Immediate Word

It is a depressing world out there. You pick up a paper or turn on the evening news and encounter death, disaster, pain, misery, despair. Whether the stories are of the wars in Iraq or Afghanistan, outsourcing of jobs overseas, daily obituary notices or those private, personal stories that never come to public attention, life can be a burden. With this Sunday being celebrated as Father's Day in the United States, one can become equally dispirited simply at the challenges of raising children in this day and age. It's a tough world out there -- in a word, depressing.

Several of our pericopes this week lend themselves to dealing with this pervasive phenomenon. The Psalter selection (scholars say that the two psalms should be taken together because of their similar themes) reflects the lament of an individual who is cut off from the Temple (see the commentary by J. Clinton McCann, Jr. in the New Interpreters Bible [Nashville: Abingdon, 2000]). The opening verses describe the poet's need for God using the image of thirst. The psalmist's soul "thirsts for God," which is more than simply a desire because, as we well know, we do not live without water. For the psalmist, God is a necessity of life, and, at the moment, God is apparently unavailable. Ever felt that way? Safe to say that most of the folks in our pews from week to week have. The grief is exacerbated by the taunts of "Where is your God?" which, in the psalm comes from external sources, but in our lives is a question that may well have passed from our own lips. In the midst of death, disaster, pain, misery, despair, where is our God?

But then, from the depths of our soul, we feel something well up, and the rhetorical question, "Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me?" is answered: "Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God." Three times in these few verses, the question and answer are repeated. Despair and hope coexist. They did in Jesus; he echoed the refrain of Psalms 42 and 43 in his prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane (Matthew 26:38; John 12:27). The message is simple enough: even though the day's news may be depressing, the day's news is not the end of the story.

McCann notes that Psalm 42 and 43 are a reminder of the opening paragraph of Augustine's Confessions: "The thought of [God] stirs [the human being] so deeply that he cannot be content unless he praises you, because you made us for yourself and our hearts find no peace until they rest in you." The imagery was used by early Christians as symbols for baptism: "The hart [or deer] ... was the emblem of those thirsting souls who, in the cooling streams of the baptismal font, drank deeply of the fountain of eternal life." Psalm 42 was sung when Augustine was baptized on Easter Sunday 387 C.E. We recall Luther's response to adversity: "Remember, you have been baptized."

The subject of baptism lends itself well to the Galatians pericope. Saint Paul writes of Christians being "Abraham's offspring, heirs according to promise" (3:29). In other words, the covenant that God made with Abraham in Genesis, which put the quintessential man of faith into a special family relationship with Yahweh, is still valid, something we celebrate each time we sprinkle, pour, or dip into the waters of baptism.

The lection begins with the apostle's defense of the Law. While the King James Version of scripture, in which so many of us were nurtured, calls the Law the "schoolmaster" that guides us to Christ, contemporary scholarship is more comfortable translating the Greek paidagogos differently. "The term, despite the English cognate 'pedagogue,' does not mean 'teacher.' The paidagogos (lit., 'child-leader') was a slave in the Greco-Roman household who supervised and guarded children. His responsibility was to walk them to and from school, to see that they behaved properly and stayed out of harm's way. The paidagogos, however, was not a member of the family, and when the child grew to a certain age, his services were no longer required. The Law was like that for Israel, Paul proposes. It had a certain necessary role in confining, guarding, and disciplining God's people during the interval between Moses and Christ, but that interval has now come to an end (v. 25). This metaphor allows Paul to affirm that the Law once had a constructive role to play in God's overall plan, while at the same time insisting that its role is now at an end" (See Richard Hays, The Letter to the Galatians, New Interpreter's Bible).

It is our faith that demonstrates the continuing family relationship, and Paul is quick to point out the wide swath of "family" -- no more national or ethnic or gender considerations, not even seemingly unbreachable social walls such as slavery. This is a new understanding of who it is that constitute the people of God, an amazing family of which we are a part (and perhaps preachable for those who wish to pursue the Father's Day theme).

The Gospel lection is the story of the healing of the Gerasene demoniac and, as Brian Stoffregen points out, "although both Mark (5:1-20) and Matthew (8:28-34) have parallels to this text, they are not assigned in the Revised Common Lectionary. So this is the one shot the lectionary preacher has of saying, 'This is the first reported case of deviled ham.' " The story is the mid-point in a trilogy that demonstrates Jesus' power -- power over the elements of nature, wind, and waves (8:22-25); power over the supernatural, the unclean spirits (8:26-39); power over disease and death (8:40-56).

The setting of the story has been under scholarly debate for years, but suffice it to say that this is Jesus' first mission to predominantly Gentile territory, a note of special import if the sermon will also deal with the text from Galatians. The demoniac is presented as being less than human -- wearing no clothes, living in the tombs, driven into the wilderness. At the end of the story, he is humanized: wearing clothes, being in his right mind, sitting at the feet of Jesus, returning to his home. Alan Culpepper, The Gospel of Luke, New Interpreter's Bible, has an interesting reflection:

"In our day, we have become far more accustomed to attributing calamities and disorders to the forces of nature or to internal mental or emotional problems. The remedy is not exorcism but counseling or medication. The story of the Gerasene demoniac should now be interpreted so that it speaks a word of assurance and hope to those for whom every day is a battle with depression, fear, anxiety, or compulsive behavior. They will understand what would lead a person to say that his name is 'mob.' With such a response, the man had acknowledged that he no longer had any individual identity. He had lost his name. He had lost his individuality. All that was left was a boiling struggle of conflicting forces. It was as though a Roman legion was at war within him."

