Unexpected testing

In my last post I looked at the remarkable sources of God’s provision for the prophet Elijah: God mobilizes scavengers, multiplies the assets of the poor and enables the marginalized to contribute. In doing so, God challenges the assumptions and mental blocks of the privileged and presumptive sources of provision—people like me. In fact, the story is told in a way I can identify with, because its focus is Elijah.

However, even as God is working his purposes in Elijah’s life, he’s also working in the widow’s life. He yearns for her to know him, and he’s using Elijah to bring about his purposes for her. The widow’s version of this story might read a lot differently, but there’s not much detail on which to build that retelling. So we try to read into the woman’s actions and the small handful of words captured in this story.

For instance, I would like to know if, when she enters the scene, she already has a spark of faith. Did God reveal in some way, prior to her meeting Elijah, his plan and calling to her? Even as she has lived on the edges of Israel’s border, has she been seeking Israel’s God? I also wonder how this widow responds to God’s daily miracle. 

In the previous act of this story (1 Ki 17:8-16), this widow took a leap of faith to trust the man of God. In this final act (1 Ki 17:17-24), she faces a crisis of faith. Just as things are starting to look hopeful, her son dies, and this setback seems to confirm her worst fears: that this God is just like all the others.9 For most people in her situation, there is no rags to riches outcome. She may even have been bracing for bad news because it figures, after the series of misfortunes she has experienced. Her words reveal her resentments and core beliefs: she asks Elijah what he has against her, but she’s really asking what God has against her. This loss might not be as painful if her heart hadn’t opened a bit.

It’s interesting that she raises the issue of sin (v18). Romans 5:13 tells us that “sin is not charged against anyone’s account where there is no law” (see also Rom 5:15); therefore, she’s not under the Hebrew Law. However, she understands in some way that she has missed the mark; she’s not in right standing with God. 

In that comment, she reveals that she understands sin has a price. But she also reveals that she was expecting grace, the primary characteristic of Yahweh she has personally experienced so far. In her pain and anger, she reveals a level of conviction and a fragile faith. 

Digging further, history tells us that worship of Baal sometimes required child sacrifice. Now the God of Israel seems to have taken her son. So again, is this God any different? It’s an enormous test of her faith, beyond what many fledgling believers could withstand. 

In fact, this is where Western believers sometimes get tripped up in their faith. Why would God allow this kind of trial when the woman’s faith is so fragile? It’s appalling to read stories like Jesus confronting the rich, young ruler and then watching him walk away (Matt 19:16-22) or offending his followers and chasing away those who weren’t serious (John 6:60-66). Why wouldn’t the God who doesn’t snuff out a smouldering wick or break a bent reed (Is 42:3) shelter this widow’s simple expression of faith until it’s strong enough to withstand a storm? What if her faith breaks? 

Elijah’s response suggests he has the same mindset; he even seems to be having his own crisis of faith. He doesn’t speak to the woman at all: no compassion expressed for her loss, but instead, a brusque, “Give me your son” and a march up the stairs to his room. His prayer reads to me as rather accusatory: God, did you bring tragedy on her? Did you kill the boy? Perhaps he expected his presence in her home to have brought her some kind of covering rather than make her life worse.

The passage says God listens—even to sullen, angry prayers like Elijah’s. Yet, for Elijah, the son’s resurrection was probably more of a relief than a moment of great joy. Maybe the woman’s faith will survive this crisis now.

Don’t miss the amazing faith in Elijah’s prayer; he asks God for something no one had ever dared to dream of before. Up until this moment, death was always the end. We get used to the New Testament stories, but this was the first recorded resurrection in the Bible.

Take a minute to read one of them: Luke 7:11-17. Jesus is traveling in Galilee when he encounters a funeral procession. The only son of a widow has passed away. Jesus raises the young man to life, then gives him to his mother. In this parallel story I see two insights into the Zarephath story.

First, Jesus responds with compassion and cares for the widow before addressing death. The contrast to Elijah’s bedside manner exposes where his response was lacking. Perhaps the difference is simply one of character and personality: Elijah was full of faith, but he was also a flawed individual who was prone to emotional ups and downs. But it also reveals power and knowledge: Jesus knew how the story would end, because even then he had authority over death, while Elijah was pleading for the impossible.

