Je Suis Elijah Under the Broom Bush

A couple weeks ago, our Sunday School lesson was over 1 King 19 – the story of Elijah running away to Horeb after his big victory over the prophets of Baal (in chapter 18). I love this story. God used it mightily in my life at one point to teach me some important lessons about my depression.

Because Elijah is depressed here, yes? “He came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die.” That’s depression, people. A textbook case. And one of the first things to note about this is that it came after a mountaintop moment . . . which is not uncommon. We should prepare ourselves for a possible crash after a spiritual high, especially if we know we are naturally susceptible to such crashes.

But what’s the first thing God did for him? He let him sleep. Like, a lot. He slept, then he woke up to eat, then he slept again. I’ve learned that for me, a lot of my depression is connected to sleep deprivation. I’m TIRED. I need rest. Just getting a good nap usually helps my outlook significantly.

And what’s the other thing God does for him right away? “All at once, an angel touched him and said, ‘Get up and eat.’” He gave him food. The man had been running for his life and presumably had not stopped to get any nourishment. In fact, the angel fed him twice: sleep, eat, sleep, eat. Taking care of my body – SO important for my emotional health. Depression is a physiological thing to a great degree; it is profoundly influenced by maladies in my physical self. A change in diet often improves my emotional state.

Now, note what Elijah says in verse 10 when God asks him what’s up:

“I have been very zealous for the LORD God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, torn down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me, too.”

Poor Elijah. It’s all about him, isn’t it? Now, yes, this response is somewhat understandable in his situation, but if you keep reading, you notice that he delivers this exact same speech again in verse 14. The man seems to be rehearsing this lament; he’s got it down, memorized to the word, ready to spout to anyone who asks. My friends, meditating on your laments will not pull you out of the doldrums.

So, God does this awesome thing that makes me a bit envious: he comes to Elijah, directly.

“Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.”

The phrase “gentle whisper” is sometimes translated “the sound of silence.” Often, I realize that my depression is exacerbated because I am paying so much attention to the storm and noise. God speaks in the sound of silence. I need to get away from the clamor and find the whisper that is God's voice.

So what does God do next for Elijah? He gives him a job – three people to go anoint in His name to take over important roles. In other words, stop moping around, dude! -- do something productive, something for someone else.

Then God filled him in on something that Elijah probably already knew but conveniently ignored in his self-pitying rambling: “Yet I reserve seven thousand in Israel – all whose knees have not bowed down to Baal and whose mouths have not kissed him.”

Elijah wasn’t “the only one left” as he had alleged in the midst of his whining. There were seven thousand more Israelites staying faithful to God . . . Elijah just wasn't looking for them, it seems. He was too busy pouting alone in the wilderness. Isolation increases depression, folks. We need each other.

One of the great things about the Bible is that it doesn’t idealize its heroes. Peter denies Christ, Moses kills a man, David commits adultery . . . we see the spiritual giants in their worst moments as well as their best. God needs us to see, first of all, that these were real people with real problems and failures, just like us. And he also wants to give us role models for how to deal with these problems. When I’m under my broom bush, praying to die (which, praise Jesus, hardly happens anymore), I need to stop obsessing over my misery . . . get a good night’s sleep . . . cut some sugar from my diet for a while . . . make a plan to get something productive done . . . and get out of the house and with some friends.

Don’t tell me the stories of the Bible are not practical for our times.