Sermons

The Ninth Sunday after Trinity
Sunday 13th August at 8am

Lesley Ashton
Readings: 1Kings 19.4-8; John 6.35,41-51

In the Old Testament reading we find Elijah, alone, in the wilderness at the end of his energy and human resources. He is ready to die, life is all too much for him to cope with and to bear. He has been through a period of great stress, he has just triumphed in his contest with hundreds of prophets of Baal and Asherah at Mount Carmel. He has over seen their slaughter and he now finds himself the subject of a death warrant issued by Jezebel in revenge for the murders he has committed.

In a short time he has come from a mountain top experience of victory and is heading for the more deserted wastes, seeking refuge from royal power. He is exhausted and fearful and he says to God 'Take away my life, I might as well be dead'

Curiously Elijah is asking God to perform that from which he is running away. God however has other plans, an angel is sent bringing bread and water and returns a second time bringing food for the journey that Elijah is to make to Mount Sinai where God will speak to him. In his place of brokenness and despair Elijah is tended by an unnamed angel.

The angel awakens Elijah, the angel brings bread and water, the angel encourages Elijah to eat and to continue his journey. Elijah accepts the gifts and he is receptive to the instructions. He does not argue, express annoyance or disappointment, he takes what is offered and is willing to receive other than what he requested from God. He receives life rather than death. He is open to the possibility that there is a future and that he should make himself ready for it.

God is calling him on a journey, led by and towards God who has other things for him to do and to accomplish.

We surely all have our 'Elijah in the wilderness moments', times when we are utterly exhausted, times when we feel broken and defeated, occasions when we feel threatened and fearful. We are fortunate indeed it there are not times in our lives when we simply feel like giving up, when we cannot see a way forward, when we cry out to God. Perhaps only a few of us have asked God to let us die but most of us do have times of utter despair.

What can we learn from this story of Elijah?

Firstly it is good to be honest and to cry out to God and let us always be thankful that we are in communion with the God who wants to be in relationship with us. It is okay to tell God just how difficult life is and how we are feeling. The relationship we have with God should not be one of exchanging pleasantries but one that is real and where there is an ongoing sharing of our joys and out pains, our brokenness and our thankfulness.

Secondly. We should not be surprised if what we receive from God is different to what we ask, especially if we ask for something that is neither life giving nor life affirming. The gifts that God gives to us are those that create, sustain and liberate us.

Thirdly, we must, like Elijah, accept the gifts that we are offered. I fear that all too often we fail to recognise or accept the people and resources that God sends to our aid. We can be a proud, independent people, convinced of our own strength and sometimes we allow ourselves to be brought very low before we are willing to accept help or support.

Sometimes angels come and minister to us and we fail to recognise them or to respond to them because we were expecting help from another source, sometimes a source that is a little more recognisable or acceptable. The grace of God can come to us in the smile of a stranger, the kindness of a care worker, the touch of one we hardly know or perhaps even secretly despise.

Sometimes we find it more acceptable to remain in our misery, especially if it misery that is known and has become comfortable, than to explore, with help, the possibilities of new life. Elijah could have curled up and continued to feel distraught but he chose to accept the help and sustenance that he was offered.
It was forty days before Elijah met with his God, 40 days and nights of travelling to Sinai the mountain of God, he had to trust the angel that God sent, he had to venture on in faith by reaching out and taking those things that offered him life.

In the gospel reading,

Jesus said. I am the bread of life. Those who come to me will never be hungry'

Christ offers us life but it is not forced on to us. It is a gift to be accepted and received.

But we may all at some point in our lives have moments of utter despair, when we reach the end of ourselves when life feels not worth living, when it is impossible for us to accept the ministry of angels and when we cannot reach out and accept the bread of life offered to us by Christ.

We may feel unable to pray, unable to come to a church service, unable to raise our hearts in hope.

At our Baptism, we are claimed by Christ as one of his own and no matter how we feel, this remains true. We have been given the bread of life in Christ and as the gospel reading says If anyone eats this bread, he will live for ever.

This is the promise of Christ to us, that His life in us is eternal and cannot be defeated even by death.

We need to remember too that Christ reminds us that the bread he gives is his flesh, he is to be broken so that the world might live. It is the Christ, who himself knows brokenness, who makes this promise to us.

At the centre of our faith is a God, who in Christ lets himself be broken so that his life might be shared with the world. Each time we come to a Eucharist service we break the bread, a reminder that Christ's body is broken so that we might share in His life.

I hope and pray that as you each share in the Eucharist week by week you will be given life not only for today, but that you will also receive an indwelling assurance of God's continuing life in you, so that when you are in the darkest of places, there will be a murmuring deep in your being quietly reassuring you, that you are being held in the embrace of God. The God who gives bread, the God who gives life, the God who in Christ is the bread of life.

Amen

© St Edmund's Church, Roundhay