Second, we see the response of the witnesses: fear seizes them and they glorify God. They conclude two things: Jesus is a great prophet, and God has visited his people. The Sidonian widow concludes the same thing about Elijah and God:

  • She says, “Now I know.” She has experienced it herself.
  • She recognizes Elijah as a prophet—his words are truth, and in his mouth are the words of Yahweh.
  • When she identifies Elijah as a man of God, she refers to God as Elohim—the supreme God, the God of gods, the God over Baal.
  • The deeper message is a profession of her belief in God. She no longer refers to Yahweh as Elijah’s God, as she had in v12. God has visited her.

In God’s miraculous resurrection of her son, she encounters even greater power and even greater grace than she has been experiencing on a daily basis.

So why does God give her such an extreme test? I believe he knows that her faith can’t stay in its current condition. Elijah will soon be leaving, and she needs to be able to stand on her own feet. It is time for her to reach a decision about whether she and her household will believe, and serve the Lord (Josh 24:15).

I started this series researching to see how non-Westerners read this chapter. The North American approach would likely be to coddle such fragile faith by protecting the seedling, growing it carefully and guarding it from any real test in the early years. Many in the East and the South would say that’s unrealistic and point out that too much water or protection of a plant leads to shallow roots. Years later, when the plant is growing and should be mature, it is actually still fragile because of its roots. They would expect sacrifice, suffering and danger to come for a new believer, and rapid root growth is necessary for resilience.

We don’t know what happens with this woman after this. But her story can’t be looked at in isolation. Her line will now continue, and when seeds of faith are planted, you never know when they might pop back up again. We’ll look at that in our final post in the series.


References (intentionally seeking non-Western views)

9. Tse, Justin. “Elijah.” (Hong Kong) A Sermon for Revised Common Lectionary, Year C, Proper 5. Patheos. 27 July 2016. https://www.patheos.com/blogs/ecperson/2013/06/10/preaching-elijah/


Elijah series:

Courage!

She grabbed me and made sure I was looking into her eyes. “Coo-rajh!” she told me. It was the early days of my time as president of an organization, and this staff member who had spent many years in Francophone Africa had a clear message for me, which sounds much cooler in French but reads bilingually: “Courage!”

Eleven years later, at my final staff meeting as president, the board presented me with this print from Indigenous artist, Leissa MacDonald. In the artist statement, MacDonald says,

The Bear is a symbol of courage, bravery is taught to us by the bear. Bears are known to confront threats they should be fearful of, they protect their cubs against larger bears and other dangers. The bear also reminds us to be playful and to rest when needed. It is in the balance of these teachings that we are taught how to be courageous.

I’m not sure the board could have given me a greater gift than affirming that I had led with courage. Let’s unpack a few elements in this description and how I sought to apply them.

1. Confront threats (they should be fearful of)

I always reject any suggestion that there is such thing as a “fearless leader.” While I was president, when we would get ready to embark on a new initiative with significant risk, I would lose sleep. I’d be afraid it wouldn’t work. I’d be afraid for those who would be hurt or feel marginalized by the change or who wouldn’t have roles after the change went through. We all have fears.

But my driver on any change was the anticipation of threats. The status quo is a place of safety… for a while. But it eventually becomes a liability and will lead to major issues. I always try to look down the line to see the dangers coming, and address issues early. Threats that seem small today tend to grow. Rather than facing a huge bear in the future, it’s better to face the bear earlier at its current size. Of course, it also occasionally means challenging a huge bear and taking on an issue that cannot be ignored.

What makes this approach particularly difficult is that it’s a prophetic role. The leader looks like a provocateur, stirring up issues that no one else feels are important. People pleasers and procrastinators will always struggle with this role of a leader. When I began serving as president and looked at the long list of issues I inherited, I made a personal promise that I would not hand these challenges off to my successor, but I would address them. I did shorten the list considerably, but I still grieve the ones I wasn’t able to resolve and the new ones that arose (some I likely caused) that I had to leave for my successor.

2. Protect your cubs

In 2 Corinthians 11, Paul lays out a long list of tragedies he’s faced for the sake of the gospel: beatings, shipwrecks, floggings, etc. Then in verses 28-29, he adds,

Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches. Who is weak, and I do not feel weak? Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn?

