{"id":48935,"date":"2014-07-15T09:07:58","date_gmt":"2014-07-15T14:07:58","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.austincnm.com\/?p=48935"},"modified":"2018-01-24T15:39:27","modified_gmt":"2018-01-24T21:39:27","slug":"elijah","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/atxcatholic.com\/index.php\/2014\/07\/elijah\/","title":{"rendered":"Elijah and the Widow of Bryan"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Carmelite<\/a><\/p>\n

When I answer the door, a wild- looking old hippie guy standing on my porch asks me for some water and a sandwich. I don\u2019t actually have much food in the house right now, as it\u2019s a few days until Pay Day. I\u2019m trying to think what to give him, remembering I am down to the last scrapes of peanut butter, when, seeming to read my mind, he says that I won\u2019t run out of either bread or peanut butter until the next time I get paid. \u201cJust make me a sandwich,” he says in response to my incredulous stare.<\/p>\n

In my kitchen, I open a cabinet and find my jar of peanut butter unexpectedly full. I also find a loaf of bread. So I make him a sandwich.<\/p>\n

\u201cShould I know you?\u201d I finally ask. \u201cYes. I\u2019m the prophet Elijah.\u201d<\/p>\n

I ask him, \u201cAren\u2019t you supposed to appear in the end times?\u201d * He looks at me sharply with an expression of terrible ferocity, sadness, tenderness, radiance, and when our eyes meet, I feel exposed to the vastness of space, and I know even that vastness to be flying by, nothing at all. I know myself to be dust, less than dust. Both the prophet and I are dust in the wind together.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I find myself on a mountainside next to him. I don\u2019t look at his face, but I watch his feet in their dusty sandals as I follow him up. The path is rough, steep, and though well worn, it is still difficult. We climb on and on in silence. This must be Mt. Carmel. Suddenly I take a thoughtless step, sliding and falling backwards down the narrow path, and then over an edge I didn\u2019t notice before.<\/p>\n

He catches my wrist, and as soon as his hand closes tightly to catch me and stop my fall, I see what fills the pit I almost fell into- the charred remains of little children, so many, too many to count. The full horror of this scene chokes me. As I hang over this terrible place in Elijah\u2019s grip, I hear the Scripture, \u201cit is not against flesh and blood that we are at war, but with the powers and principalities of darkness,\u201d<\/em> and the words of Jesus, \u201cSatan is a murderer and he was a murderer from the beginning. \u201c<\/em><\/p>\n

Suddenly I am back on the mountain path with Elijah, trying to recover my calm. I look at him, his face covered with angry tears, and I remember the priests of Baal he was up against, and I feel I understand the extreme zealous intensity of Elijah. It wasn\u2019t only the worship of an idol, offensive as that was, it was all that this led to, and ultimately, it was the Evil One beneath it all, and who is still our real enemy.<\/p>\n

The little children sacrificed to Baal* don\u2019t suffer anymore. It is God who feels it forever, God who is horrifically wronged, the order of the world distorted by every scream, because He is Love and Truth itself, and we are made in His image, to love and to be loved. There is only one way evil can have any effect on God; through the harm or the betrayal of those He loves.<\/p>\n

Unfaithfulness to Him inevitably leads the human heart to ruin and darkness and worse. \u201cAll who worship them will become like them.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

That pit. I shudder. That place was strangely familiar. I know it signifies much. I will be sorting out its\u2019 implications for a long time.<\/p>\n

Elijah seems tired as we continue our climb. \u201cThank you,\u201d I breathe, feeling that he can hear me, and that he knows I am thanking him, too, for his life of powerful witness to God, of jealous love for Him.<\/p>\n

\u201cZelo zelatus sum,\u201d I think to myself, as we duck into Elijah\u2019s cave. \u201cWith zeal I have been zealous for the Lord God of Hosts;\u201d<\/em> Elijah\u2019s words, and the motto of all Carmelites.* This is why we live, this is why we pray:\u00a0\u201cAs the Lord lives, in whose presence I stand,” <\/em>that\u00a0He come through us into this world, that we might arise and burn like a torch in the spirit and power of Elijah against the spiritual forces of darkness, the idols and injustices of our time, with “a double portion of [his] spirit.”<\/em><\/p>\n

We sit watching the ravens bringing us food from afar. I want to explore the cave, but the prophet\u2019s eyes are closed, and I know we are supposed to pray now, as the sun sets. Just before I close my eyes, I see in the distance, over the sea, a small rain cloud coming up over the water. I understand what this means. \u201cHe shall descend like rain on the meadows.\u201d \u00a0Amen! Come, Lord Jesus.<\/em><\/p>\n

I am aware of the profound, incomprehensible tenderness of God in the “still small voice” <\/em>within\u00a0<\/em>Elijah and myself. We cover our faces, and we say His name, the Name of God.<\/p>\n

“The fire from the Lord consumed the sacrifice… and the people fell on their faces saying, ‘The Lord, He is God! The Lord, He is God!”<\/em><\/strong>\"icon_elijah_02_in_a_cave\"<\/a> Notes:<\/strong><\/p>\n