One wonders whether Elijah might have identified with that thinking as he struggled with depression. Considering the sad state of biblical literacy in our congregations, it would be beneficial to briefly recount the background of the story. Three years before, at the urging of the Lord, Elijah had announced a drought as punishment on the nation of Israel for its idolatry and worship of the Baals, which had been instigated by the wicked Queen Jezebel. A contest was arranged on Mount Carmel between Elijah and the prophets of Baal to determine once and for all just who was the real God of Israel. Each would build an altar for their god and then a sacrifice would be made. The god who answered by fire, consuming the sacrifice, would be the winner. All day long the prophets of Baal danced and prayed, sang and prayed, whined and prayed, all without result. Finally, at the end of the day, Elijah prayed his relatively short prayer and God answered by fire! BIG time! Yahweh wins! Elijah wins! Yes!

Now, the prophets of the Baals had been exterminated, the rains have begun again, and except for the very real threat of retribution from Jezebel, Elijah should have been feeling on top of the world. But no -- he was in a blue funk. He went out into the wilderness, away from all human contact, slumped down under a tree and said, "All right, Lord, enough is enough. I have had it with this prophet business. I have been on the front lines for you my entire life. I have been the leader of the pack in every one of your causes, on call 24/7, worked my fingers to the bone. And what do I get for it? Jezebel has a contract out on me. Why should I bother? The people will never really listen. All they care about is themselves. It has been that way for generations and will always be that way. I break my neck to do what is right, to try to get them to do what is right, but it never works. I am burned up and burned out. Like the guy in that old movie, 'I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore.' Just kill me now and get it over with. I have had it!"

Quite a speech. One might expect that the Lord would respond with something like, "There, there, boy. Chill out. It's all right. You are doing a fine job. Don't be so depressed. It will all work out in the end." But the Lord does not say that. The Lord does not say anything. Just silence.

You can picture the prophet looking around him after that emotional volcanic eruption ... the scrub brush, the tree he was leaning against, the pale blue desert sky. "Is anybody there? Does anybody care?" Finally, Elijah took that time-honored way of temporary escape -- he fell asleep.

Why should Elijah be so terribly depressed? After all, as much as anyone alive he had seen the evidence of God's power. He had watched as God provided an unending supply of food for the poor family that had offered him hospitality for three years. He had participated in God's restoration to life of a desperately ill young boy. He had been God's field commander in that great victory on Mount Carmel. One would expect that Elijah of all people would never hit bottom. But he did.

What causes such depression? If Elijah is instructive, a good part of the answer is sheer frustration. Many years ago, after a funeral for one of the most faithful leaders in my father's congregation and long before I ever went into the ministry, I asked Dad if that was the toughest thing about being a pastor -- having to bury one of the most dedicated saints of the church. He said, "No, not at all. After all, a Christian funeral is a celebration of victory. The toughest thing about being a minister," he said, "is going to a board or committee meeting, watching people act so absolutely contrary to everything you have been trying to preach and teach, and wondering whether or not you have made a nickel's worth of difference in anyone's life." Elijah probably would have said Amen.

Of course, preachers are not the only ones who have to deal with frustration and despair. People break their necks to do the best possible job and then find they are out of work because they have been "outsourced." A father and mother try to give their youngsters a proper upbringing but are now crazy with worry because their teenage son has been arrested for selling drugs. A husband sits quietly by, unable to do anything, as his wife slowly wastes away, the victim of the inexorable advance of an incurable disease. A marriage that had started with such promise of excitement years ago has now drifted into day after day of mutual boredom. A marriage that stayed wonderful through the years is now over, ended by the cold hand of death, leaving the survivor to wonder if there will ever again be any laughter in life. A list like that could go on and on. Psychology Today pointed out years ago that the average American is ten times more likely to be depressed than his father and twenty times more likely to be depressed than his grandfather. As Thoreau once wrote, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation," and these days it is worse than ever.

Is there any word from the Lord on this? There is indeed, and we can offer it as we watch what happens with Elijah. "Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him, 'Get up and eat.' He looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again." It hardly comes as a surprise that proper nutrition and rest are critical to a decent mental attitude. Overstressed, underpaid workaholics will inevitably have trouble. Elijah's body and mind were an integrated whole. His body needed to be right before his mind could be right.

Then there is another step. When Elijah woke up again, the narrative says, "He went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of God." The message here is not to overcome depression by running away from problems or even going off on an extended vacation. What is significant is Elijah's destination. Mount Horeb was the place where Moses first met God in the burning bush. It was also known as Sinai, the place where God gave the Law. For Elijah, a trip to that holy mountain was a pilgrimage to his spiritual roots, a place to rekindle memories, to recall all God had done throughout history. The mountain was a setting that would force Elijah to think about something other than himself.

More was needed, of course. The next step was conversation with the Lord -- a prayer, if you will. Elijah set up camp in a cave, and as scripture has it, "the word of the Lord came to him: 'What are you doing here, Elijah?' "

One more time, Elijah explodes. "Lord, I have done my part. I did everything I was supposed to, but I have not made a nickel's worth of difference. The people just keep on keeping on. And for all my trouble, as usual, good old Elijah is caught with his butt in a sling again -- Jezebel wants to carve me like a Christmas turkey. When you're up to your neck in alligators, it's hard to think about draining the swamp ... and, as you know, Lord, I cleaned that up. I am tired of this!" Quite a prayer.

