My church is going through a lot, with several families being forced to move out of the area to find work. Some of those who have been able to stay have been anxious as they might only have one or two years left before they have to move. In a relatively small church like ours, losing several families takes a visible toll on our attendance and our giving. My pastor took a break from his series on Mark during the summer to take our church through a series of passages dealing with anxiety and depression. Several weeks ago, he preached on Elijah using 1 Kings 19:9-18 as his main text.
Most of the poetry I have written here until now has been free verse and topical. To reflect on this sermon more, I decided to write an expository poem on this text. I did not get to write last weekend because Hurricane Irene knocked out the power. That tied in well with the "wind" metaphors! :-)
I started to write this as the tempests whirled 'round me
and man-made lights flickered,
As the earthly wise were confused,
The simple stumbled from liquor
In hurricane parties with cheap draft specials,
Forced indoors as winds and rain battered roofs
But did not come strongly enough to make the buildings fall.
We witnessed a microcosm of Your destructive power.
As more rain fell with each hour,
Some thought they heard
You - in a raging breath of wind?
A storm at a distance
We give more than a glance askance,
Ready our stance
In case it happens to hit us by chance.
Some trust their persistence
Even as winds and trees cancel others' earthly existence,
They remain in resistance,
Running still against power which can outdistance.
Some wonder about subsistence
As they shutter their businesses at city officials' insistence,
Can't get bread for the day,
Maybe have to leave their low ground for the brae
As the storm does ballet
In violent style that cameras capture and replay.
Elijah went to a cave and stayed there,
Not for a storm, but a queen wanted to grab him by the hair ,
Trap him in a snare and kill with flair,
For the message he declared:
"The true God with no compare,
Maker of Altair,
Can tell that your cries to Baal are stopping in midair.
You told me, 'We're with Baal! Beware!'
Now complete this questionnaire:
Is your god off, solitaire,
Playing golf with billionaires,
Perhaps in the restroom getting debonair,
Or sleeping in the square,
So unconscious, he just got trampled by a hare?
Or he thinks it's funny like Moliere
That you think he'll answer you when you put your forms in disrepair?"
And after this victory,
Slaying four hundred fifty with a holy jealousy,
His inquiry - The mystery: misery, injury inwardly and spiritually:
Why react bitterly? Why treat it like trickery that life did not become glittery?
Then came the theophany:
Elijah cringed as the wind broke rocks in pieces
And he had no shelter from the tempest's reaches,
Stayed outside as his beard flew in front of him
As the wind challenged its anchors in his face,
Still grim - his tears moved more as he stood on the mount,
Sustained by grace in God's blessing fount,
But in that day he only knew law,
Following it to the letter,
A sacrifice required if he was ever its debtor.
His cold heart had yet to thaw
As he thought as hard as he could in what he saw,
"You, in mighty rushing wind?"
He didn't know the next was caused by plate tectonics
As soon as the jarring of the plates' harmonics
God only did it for histrionics
To show His power greater than electronics.
Soon after God called him from his self-imposed detention,
The earth shook strongly to get Elijah's attention,
To make him consider more than three dimensions.
What did that do to his comprehension -
"You, in shaking of the plates?
Is it fate that I wait and You don't change my state?
Did I misstate? My lightweight
Pleas for You to take me home looked strong enough to me.
But I don't see You here as fear
Envelopes me."
The familiar fire that exposed false prophets as sophomores
Performed encores.
He saw the dancing of phosphors
And probably dreaded this deja vu -
"Why don't You undo
All that happened there in lieu
Of an easy life for me, that I could waste and then rest with my fathers,
Without this tyrant Ahab breathing down my neck
And his wife wanting to separate my neck
From my head, and then feed me to her dog?
'Rare prophets of God, a shekel per pound at the pet store -
Your dogs will find it tasty, and you will be so delighted!'
Victor now victim,
I feel common as gypsum,
Courage softer than talcum,
Heart harder than diamond - I wanted my kingdom
Without any schism."
Then, the Designer of Theorems
Could say, "Wandering pilgrim,
See through My prism since My wisdom is winsome
To the true man of God who does not care about income."
Yet fire burned - to bonfire from a spark,
God certified that fire was not His mark
Nor any demonstrated havoc stark,
"You, in the fire that lights the dark?!"
"No, simple man with many limitations.
Hark - to the Ruler of all nations,
Including yours - Who ordained this ruthless ruler over you
And arranged each last detail hitherto."
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