“Silent witnesses: a cave”
I Kings 19:9
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
The year was 1860, and the crowd roared in Decatur, Illinois, as their candidate, Abraham Lincoln, took center stage. Men threw hats and canes into the air, shaking the hall so much that the awning over the stage collapsed. As one observer wrote, “The roof was literally cheered off the building.”
And why not? Fifty-one year-old Lincoln was at the peak of his political career, a career that would sweep him not only to his party’s nomination, but on to the White House.
But as he stood before the convention floor that day, he didn’t seem happy or triumphant at all. Quite the opposite. One who was there said, “I then thought him to be one of the most hesitant, insecure, and troubled men I’ve ever seen.”
The following day, as the convention closed and the crowds went home, all that was left was the smell of sweat and cigars. And as the lieutenant governor of Illinois walked through the convention hall one last time, he was surprised to find Lincoln sitting alone at the end of the hall, his head bowed, his gangly arms bent at the elbows, his hands pressed against his face. When Lincoln saw him, he said, “I’m not very well.”
That’s a side of Lincoln we don’t often see, but it was familiar to all those who knew him. Historians tell us that Lincoln often wept in public, and told jokes at strange times. He needed the laughs, he said, to survive. As a young man, he talked more than once of suicide. As he grew older, he felt the world was hard and grim. A partner in his law office, William Herndon, once said, “Lincoln’s depression dripped from him as he walked.”
In January of 1841, Lincoln himself wrote, “I am the most miserable man living. If what I feel were equally distributed to the whole human family, there would not be one cheerful face on the earth. Whether I shall ever be better, I cannot tell; I awfully forebode I shall not.” And he said, “To remain as I am is impossible; I must either get better or die.”
And he wasn’t alone. Charles Spurgeon, a pastor who served a church in London in the late 1800s, is said to be one of the greatest preachers since the apostle Paul. But he struggled with depression. He suffered from feelings of worthlessness and despair, and often left his pulpit to spend time in France, where he would stay for two to three months at a time. In 1866, he stunned his congregation of five thousand when he said, “I am the subject of depressions of spirit so fearful that I hope none of you ever get to such extremes of wretchedness as I go through.”
Winston Churchill said, “Depression followed me around like a black dog all of my life.” And even Martin Luther once said, “For more than a week, I was close to the gates of death and hell. I trembled in all of my members. Christ was wholly lost. I was shaken by desperation and blasphemy.”
So it was in the words of our text, I Kings chapter 19. I’ll begin at verse 1: “Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, ‘So may the gods do to me and more also, if I do not make your life as the life of one of them by this time tomorrow.’ Then he was afraid, and he arose and ran for his life and came to Beersheba, which belongs to Judah, and left his servant there” (I Kings 19:1-3).
If you’re burned out, this text is for you. If you’re living a life of anxiety and worry, this text is for you. If you’re experiencing isolation or separation, fear or uncertainty, or if you feel God is far from you, this text is for you.
So what’s going on?
If you know the story, then you know that, just one chapter before, in I Kings chapter 18, Elijah challenged the prophets of Baal. He said to the people on the top of Mount Carmel, “How long will you go limping between two different opinions? If the Lord is God, follow Him; but if Baal, then follow him.”
Then he set up a test. He said, “Let two bulls be given to us, and let them choose one bull for themselves and cut it in pieces and lay it on the wood, but put no fire to it. And I will prepare the other bull and lay it on the wood and put no fire to it...and the God who answers by fire, He is God.”
And just as Elijah said, Baal’s prophets took a bull, cut it up, and laid it on their altar of sacrifice. Then from morning till noon, they cried out, saying, “O Baal, answer us!” But when there was still no fire, they sang and danced and cut themselves with knives and swords. Still no sound, and no fire from heaven.
So Elijah prepared his sacrifice and laid it on his altar. Then he prayed: “O Lord, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, let it be known this day that You are God in Israel and that I am Your servant.” And just as soon as he prayed his prayer, fire fell from heaven, and consumed the sacrifice, and even licked up the water that was in the trench.
Then he said, “Seize the prophets of Baal. Don’t let even one of them escape.”
Now you’d think that the very next verse would read, “And Elijah rejoiced in the Lord his God. He made a sacrifice of thanksgiving and preached the word of the Lord.”
But that’s not what happened at all, for when Queen Jezebel heard what he had done, she said, “By this time tomorrow, O man of God, you’ll be dead.”