Have you ever prayed one like that? The folks in your congregation? It is not as if God does not already know how we feel. But letting it all hang out can be therapeutic. As someone has said, "A trouble shared is a trouble cut in half." That may overstate the case, but the words of the hymn writer surely do not:

Oh, what peace we often forfeit,
Oh, what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry
Everything to God in prayer.

Then there is another step in bouncing back. God told Elijah, "'Go out and stand on the mountain before the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by. Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence." The message for those who are occasionally deeply depressed is that furious activity -- wind, earthquake, fire -- is not the answer. A time is needed for quiet reflection, to feel the Lord's presence.

To be sure, there is one more step. Simply getting back to your roots is not enough. The Lord's initial question is repeated: "What are you doing here, Elijah?" Once more the prophet makes his excuses, but this time God responds with some work for him to do.

Years ago I read about some aspiring psychiatrists who were attending their first class on emotional extremes. The professor began, "Mr. Jones, just to establish some parameters, what is the opposite of joy?"

"Sadness," said the student.

"And the opposite of depression, Ms. Smith?"

She thought a moment and said, "Elation."

"How about the opposite of woe, Mr. Brown?"

The student replied, "I believe, sir, that is GIDDYUP."

Elijah's experience says Mr. Brown is right on the button. A blue funk will never be dispelled by sitting off somewhere and feeling sorry for ourselves. Get back to the real world and get busy with your normal tasks.

One brief aside in all this. Recall Elijah's claim that "I am the only one left," the last faithful person on earth. As we are aware, God lets him know that that is not true. There are thousands more who are on the team. Two things should be noted: first, when you are deep in the pits, you rarely think straight and tend to exaggerate your predicament; and second, despite all evidence to the contrary, you do have friends out there, people who are supportive, who care, and are willing to see you through.

Elijah is not the only person in scripture who at times was depressed. It happened to Jesus. He was frustrated that even his closest disciples often misunderstood him. Standing on a hill overlooking Jerusalem one day, he broke into tears because the people would not listen. In Gethsemane his distress was so great that scripture says he sweat great drops of blood and begged for escape. The word from the Lord in all this is that deep depression occasionally happens to the very best.

The story of Elijah offers a prescription for dealing with it. Do a better job taking care of yourself physically (eating right, proper rest, exercise, etc). Do not neglect your roots -- set time aside for things that are ultimately important (quiet time for prayer, study, meditation) and for certain people who are equally important. Be on guard against the temptation to sit and feel sorry for yourself. Finally, realize that things are probably not so bleak as you had been inclined to think. And remember, you are not alone; there were and are caring and supportive friends, and especially the one scripture calls "the friend who sticks closer than a brother," our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.


Team Comments

George Murphy responds: The Bible certainly has stories about people who are "depressed" in a general sense and texts that seem to come from people in that condition. Whether or not these are evidence of clinical depression in a technical sense is perhaps not always clear: I'm wary of attempts to psychoanalyze people of the past on the basis of often rather sketchy textual evidence. But technical definitions of depression may not be what are of most importance for preaching on this theme.

If we can be permitted a bit of demythologizing of texts in 1 Samuel, some of King Saul's behavior sounds like that of a manic-depressive person. After Samuel anoints him king, "the spirit of God possessed him and he fell into a prophetic frenzy" (10:10). At other times he displays rash behavior. But we're also told that "the spirit of the LORD departed from Saul, and an evil spirit from the LORD tormented him" so that David was brought to play the lyre to make him feel better (16:14-23). We don't need to try to absolve Saul of all his mistakes because he may have suffered from some form of mental illness, but people of 3,000 years ago had to struggle with many of the same psychological and emotional problems that face people today.

Several of the Psalms seem to be the words of depressed people -- in some cases depressed and angry. In Psalm 44, which follows those assigned for this Sunday, the psalmist expresses impatience and anger -- at God. In verses 13 and 14 we read,

Rouse yourself! Why do you sleep, O LORD?
Awake, do not cast us off forever!
Why do you hide your face?
Why do you forget our affliction and oppression?

People often feel that they're not allowed to express negative emotions about God -- disappointment and especially anger -- to God. We have to be on our best behavior in prayer! But the fact is that if we're mad at God, God knows about it anyway. What's the point of pretending? The writers of the Psalms don't seem to feel that that they have to. Elijah, in our First Lesson, tells God that he doesn't think that God has treated him fairly after he has been "very zealous for the LORD of hosts."

Or consider Psalm 88. You can't get a lot more depressing than this! It may be a lament of someone suffering from some lifelong illness, and though it is addressed to "the God of my salvation" there seems to be no real expression of hope for salvation. The way NIV translates the closing verse is chilling:
"You have taken my companions and loved ones from me; the darkness is my closest friend."

A lack of hope -- that is what may be the worst thing about being genuinely depressed. The depressed person is unable to envision a better condition as a real possibility, and for that reason the condition of depression has been called "A disease of hope." That is a serious problem for Christians who are called to lives not just of "faith" and "charity" (the parts of Paul's trio from 1 Corinthians 13 that we usually emphasize) but also of "hope."

"We hope for what we do not see," Paul tells us (Romans 8:24). There is always some uncertainty, some indefiniteness, about hope, simply because what we hope for isn't here yet. If we knew everything about it, it would be a possession, not something we looked forward to. But that doesn't mean that the object of our hopes must be completely vague and undefined.

Christian hope at its fullest is hope for resurrection and should not stop short of that. "If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied" (1 Corinthians 15:19). The ultimate promise is that even death itself is not a hopeless condition -- because of the God who created the universe out of nothing. And if that is the case then the things that sometimes make the world look bleak in the midst of life, whether external circumstances or our own internal conditions, cannot get rid of hope. We encounter deathlike situations during our lives, but also little resurrections that bear the mark of the ultimate hope that God gives us in Christ.

