and afterwards make something for yourself and your son. For thus says the LORD the God of Israel: The jar of meal will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not fail until the day that the LORD sends rain on the earth." (17:13-14)

In our story, yours and mine, what is God asking of us? A bit of our all-too-limited time? A morsel of our already expended energy? A piece of our scattered purpose? A glimpse of our blurred focus? A turn in our confused sense of direction? You fill in the blank. Now, what would the promise mean for us to hear that this jar will not be emptied? Can we hear that promise? Does it move us beyond a morsel? A tenth? Even more? Everything?

Speaking of jars, we heard earlier a story of another nameless widow in the Bible, this one observed by Jesus in the Temple. As far as we know, he made no contact with her. She was, however, more than just an illustration for our Lord, more than window dressing. She was a flesh and blood person whom Jesus said put her last two coins into one of the big, metal offering jars. They hardly made a sound next to the clanging of the bigger givers’ offerings. And yet Jesus heard, and saw her gift through the eyes of heaven. Of course, we don’t know any more of her story.  (For more on the Widow's Mite, see "Putting in Everything")  There’s a lot of stories like that, aren’t there? We only hear a little of them, and wonder.

However, we are a part of our own story - what God is doing in, through, and beyond us (even as we struggle to see it), and what God is asking of us. For you, what morsel is requested? What promise is being revealed? The truth is, we are far richer in all things than we realize. Do we stop, then, at a morsel?

©2000 Peter L. Haynes

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