Action Words: 2019

To the reader:

I have come to the end of my days at last. I know not for certain when I shall fall into the long sleep, but I know the occasion is closer than it has ever been. I have spent these past few days lying in bed and pondering out the nearest window. YahWeh has been gracious to reveal many things to me in this life, but one thing I have pondered much of my days has—I think—been revealed to me by YahWeh at last.

The occasion of which I have been pondering is not from my own experience, though I will write of it as though it was. For I knew the one who experienced it as David knew Jonathan. It is nevertheless my aim to keep the story as preserved as is possible while still maintaining the facets I hope to convey.

It is with the latter things in mind that I hope the reader will approach the story.

I will leave the revelation to YahWeh.

- Elisha

I was weary and tormented. It was several days after the happenings at Mount Carmel; where YahWeh showed His power to the people of Israel. Though the prophets of Ba’al—who encourage and demand the sacrifice of infants—had been disproven and slaughtered, not all were rejoicing.

I was at the gates of Jezreel when I received word from Jezebel, the Queen. All within me longed to hear that she, the king, and all of their house had rebuked Ba’al and fallen in worship to YahWeh. It was not so.

“May the gods punish me and do so severely if I don’t make your life like the life of one of them by this time tomorrow!”

This was the word from Jezebel. She was speaking of the four hundred and fifty prophets of Ba’al whom I had ordered be slain at the Wadi Kishon just days before. Her words bred terror in my veins.

Never has a man lived that was more cruel and terrifying than the Queen Jezebel. I had many brethren who were cut down at her command. From this, I knew her words were not given in vain, so I ran. I know not why the power of YahWeh at Mount Carmel was so quickly forgotten in my mind, but it was. I ran for several days; not stopping for food or drink.

My servant accompanied me, but even he at last grew too weary to carry on; so I left him at Beersheba and persisted: so great was the fear of Jezebel in my being. One morning I wandered off the road—hoping to lose any pursuers that I was certain would be close behind. I walked aimlessly through the wilderness that day. Always I sought to keep my path straight so as not to suddenly end up walking towards my enemies. But when food and drink have left the body and the sun is hot and fear is strong, one’s sense of direction is quickly lost.

It was during this time that I began to wonder at how any of this had come to pass. YahWeh had shown his power at Carmel. Ba’al was routed. Israel was on its knees before Adonai. I saw no better course of action than to do to the prophets of Ba’al what they coerced Jezebel to do to my brothers. Was it not the justice of YahWeh? Should not the king and queen of Israel have seen their wrongdoing and repented?

Perhaps it was the heat of the day and the hunger in my bones, but I was no longer certain.

This uncertainty was the final blow to my resolve. I lay down under a broom tree and prayed for death. Had death been granted, it would not have been so miraculous, considering. At some point I fell asleep.

I was awakened by a most unpleasant start. A light brighter than that of the sun was piercing my eyelids. Something not unlike a human hand touched my shoulder and a deep, ringing voice—I call it a voice, though voices come from somewhere distinct. This sound came from all around, including, it seemed, from within myself—commanded me to get up and eat.

I looked first to see if I could find the one who had awoken me, but I saw none: The brilliant light and ringing voice vanished as quickly as they had appeared. Instead, I found a few feet away a loaf of warm, fresh bread and a jug of water. This was the first time since hearing Jezebel’s message that I thought of hunger. So I ate, and the effort of eating was so exhausting that soon I was asleep again. Again the light, hand, and voice came to me, commanding me to eat.

This time the effort of eating was not exhausting, and in fact I finished the meal feeling incredibly invigorated. It occurred to me at this point that I knew not how long I had been sleeping, and that Jezebel’s men could have gained significant ground on account of my tarrying.

So I arose and walked for 40 days and 40 nights to the mountain Horeb, where YahWeh first appeared to our father, Moses. This may seem strange to the reader, and indeed it is strange to me now to think back upon it, but during those 40 days and nights I took no more food than what was given me under the broom tree. It was not for lack of availability: I passed many an edible plant. Rather, it was for lack of hunger. Because of this, I thought nothing at all of not eating. The reader again may find this strange, but think back to the days of one’s childhood: when did we think of hunger but when we were offered food?