Part of the role of leadership is to carry deep concern for those you lead. It’s a daily pressure. This includes some who are struggling with change, some who are weak, some dealing with mental health issues, and some who are led into sin. Losses feel very personal. We feel every blow.

So the job of the leader is to to be a mama bear, where no one wants to get between you and your cubs. In The Contrarian’s Guide to Leadership, Dr. Stephen Sample has a rule: No complaining about your team. If a leader delegates something to a team member, she has two choices: support them or fire them. The leader does not get to complain about someone on her team who’s underperforming. If the results aren’t there, the primary strategy available to her is to invest in the person and help get to the bottom of why the staff member is not accomplishing the job that was delegated. Her only other option is to change the delegation, handing the job to someone else.

Protecting your cubs does not mean you don’t have to make courageous personnel decisions. I appreciate another of Dr. Sample’s rules: Shoot your own horse. If a rancher has a sick or hurting pig, cow or sheep, he can get a neighbour to help him put the animal out of its misery. But not a horse. As a rancher’s closest companion and most trustworthy partner in accomplishing his work, if a man needs to put his horse down, he has to look the animal in the eye and do it himself. Sample concludes that a leader must show sufficient respect and courage to fire his own deputies rather than delegate that job. I would add that he should do everything he can to show generosity, care and provision as he does it. In some cases, I’ve been able to eventually turn a former staff person into an ally and advocate even though I inflicted the pain of termination.

Letting a staff member go can be a means of protecting your cubs. I remember a time when I had to let a longtime staff member go, one who had been fighting accountability at every turn. The next day I saw the staff member who had been providing that accountability. Her countenance seemed different. I swear she had a bounce in her step. Remember that you never want to lose good staff because you didn’t address poor-performing staff quickly enough.

3. Play and rest

At first, Leissa MacDonald’s comment about play and rest feels like an incongruity. What is the connection to courage?

It takes courage and faith to step away to take a vacation, a weekend or a good night’s sleep, because it’s an act of releasing control. There’s a story that during the long, exhausting hours of the Second Vatican Council, Pope John XXIII announced one night, “God, it’s your Church. I’m going to bed.” Turning over the keys is primarily a declaration that God is in charge, not us. G.K. Chesterton comments:

The greatest act of faith that a man can perform is the act that we perform every night. We abandon our identity, we turn our soul and body into chaos and old night. We uncreate ourselves as if at the end of the world: for all practical purposes we become dead men, in the sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection. After that it is in vain for us to call ourselves pessimists when we have this trust in the laws of nature, when we let them keep an armed and omnipotent watch over our cradle. It is in vain for us to say that we think the ultimate power evil when every twelve hours or so we give our soul and body back to God without security. This is the essential sanctity of sleep… (Chesterton, Lunacy and Letters)

Taking time for rest reflects a deep faith in God’s ability to carry your load or manage the organization you steward.

For a leader, there’s never really a good time to step away for rest and play, but it is critical. Reed Hastings has been asked many times to explain the 2-word vacation policy he rolled out at Netflix: “Take some.” Hastings points out that in many young companies, the real issue is that no one uses their vacation days. It’s true for many non-profits as well. Staff work long hours and struggle to step away, especially if the culture or their leader subtly celebrates workaholism. So in 2003, Hastings removed the upper cap on vacation days and began to model vacation-taking. He forced himself to take month-long trips and then told everyone he could what a great time he had. The company survived without him, and often he came back with fresh ideas. It took courage to step away for that long when leading such a huge and growing company. It took even greater courage to trust his staff and remove the constraints.

Let me also add an affirmation for all those who aren’t first-chair leaders. Having recently transitioned back into a second-chair role, I’ve observed that at times there is a peace in knowing that the buck stops with someone else. But it also requires faith and the courage to follow when decisions were made and you weren’t in the room. It’s that same sense of trust that allows a leader to rest and play.

Conclusion

The question for leaders is whether we have the faith to push past our fears and the setbacks and challenges that come our way. My observation is that you don’t necessarily start out with the courage you will need. At the beginning, the threats and challenges look enormous. It’s in the practice of leadership, from the earliest attempts all the way to the first chair (and back down again), where the muscles get developed. It’s a daily practice. Staying in the game, choosing again today to lead rather than be passive, that’s what teaches us to be courageous.


Another of my favorite blog posts on courage can be found here: Courage and Leadership