Carter Shelley responds: I am glad The Immediate Word is addressing the subject of depression this week. It seems like one of the advancements of modern science and medicine is a greater knowledge of and sympathy for this debilitating malady that affects so many Americans. I find it extremely heartening to know that before modern medicine and modern society, both recognition and attention were paid to the serious nature of mental disease and emotional distress.

First Kings 19:1-15a beautifully presents Elijah's sense of despair after being identified as public enemy number one of Queen Jezebel and King Ahab. If one was rooting for the good guys in the previous account of Naboth's murder and Ahab's acquisition of Naboth's vineyard, then one expects Elijah to be victorious and celebrated as the righteous man of the hour. Instead, we encounter a man who finds his prophetic mantle a heavy burden. It's not much fun being right if the result is a price on one's head, the immediate necessity of heading for the hills, and ongoing isolation and loneliness in the wilderness. Elijah's malaise is explicit and very real. Being God's prophet doesn't guarantee a stress-free life or even a long one. The kind of depression Elijah voices in 1 Kings 19 is the kind that society gives most credibility. Elijah has something specific and legitimate to be depressed about. He's not mentally ill. In fact, if he wasn't hurting and upset by past events and current dangers, he really would be sick. All Elijah needs is God's confirmation that God remains with Elijah even in the darkest and loneliest of moments.

My own first encounters with a holy whiner resulted from a college paper I wrote on "The Confessions of Jeremiah." Up until my seventeenth year I had assumed that all of God's Old and New Testament witnesses had been courageous, vocal, successful, and confident. Up until my seventeenth year I had also assumed that I couldn't be all of those things and would not be called upon by God or Christ to do anything so taxing or trying as was expected of my biblical heroes. Then I started reading the words of Jeremiah, and suddenly I discovered that God didn't let whiners, complainers, or individual protests get in the way of God's Word and will. Jeremiah was God's prophet and a clinically depressed man who took prophetic rejection personally, and shed many a tear in the service of his Lord. Suddenly the biblical patriarchs and matriarchs had a human face similar to my own. What I also discovered was God didn't punish Jeremiah for complaining or crying. God didn't coddle Jeremiah. Quite the contrary, God often offered a "pull up your bootstraps" sort of speech to get back with the business of living and prophesying. Yet God did this confronting and supporting within the context of the individual prophet's grief and pain. Jeremiah's heartache and despair received recognition. The human being received divine support. This recognition and support did not fix a tough situation or let Jeremiah or Elijah off the hook, but it did validate their calling while appreciating their vulnerability and loneliness. To both Jeremiah's confessions and Elijah's despair, God speaks.

In Jesus' liberating of the man possessed by the demons, a number of readings are possible. The first century and twenty-first century interpretation may take what Luke records at face value. A man is literally possessed of demons who make his life a living hell. Jesus calls the demons out, but the demons first beg Jesus not to interfere. Ultimately, the divine will prevails over the demonic will and the man is freed of his inner demons. Some biblical scholars and preachers prefer to understand this expulsion of demons as an ancient way to describe a mental distress yet undiagnosed in Jesus day. Schizophrenia? Manic depression? Clinical depression? Multiple Personality? Anyone who has been so diagnosed or who has a family member who suffers from one of these illnesses knows that the demons of mental illness are not easily expelled. We live in a time when there are medicines to help control or temper these mental demons, but the pain and suffering of those so afflicted doesn't get easier with only a pill and a prayer. Familial support and love, a sense of self-worth and centeredness focused upon Christ, and a willingness to trust in God's compassion and wholeness also are important components.

Because this Sunday is Father's Day, it's a good time to acknowledge that not all Christians were blessed with loving, sane, and benevolent fathers. We can be grateful for the fathers who offered love and security and an inspiring Christian faith, but we also know that not all of us had such blessings. Thus, it's important to recognize via prayers, comments in the sermon, or in some other way that we are grateful for Our Father in heaven and for loving earthly fathers, but that we also pray for those for whom the word "Daddy" leaves a hollow feeling of emptiness, loss, or pain.

As for depression, it's one of the most common illnesses Americans suffer from in 2004. It's not the killer heart disease or cancer can be, but it debilitates and paralyzes far more people than ever admit to it or seek help. If one as minister has ever suffered from depression and sought effective treatment for it, one may consider this sermon an opportunity to share that experience with the congregation. If such disclosure feels too scary, then a few sentences from William Styron's book (see Roger Lovette's comments) or Frederick Buechner's Now and Then may be helpful. One of the most frustrating realities I encounter with folks who are clinically depressed but unwilling to seek treatment is the statement, "I'm strong enough to deal with this by myself." Well, yes. With enough time, one can get over depression on one's own. But is such misery really nobler than admitting one's emotional pain and seeking medical, therapeutic, and familial support? I don't think so. Elijah didn't just endure. He cried out to God. Jeremiah didn't simply keep a journal. He addressed it to his God with the expectation that God would answer.

First Kings 19:1-15 and Luke 8:26-39 demonstrate that ancient Israelites and Jewish carpenters understood that not all pain and suffering human beings experience is of a physical nature. If one's head or heart is not functioning properly, then one is not truly healthy nor fully able to serve one's God with all of one's heart, soul, and mind. The shame comes not from being depressed but from trying to handle it alone on one's own. Such a stance contradicts the most basic of Christian tenets: our recognition that we cannot do anything on our own alone. In all we are dependent upon God for opportunity, for grace, for courage, and for hope. In Jesus Christ there is always hope. May we share that hope and receive that help at those times in our lives when the weight of the world sits too heavily on our shoulders. May we recall that we have not only our God the Father/Mother and our brother Jesus and our comforting Spirit but also our fellow Christians with whom to share hurt, help, and hope.