Nonetheless, I remained in great turmoil during this long walk. For though I thought nothing of food, I thought much of everything else. I wondered at the prospect of being cut into pieces by Jezebel. I wondered at the might of YahWeh displayed at Mount Carmel, and I wondered at the people of Israel. Their hearts were swayed by the terrifying rule of Jezebel when she slaughtered my brethren, and their hearts were swayed again when YahWeh sent fire from heaven. Would they be swayed when another came to demand their attentions? Was YahWeh so different to them from Jezebel? Was His power not even more terrifying?

It shames me to say that I resented Israel for much of that journey. My anger for her grew with each step, and my contempt inflated with each breath.

When at last I arrived at Horeb, I entered a cave and spent the night.

Again a deep, ringing voice woke me from my sleep. This time there was no dazzling, penetrating light.

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

Believing I held an audience with one from the heavens, I withheld nothing in my reply.

“I have been very zealous for the Lord God of Hosts, but the Israelites have abandoned your covenant, torn down Your altars, and killed Your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are looking for me to take my life.”

It is worth noting here the vanity and blindness of contempt. I knew of 100 other prophets of YahWeh who were kept hidden and safe from Jezebel by our dear brother Obadiah. In my anger and pain, they were blotted from my mind.

“Go out and stand on the mountain in the Lord’s presence.” The voice replied.

Had I been of sound mind, this command would have brought great trembling over my being. None have seen the face of YahWeh and lived. As it was, I remained determined to plead my case and thought nothing of it. I was making ready to get on my feet when a terrible wind tore across the face of the mountain. It knocked me to the ground and ripped great pieces of rock from Horeb’s cliffs. The falling rocks shook the earth so that I thought for certain the cave would collapse upon my head.

Then, like the day on Mount Carmel, fire rained from heaven. The noise and heat and movement of the three events was so tumultuous and sudden that I believed it would never end. Indeed it felt like an eternity until it was over, at which point it seemed only a moment. When it was finished, I lay stunned on the floor of the cave. For a brief period the only sound was that of my breath.

The silence was broken by a soft, gentle whisper. Would that I could tell you what that whisper said, but as soon as I heard it, it escaped me. All I can recall is immediately rising to my feet and moving to the entrance of the cave. Here the voice that woke me came again.

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

My anger burned like the fire that had fallen from heaven. Were the angels of the Lord not listening? Was His council no different than that of man? I gave my reply through gritted teeth:

“I have been very zealous for the Lord God of Hosts. But the Israelites have abandoned Your covenant, torn down Your altars, and killed Your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they’re looking for me to take my life.”

The voice replied by telling me to return by the way I had come, and gave instructions on what to do when I arrived there.

The instructions and what became of them can be read about in the 1^st book of Kings at the end of the 19^th chapter. They are not the reason for which I tell this story.

My rage upon realizing my complaint would not be heard by YahWeh was so great that I could do naught but stand in silence. Did Adonai have no compassion? Would the Lord not hear my suffering? I ALONE was left! There were none in Israel who would stand for YahWeh! Not like I would! They had turned from Ba’al at the sight of the Lord’s power on Carmel yesterday, but they would turn to some other god tomorrow! The children of Abraham were like waves in an ocean or wheat in a field! Only I—Elijah the Tishbite—was righteous and steadfast enough to remain faithful to the Lord of Hosts! I ALONE!!

I had been standing and trembling angrily so long that the moon replaced the sun in the sky. Somewhere in the passage of time while I stood at the mouth of the cave of Horeb, a stillness came over me. Within that stillness, I again heard a whisper. Perhaps it was the same soft, gentle whisper I had heard in the cave hours before. Perhaps not. Who can discern the ways of the Almighty?

Whichever it was, these words I remember with clarity, for I had heard them twice before in the deep, ringing voice.

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

The Lord is great. His wisdom is boundless and everlasting. At last, the Almighty’s question had worked to examine my soul.

When my heart was weakened and grieved with the loss of my brothers at the hands of Jezebel