"Faith is. . .the last of the bread: Here is what faith really is. . .When you get down to the last of the bread and still break it, not knowing if you will ever break it again, that is faith."
Preaching on Elijah and the Widow of Zarapeth (1 Kings 17:8-16), I was inspired by the above photo and caption I ran across on the website of a church in the UK. The theme "faith is. . .the last of the bread" wove its way into my sermon. I also created the following visual display, and referred to it as I retold the story to the children.
Sermon Excerpt
Faith is. . .the last of the bread
June 9, 2013
In our Scripture reading for today, Israel is in the midst
of a drought. There is no rain. People are starving and the king, Ahab is
powerless to do anything about it. The drought
is particularly embarrassing to the king’s wife, Jezebel, a worshipper of
Ba’al, the Canaanite god of rain. And
to add insult to injury the prophet Elijah has just appeared on the scene,
announcing that Yahweh, the God of Israel, is the only one who has the power to
lift the drought---not the king, and certainly not Ba’al.
After making this dramatic pronouncement, Elijah wisely hi-tails it out of there, to the desert where he must rely on a very unusual food source (he’s fed by ravens) and when even that food source runs dry, God sends Elijah to an even more peculiar location: to the home of a widow, who is herself a victim of the famine. Not only is this nameless woman one of the poorest of the poor, but she’s not even an Israelite! Like the queen Jezebel, she’s a Sidonian and most likely a worshipper of Ba’al.
In other words, God sends Elijah into enemy territory to a poor and desperate widow who is down to the last. . .down to the last bit of flour, down to the last bit of oil. She’s gathering sticks so she can prepare a small cake for herself and her son, so that as she says, “we can eat it and die.”
But Elijah says to her, “Do not be afraid. First bring me a small cake of bread and then make some for yourself and your son. The jar of flour will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not run dry.” God will provide.
I can only imagine from her perspective how crazy this must have sounded: here comes this wild looking man from the desert who has the nerve to ask her not just to feed him, but in doing so to trust that his God, YHWH, the God of Israel---a God she doesn’t even know--- will provide for her---that her store will not run dry. It doesn’t make sense, really.
And yet strangely enough, she does what Elijah asks. Not knowing for sure that she will ever eat bread again, this nameless widow takes the last of her bread, breaks it, and shares it with a complete stranger. It is an act of faith. . .
. . .Let me be clear, when I say “an act of faith,” I’m not talking about a set of beliefs or a cognitive understanding of spiritual matters.[1] The widow in our story had zero head-knowledge of Elijah’s God. The kind of faith that I am talking about is the kind that becomes most visible when our own resources have run dry; the kind of faith that senses instinctively that even when I am all tapped out, even when I have nothing left to give, there is a presence, a source of life and love that never runs dry- that I only need to draw from this deep well in order to be filled. This is faith.
Truth be told, it is often more difficult for those of us who have enough, whose pantries are full, whose lives are filled to the brim with activities and commitments, it is often more difficult for us, than for those who have little, to recognize, much less tap into the source of life that is God’s presence in us and around us.
In Biblical times, preoccupation with that which gives a person earthly power and prestige, but ultimately doesn’t have the power to save is called idolatry. King Ahab and his wife Jezebel are guilty of it, having erected so many altars to Ba’al that there’s no place left for the one true God.
After making this dramatic pronouncement, Elijah wisely hi-tails it out of there, to the desert where he must rely on a very unusual food source (he’s fed by ravens) and when even that food source runs dry, God sends Elijah to an even more peculiar location: to the home of a widow, who is herself a victim of the famine. Not only is this nameless woman one of the poorest of the poor, but she’s not even an Israelite! Like the queen Jezebel, she’s a Sidonian and most likely a worshipper of Ba’al.
In other words, God sends Elijah into enemy territory to a poor and desperate widow who is down to the last. . .down to the last bit of flour, down to the last bit of oil. She’s gathering sticks so she can prepare a small cake for herself and her son, so that as she says, “we can eat it and die.”
But Elijah says to her, “Do not be afraid. First bring me a small cake of bread and then make some for yourself and your son. The jar of flour will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not run dry.” God will provide.
I can only imagine from her perspective how crazy this must have sounded: here comes this wild looking man from the desert who has the nerve to ask her not just to feed him, but in doing so to trust that his God, YHWH, the God of Israel---a God she doesn’t even know--- will provide for her---that her store will not run dry. It doesn’t make sense, really.
And yet strangely enough, she does what Elijah asks. Not knowing for sure that she will ever eat bread again, this nameless widow takes the last of her bread, breaks it, and shares it with a complete stranger. It is an act of faith. . .
. . .Let me be clear, when I say “an act of faith,” I’m not talking about a set of beliefs or a cognitive understanding of spiritual matters.[1] The widow in our story had zero head-knowledge of Elijah’s God. The kind of faith that I am talking about is the kind that becomes most visible when our own resources have run dry; the kind of faith that senses instinctively that even when I am all tapped out, even when I have nothing left to give, there is a presence, a source of life and love that never runs dry- that I only need to draw from this deep well in order to be filled. This is faith.
Truth be told, it is often more difficult for those of us who have enough, whose pantries are full, whose lives are filled to the brim with activities and commitments, it is often more difficult for us, than for those who have little, to recognize, much less tap into the source of life that is God’s presence in us and around us.
In Biblical times, preoccupation with that which gives a person earthly power and prestige, but ultimately doesn’t have the power to save is called idolatry. King Ahab and his wife Jezebel are guilty of it, having erected so many altars to Ba’al that there’s no place left for the one true God.
Likewise, the fuller we
allow our own lives to become with the stuff that doesn’t really matter, the
easier it is for faith---that gift of spiritual nourishment that comes though
being in the presence of God--- to become one more thing we have to “make time
for.” An extra, an excess. Easily cut from the schedule. . . .
A Prayer
Holy God,
Although there are so many
among us who do have enough—and for that we give thanks, we also know that both
without and beyond this gathered community there are those who, like the widow, are down to the
last.
Down the last of their bread. . .
Down to the last of their patience.
. .Down the last of their bread. . .
Down to the last of their energy. . .
Down to the last of their compassion. . .
Down to the last of their love. . .
Send us to serve and draw us and all those in need to you, O God, our ever-present source of life and love that never runs dry. Loving God, hear our prayers. . .
More Resources
Here are two children's books that pair nicely with theme (both are about children sharing from their meager resources):