Roger Lovette responds: Unholy Ghost, edited by Nell Casey (New York: William Morrow, 2001), a collection of essays on depression by some very fine writers, might be helpful for preachers searching for resources on depression.

Here are some excerpts: William Styron writes, "For over seventy years the word has slithered innocuously through the language like a slug, leaving little trace of its intrinsic malevolence and presenting, by its very insipidity, a general awareness of the horrible intensity of the disease when out of control." For Styron, the progression of his own illness was gradual and a nightmare: "The shadows of nightfall seemed more somber, my mornings less buoyant, walks in the woods became less zestful." He was overtaken by anxiety, panic, and a "visceral queasiness''; he was haunted by a "fidgety restlessness" and "an immense and aching solitude" (p. 4).

Another essayist, Virginia Heffernan, describes the changes wrought both within and without: "Overnight, it seemed, I went from a twenty-eight-year-old optimist ... to a person who is unreliable and preoccupied, a person other people find themselves trying to avoid. Depression brought to me a new rationing of resources: for every twenty-four hours I got about three, then two, then one hour worth of life reserves -- personality, conservation, motion" (p. 4).

David Carp writes: "I now see depression as akin to being tied to a chair with restraints on my wrists. It took me a long time to realize that I only magnify my distress by struggling for freedom. My pain diminished when I gave up trying to escape completely from it. However, don't interpret my current approach to depression as utterly fatalistic. I do whatever I can to dull depression's pain, while premising my life on its continuing presence" (p. 148).

Donald Hall's poems Without (Houghton Mifflin, 1998), which were written after the death of his poet wife, Jane Kenyon, is a moving understanding of grief intertwined with depression.

William Styron chronicles his own journey with depression in his book, Darkness Visible (1985).

Meri Nana-Ama Danquah authored Willow Weep for Me: A Black Woman's Journey through Depression (Norton/Ballentine).


Related Illustrations
From Roger Lovette:
Father's Day stories: Maybe one idea would be that we don't have to be father of the year to be a good father. I think a lot of us fathers feel like we have not done as "good a job as we should." Maybe we don't need to be No. 1 Father -- but just be the best father we can. Here we bump into the oughts, musts, shoulds once again.

***

Ken Chafin was a Baptist preacher with a wonderful heart. He told in his book Help! I'm a Layman about how disappointed his five-year-old daughter was when he told her he had to speak somewhere that evening. He saw her disappointment and told her he was going to speak to a group at the church on "What a Good Father Ought to Be." He asked her to help him with his speech and during dinner he asked her to come and whisper in his ear the ideas that would come to her. Here is the list as he wrote them down:

1. Catch a fish.
2. Build a fire.
3. Fly a kite.
4. Catch a butterfly.
5. Plant a flower.
6. Get a kitty-cat out of the mud.

As Dr. Chafin read over the list he said all the things she wanted did not require any money at all -- but they require him.

***

Clarence Budington Kelland writes of his father: "He didn't tell me how to live; he lived and let me watch him do it."

William Barclay writes in A Spiritual Autobiography (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1975, p. 4): "I remember G. K. Chesterton in one of his books telling how when he was a child, he had a toy theatre. One of the cardboard figures was a man with a golden key. Chesterton said that he had long since forgotten what character the man with the key represented, but somehow he always associated this man with his father, because his father had unlocked for him so many doors to wonderful things -- and I too can say that of my father."

I read somewhere that Brooks Adams was the former Ambassador to Great Britain. He began keeping a diary when he was a little boy. One entry read: "Went fishing with my father. This most glorious day of my life." The father also kept a diary. His entry for that day was: "Went fishing with my son -- a day wasted." Papa missed the point.

From David Leininger:
The Barcelona Olympics of 1992 provided one of track and field's most incredible moments.

Britain's Derek Redmond had dreamed all his life of winning a gold medal in the 400-meter race, and his dream was in sight as the gun sounded in the semifinals at Barcelona. He was running the race of his life and could see the finish line as he rounded the turn into the backstretch. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain go up the back of his leg. He fell face first onto the track with a torn right hamstring.

Sports Illustrated recorded the dramatic events:

As the medical attendants were approaching, Redmond fought to his feet. "It was animal instinct," he would say later. He set out hopping, in a crazed attempt to finish the race. When he reached the stretch, a large man in a t-shirt came out of the stands, hurled aside a security guard, and ran to Redmond, embracing him.

It was Jim Redmond, Derek's father. "You don't have to do this," he told his weeping son.

"Yes, I do," said Derek.

"Well, then," said Jim, "we're going to finish this together."

And they did. Fighting off security men, the son's head sometimes buried in his father's shoulder, they stayed in Derek's lane all the way to the end, as the crowd gaped, then rose and howled and wept.

Derek didn't walk away with the gold medal, but he walked away with an incredible memory of a father who, when he saw his son in pain, left his seat in the stands to help him finish the race.

***

It is strange that the famous writer Rudyard Kipling wrote such charming children's books. Kipling's own childhood was miserable. At age five, he and his sister were sent to a boarding school in England. The woman they lived with beat them regularly and often locked young Rudyard in the cellar. But his suffering only strengthened Rudyard Kipling's character.