So Elijah ran for his life, hundreds of miles away, as far as he could go. He said, “I’ve had it, Lord. I can’t take it anymore, Lord. Take my life, for I’m no better than anyone who’s come before me.”
Sound familiar? It should. It’s a prayer that Moses prayed, and a prayer that the prophet Jonah prayed. “Take my life, Lord. I’m not good for anyone or anything anymore.”
Chapter 19, verse 9: “There he came to a cave and lodged in it. And behold, the word of the Lord came to him, and he said to him, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’”
Funny, isn’t it? Have you ever noticed that, in Scripture, God asks questions for which He already knows the answers? He asked Adam, “Adam, where are you?” even though He knew full well where he was. He asked Cain, “Where is your brother, Abel?” even though He knew full well he was dead. He asked Moses, “What do you have in your hand?” though he knew it was a staff. Now here He asks Elijah, “Elijah, what are you doing here?”
It’s a good question. I mean, after all, isn’t this the same prophet that stopped the rain from falling for three-and-a-half years, whom ravens fed by a brook, who raised a little boy from the dead, and who caused a widow’s oil and flour to never run out? Isn’t this the same man that called down fire from heaven to consume his sacrifice? “Elijah, what are you doing here?”
Yet what did God do? He met him right where he was, to give him the encouragement he so desperately needed to carry on.
As one author put it, “Even in discouragement, God meets us where we are, whether we have unwillingly and unwittingly landed on the heap of the rubbish and wreckage of life, or we are hiding in a cave, away from what we perceive to be an inhumane humanity. And He knows whether we need the whirlwind or the soft breeze to get us back on His track. God knows that we damage our compass of life now and then with the heat of our passions and the cold of our indifference. He knows we need to regain the sense of ‘mission and submission.’”
Then He gave him this charge. Verse 15: “Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus. And when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael to be king over Syria. And Jehu the son of Nimshi you shall anoint to be king over Israel, and Elisha the son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah you shall anoint to be prophet in your place...Yet I will leave seven thousand in Israel, all the knees that have not bowed to Baal, and every mouth that has not kissed him.”
To put it another way, Elijah, go and do the work I’ve called you to do, and know that you’re never alone.
In so many ways, Elijah’s problem is most certainly our problem too. In fact, according to our own National Institutes of Health, depression is one of the world’s most debilitating conditions, second only to heart disease. It’s a condition that affects not only quality of life and our ability to function, but also our physical health, driving many to suicide. In the United States alone, it affects more than twenty-three million Americans, and costs more than $65 billion a year!
What is depression? It’s feelings of guilt, anxiety, and worthlessness. It’s trouble sleeping or sleeping too much. It’s fatigue and loss of energy. It’s an overwhelming sense of hopelessness and despair.
And the reasons are many. There’s stress, illness, loss of a job, loss of a loved one, change in health, change in life circumstance, and low self-esteem.
And it affects almost everyone, from men to women, black to white, youth to elderly, single to married, and rich to poor.
So what do we do? How can we find the strength we need to carry on?
Don’t bury it. Don’t fake it. Don’t try to hide it behind something else. Instead, bring it to the only One who can make any difference at all. Bring it to the Lord. Pour it out, loud or soft. That’s what it says in Psalm 34: “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” And that’s what Jesus said in Matthew 11: “Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart.”
William Cowper was born in 1731, not far from London, in a little town of some 1500 people. His mother died when he was six, so his father sent him off to a boarding school. He studied law, but never took it seriously.
When he was twenty-one, he sank into his first paralyzing depression, the first of four complete mental breakdowns, a despair that would become a theme throughout his life. He wrote to a friend, “My life is loaded with despair.” To another, he wrote, “I feel unutterable despair.”
Yet somehow, by the grace of God, he wrote in the words of a hymn: “God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants His footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm. Blind unbelief is sure to err and scan His work in vain; God is His own interpreter, and He will make it plain.”
Before we leave this text, there is one more thing to mention. You know, when Elijah was in such deep despair, he didn’t go to just any mountain or any cave. There were, after all, literally hundreds of them all around. He could have picked any one.
Instead, he chose to go to a place called Mount Horeb. Where’s that? You know it by its other name--Mount Sinai. It’s where God once called Moses into ministry, where He appeared to him in a burning bush, where He gave His Ten Commandments, and where He once showed him His glory.
And where can we find hope? Not just in any place. But in a place called Mount Calvary, the place of the cross.
Sometimes, dear Father, all things seem against us and drive us to despair. Help us in those times and in every way, to find our hope, peace, and strength in You, for Jesus’ sake. Amen