Rudyard Kipling was a devoted father to his three children. In 1899, his oldest daughter died of pneumonia, and Rudyard dedicated himself to being the best possible father to his remaining children, daughter Elsie and son John. Kipling was especially proud of John. There were so many things he wanted to teach the boy. In 1910, Kipling wrote a poem to twelve-year-old John, passing on his definition of manhood to his son. The poem, "If," is known to millions of people all over the world. The first and last of its four stanzas read:

If you can keep your head while all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting, too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise.

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And which is more, you'll be a Man, my son!

Five years later, when World War I set Europe ablaze, Rudyard Kipling's beloved son, John, went off to fight in France. He was killed in combat. Kipling was heartbroken.

A few years later, Kipling received a strange package from a Frenchman named Maurice Hammoneau. In the package was a copy of one of Kipling's book, marred by a bullet hole. Also in the package was a Croix de Guerre, a French military medal for bravery in combat. Maurice wrote that he had been shot during a battle in World War I. His life was saved by the copy of Kipling's book he had kept in his pocket. He was sending his medal to Kipling out of gratitude.

Kipling and Maurice Hammoneau continued to write back and forth over the years. In 1929, Maurice's wife gave birth to a baby son. The Hammoneau's named him Jean, the French equivalent of John, in honor of Rudyard Kipling's son. They asked Kipling to be the child's godfather.
-- "You'll Be a Man, My Son!" by Suzanne Chazin, Reader's Digest, June 1993, pp. 67-72.

***

MY FATHER

When I was four years old: My daddy can do anything.
When I was five years old: My daddy knows a whole lot.
When I was six years old: My dad is smarter than your dad.
When I was eight years old: My dad doesn't know exactly everything.

When I was 10 years old: In the olden days, when my dad grew up, things were sure different.
When I was 12 years old: Oh, well, naturally, Dad doesn't know anything about that. He is too old to remember his childhood.
When I was 14 years old: Don't pay any attention to my dad. He is so old-fashioned.
When I was 21 years old: Him? He's hopelessly out of date.
When I was 25 years old: Dad knows about it, but then he should, because he has been around so long.
When I was 30 years old: Maybe we should ask Dad what he thinks. After all, he's had a lot of experience.
When I was 35 years old: I'm not doing a single thing until I talk to Dad.
When I was 40 years old: I wonder how Dad would have handled it. He was so wise.
When I was 50 years old: I'd give anything if Dad were here now so I could talk this over with him. Too bad I didn't appreciate how smart he was. I could have learned a lot from him.
-- From an "Ann Landers" column

***

Fred Craddock, that wonderful teacher of preachers, tells the story of vacationing in the Smokey Mountains area of Tennessee. He and his wife had found a lovely restaurant at a place called the Black Bear Inn. Craddock writes:

We were seated there looking out at the mountains when this old man, with shocking white hair, a Carl Sandburg-looking person came over and spoke to us. He said, "You're on vacation?"

We said, "Yes," and he just kept right on talking.

"What do you do," he asked. Well, I was thinking, Craddock notes, that it was none of his business, but I let out that I was a minister. Then he said, "Oh, a minister; well I've got a story for you." He pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Won't you have a seat," Craddock added. (He found out later that he was eighty years old and the former governor of Tennessee.)

He said, "I was born back here in these mountains and when I was growing up I attend Laurel Springs Church. My mother was not married and as you might expect in those days, I was embarrassed about that -- at school I would hide in the weeds by a nearby river and eat my lunch alone because the other children were very cruel. And when I went to town with my courageous mother I would see the way people looked at me trying to guess who my daddy was.

"The preacher fascinated me, but at the same time he scared me. He had a long beard, a rough-hewn face, a deep voice, but I sure liked to hear him preach. But I didn't think I was welcome at church so I would go just for the sermon. And as soon as the sermon was over, I would rush out so nobody would say, 'What's a boy like you doing here in church?'

"One day though," the old man continued, "I was trying to get out but some people had already got in the aisle so I had to remain. I was waiting, getting in a cold sweat, when all of a sudden I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I looked out of the corner of my eye and realized it was the face of the preacher. And I was scared to death.

"The preacher looked at me. He didn't say a word, he just looked at me, and then he said, 'Well boy, you're a child of ...' and he paused, and I knew he was going to try to guess not who my mother was but who my father was."

"The preacher said, 'You're a child of ... um. Why, you're a child of God! I see a striking resemblance, boy!' He swatted me on the bottom and said, 'Go, claim your inheritance.' "

And then the old man who was telling the story said to Fred Craddock, "I was born on that day!"
-- Craddock Stories, edited by Mike Graves and Richard Ward (St. Louis: Chalice Press, 2001), pp. 156-157


Worship Resources
by Julia Strope

CALL TO WORSHIP (based on Psalm 42--44; 1 Kings 19)

We've gathered again for worship; all our emotions -- fear, sadness, anger, and joy -- have come here with us. With words and pictures we name our inner realities and express our desire to be close to God.

We yearn for the Holy One like a deer longs for a stream of cool water. We thirst for God!

With our own ears, we have heard how God has been with our ancestors. We've heard about the things God did long ago.

But we want to know about the things God is doing now! We want to experience the Creator in our bodies and minds.

Sometimes we are afraid and feel sad. Like the Hebrew poets, we can sing and ask God to make things all right; like the Prophet Elijah, we look for God in the wind and in natural events.

With all of our senses, we are aware of Divine Presence in and around us. We know God comes as a soft whisper!

Let's sing and pray our gratitude.

HYMN: "Earth and All Stars," DEXTER, TPH 458

PRAYER OF ADORATION (antiphonal)

People on pulpit side: How glad we are to be here in this sanctuary, this place of peace!
People on other side: How thankful we are for the breath of life!
People on pulpit side: We've come with various hopes, gracious God, and we feel your generous welcome.
People on other side: With our whole selves, we listen for your voice.
All: Amen.

COMMUNITY CONFESSION (based on Galatians 3:23-29)

Living God, the time for faith is here. Yet we seek security by defining and refining old ways. We've been washed in waters of life; we've promised to walk with Christ, yet we find ourselves tangled with bitterness and shame for things we have done or for things done to us. We speak about peace and unity but we find ourselves condemning others for their attitudes and actions. Forgive us and free us from our guilt. Amen.

PERSONAL CONFESSION (silent)

WORD OF GRACE AND ASSURANCE OF FORGIVENESS

Leader: We have confessed our shortcomings; God frees us from all of them. Deep inside, Christ offers us peace. Hallelujah!

CONGREGATIONAL RESPONSE

"Dear Lord and Father of Mankind," stanza 4 (1887), REST, TPH 345

Drop thy still dews of quietness
Till all our strivings cease;
Take from our souls the strain and stress
And let our ordered lives confess
The beauty of thy peace.

IDEA FOR CHILDREN/CHANCEL DRAMA (supporting the theme of the adult sermon)

In the chancel area tell the Elijah story of 1 Kings 21:1-10 as a skit (barely rehearsed)

Angel (white clothes with tinsel halo)
God (jeans and white t-shirt)
Elijah (jeans and black t-shirt, scarf)
Jezebel (slacks and colorful t-shirt with necklace and hat)

Scenery: cardboard tree, mountain with cave opening

Props: dog (live or stuffed); signpost for "wilderness"; bread and pitcher; pillow

Elijah (from congregation, walks into chancel, musing to himself): God has been present with me in awesome ways: God sent fires to burn up the sacrifices to the god named Baal; God sent rain to the parched earth; God gave me strength to run all the way home in front of the king's chariot (chuckling)! I got to my house just before it rained buckets!

Jezebel (walks from congregation toward chancel, talking to herself and congregation): I am mad! Very mad. Mad that Elijah the prophet of Yahweh has so much power. I'm the queen; Ahab is king! Things should be exactly as we want. I'm angry as a wet hen that people like him -- that charismatic prophet! I wish he didn't have so much charm. (threatens Elijah) I wish you were dead! I'll kill myself if I don't wipe you out by tomorrow afternoon! Hah. You'll see.

(exits)

Elijah: Yikes. I'm scared. Really afraid. I gotta get out of town. Let's see. Where shall I go? I don't want anyone to go with me. Oh, maybe I'll take my dog. Hmmm -- that way (noting signpost, "wilderness").
(He walks slowly, becomes grouchy, sits under tree with dog)
God, this is too much. I'm ready to die. Take my life. Kill me. I might as well be dead. (lies down under tree and soon snores)

Angel (touches Elijah): Heh. Wake up. Lunch is ready (gives him pitcher and bread). You gotta eat. (angel stands aside while Elijah sits and nibbles bread and drinks, shares with dog; then he lies down and snores again; gently shakes Elijah)

You need some protein and fluids. You have a long trip in ahead of you. (angel exits)

(Elijah nibbles and grumbles a little and starts walking with dog to the mountain, finds cave and sits down)

God (walks from the congregation and stands at the other end of the chancel, invisible to Elijah): Elijah, what are you doing?

Elijah: What am I doing? I've been trying to do what you asked. But those people -- well, those people have broken their covenant with you. They've killed your prophets. I'm the only one left! What am I doing? They're trying to kill me!

God: Elijah, go over there to the mountaintop.

Elijah (moves a short distance, shows fear, trembling; could use sound effects): Ooh. The winds are so fierce. Sounds like the hills and rocks are shattering. What am I doing here? Where is God? Lightening is striking from every direction. I've lost God! Can't find God!

God (stage whisper): Elijah!

Elijah (covers his head and face with his scarf): This is scary.

God: Elijah, what are you doing here?

Elijah: Well, you know I've always tried to do what you asked. But those people, they've not done what you wanted. They've been brutal with my friends -- I must be your only remaining prophet! They are trying to kill me.

God: Elijah, why are you here?

Elijah (shrugs): Dunno. Yes, I know. I'm scared, depressed, lonely. So I'm hiding from Jezebel and her city. I'd rather die than let her get hands on me!

God: Wrong; no death today. Go back toward the city. I am with you. You have things to do there. Find Elisha and let him be your companion. I have things for you two to do.

(God and Elijah exit through the congregation)

* * * * * * *
Theme: Fear and gloominess are known to God, who offers helpful suggestions.

Questions:
Why did Elijah leave the city?
How did he feel?
What was he doing in the wilderness and at the cave?
What did the angel tell him to do?
What did God tell him to do?
When you feel gloomy and sad, what do you do?

Prayer: God, thank you for being present with us even when we don't feel like doing anything. Even when we are grouchy. Thank you for whispering what we should do. We want to listen to your voice and do healthy things. Amen.

HYMN: PSALM 42; Psalm tone D. Mews, 1986; TPH 190; choir/solo voice chanting stanzas with congregation responding on the refrain

HYMN after sermon: "There's a Sweet, Sweet Spirit." SWEET SPIRIT; TPHh 398

*AN AFFIRMATION (adapted from J. Buchanan, Being Church, Becoming Community, 37; ISBN 0664256694)

We are a light in this city
reflecting the inclusive love of God.
Comforted and challenged by Christ
we are endeavoring to be a welcoming and serving faith family.

In this place, an intersection of faith and life,
we experience the Holy in words, silence, and music.
On this human journey
we nurture one another on our individual pathways.

Inspired by our heritage and with hope for the future
we confront each tomorrow with confidence in Divine purpose for us
and for all Creation.
In spite of our fears and troubles, we live toward peace that passes
Understanding

INTERCESSORY PRAYERS FOR LEADER AND PEOPLE

Leader: God of the ages, thank you for fathering us during our rejoicing times and our times of distress. For mothering us through all our developmental stages, we are grateful.
People: Thank you for earthly fathers who have modeled your love and mercy. We treasure their gifts of intellect, industriousness, and communication skills. Help us to bless them by lifestyles that are thinking, honest, forgiving, and generous.
Leader: God of light and sound, like Elijah, we sometimes ask, "Why me? I'm the only good one left." Like the Psalmist, we groan, "I feel so heavy." Like Paul the Apostle, we observe that culture stifles us and we long for "faith time" to replace "law time."
People: Touch us deep within so we feel your affirming goodness and your guiding voice. Strengthen us enough to embrace our depressions and ingenious enough to be freed from the dark places.
Leader: God of Creation, we know the scriptures say you have written your love on human hearts and that you choose to live among us. We pray for this planet, this global village. Love seems lost among violent behaviors and vengeful attitudes; forgiveness seems inert on festering wounds, anxieties, and greed; good neighborliness in so many areas seems only a long ago story told by a man named Jesus.
People: Come to the earth again as love, forgiveness, and hospitality; stay with your creatures 'til peace is reality. Rain wisdom upon world leaders, upon aggressors in Iraq and among African tribes and upon Humanitarian Aid workers.
Leader: God of tomorrow, confront us when our tools and ideas of yesterday simply won't work today. Free us from our cherished illusions and give us a broad dream of what might be.
People: Immerse us in yourself and power us to be peace-takers wherever we go. Heal us from the inside out of physical and spiritual disease. Re-direct us to your realm. Amen.

HYMN: "When We Are Living." SOMOS DEL SEN; TPH 400

BENEDICTION/CHARGE

Leader: Our service here is ended. We are in our right minds! We have been touched with God!
People: We will walk with Christ in the days ahead, aware each step of the way that God is working with us.
Leader: Go through ball fields and work places, telling your story of God's whispering touch.
People: Thank God for the breath of life and for divine guidance on our human journeys!
Leader: Amen.


A Children's Sermon
By Wesley T. Runk

Text: Vs. 3 -- Then he was afraid; he got up and fled for his life, and came to Beersheba, which belongs to Judah; he left his servant there. 1 Kings 19:1-15a

Object: A shadow or shadows

Good morning, boys and girls. How many of you know what a shadow looks like? (let them answer) Very good, and a shadow is kind of fun in the daytime. We can make a shadow do some interesting things. For instance, we can move the shadow by moving our arms and legs. We can make the shadow bigger or smaller by changing our positions. These kinds of shadows belong to us and we are very happy that we have one. If we didn't have a shadow on a bright and sunny day then we would be invisible and no one could see us.

But there are other kinds of shadows. Have you ever lain in your bed at night when there were shadows in your room? Sometimes the shadows were on your walls and sometimes they were on your bed. Sometimes the shadows move and we don't have anything to do with it. Also, sometimes the shadows that are in our room look like people or animals. Once in a while the shadows are really creepy and they make us afraid. This kind of shadow we wish would go away but we can't do much about it.

In the morning the shadows go away but during the night we have to be pretty strong just to stay in our beds and not call for mom or dad.

It isn't the shadows that get mixed up and act scary, it is our minds that make up horrible ideas about what the shadows are about and how they would do bad things to us. However, I don't know of one shadow that ever hurt a boy or girl.

Our minds can trick us. Sometimes we find ourselves in different places than we have ever been before and we feel very lonely because we do not recognize anything familiar. Have you ever gotten up in the middle of the night and not know where you are? (let them answer) Nothing is the same like your own bedroom. That can be scary also can't it? (let them answer)

A long time ago a man in the Bible by name of Elijah became very afraid of a king and queen called Ahab and Jezebel. Elijah was a prophet of God and when he preached to the people he spoke what God said to him. It was always the truth but sometimes it made people angry. Ahab and Jezebel were very angry about what God said through his prophet Elijah. So, Elijah ran away. Everywhere he went he saw the shadows of Ahab and Jezebel. It was particularly bad at night. He had a very difficult time sleeping and when he did he dreamed of the king and queen hurting him. Even though he was safe and God was watching over him, he was afraid. Today, we would say Elijah was very depressed. So depressed that he wanted to die but he did not want anyone to kill him. Finally, God discovered Elijah hiding and he spoke with him and assured him that things would work out in the right way.

That is what we must do when we are afraid. When even shadows can scare us we need to let God find us and talk with us. Our minds are made to keep in touch with God and to feel his presence in our lives. But our minds can't receive God when they are filled with fear. So we must learn now that God wants to be with us and help us be strong and have courage.

The next time you see shadows I want you to think about Elijah and how he had to get rid of the shadows in his life so that God could fill him with courage. Amen.


* * * * * * * * * * * *


The Immediate Word, June 20, 2004, issue.

Copyright 2004 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.

All rights reserved. Subscribers to The Immediate Word service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons and in worship and classroom settings only. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.