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Sunday, November 7, 2021

“Revolutionary Love: Loving Ourselves”


1 Kings 19:1-13

Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS

November 7, 2021


If ever there were a Biblical poster-boy for depression, Elijah might be it. [1] In today’s reading, he’s in a downward spiral. He’s just gone toe-to-toe with the priests of Baal. He’s called down actual fire from heaven and brought rain to people who had been living through a drought for seven years. The great Troubler of Israel has put on such a show that he brought the nation safely back under God’s wing. 


Though he appears successful, one threatening word from Queen Jezebel brings it all crashing down. When she threatens his life, he spirals into fear. He runs and runs until he crashes. 


Now, anyone who has ever battled depression probably isn’t too surprised by this. Because you know that you can find yourself in a downward spiral at any time. It doesn’t only happen when things are going badly. It can also happen when it looks like you’ve got it together. 


And those who have lived with depression will also likely feel a kindred connection to Elijah when we hear his lament, “It is enough now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.” Elijah collapses in despair under a solitary broom tree in the wilderness.. He doesn’t seem to have any plans for the future. He’s just done. 


But an angel comes along and nudges him, “Get up and eat.” And so he does. But then he’s right back in bed with the covers pulled up over his head. This angel, though, is like the friend who comes over and pounds on your door and walks you into the bathroom and turns on the shower and tells you you have to get in. “Get up. Eat! Otherwise, this isn’t going to end well.” And so Elijah eats again. And somehow finds the energy to keep going. 


There was a tweet from a couple of years ago that I love. Joy Marie Clarkson said, “This is your gentle reminder that one time in the Bible Elijah was like “God, I’m so mad! I want to die!” so God said “Here’s some food. Why don’t you have a nap?” So Elijah slept, ate, & decided things weren't so bad. Never underestimate the spiritual power of a nap & a snack.” [2]


To be clear: a nap and a snack doesn’t fix clinical depression. We are blessed with many other powerful, healing tools available to us now like trained therapists and brain science and medication. We can go way beyond a nap and a snack, thanks be to God. 


And still, this tweet makes me smile because she gets at something really important, I think, and that’s how embodied our struggles can be. As much as we might like to try and put things into categories like “mental” health, “spiritual” practices, nutrition, exercise, and other physical components - the truth is, they’re all connected, right?  And when the angel visits Elijah, we see this. He is mentally low, low, low and he is physically unable to get up and keep going. The angel comes and ministers to his spirit by telling him to care for his body. The nap and the snack don’t just help Elijah’s body, they are also a balm for his spirit and mind. 


Our Stillspeaking God reminds us about the mind-body-spirit connection through the story of Elijah and ALSO through the wise teachings of Valarie Kaur. We are nearing the end of our journey with her book, See No Stranger, and this week we are exploring the three chapters about loving ourselves: breathe, push, and transition. 


The images in these chapters are of labor and birth. That is to say the stories are messy, bloody, damp, and filled with exhaustion and ecstacy in equal measure. One of the things that Kaur makes clear is that the work of loving ourselves doesn’t happen in isolation. Hers is not a gospel of self-care that says we can dig our way out of despair simply by carving out “me time.” Instead, she shares the wisdom of her friend Melissa Harris-Perry who says we need to move beyond self-care to “collective-care.”  Kaur says, “The term ‘self-care’ implies that caring for ourselves is a private, individual act, that we need only to detach ourselves from our web of relations and spend our resources on respite or pampering. But Melissa reminds us that care is labor that we all do for one another, in seen and unseen ways….Meslissa calls for ‘squad-care’ - a way to be in relationship with people committed to caring for one another. ‘Squad-care reminds us...our job is to have each other’s back.’” [3] 


Elijah didn’t pull himself off.  Instead, the angel in the story represents squad-care, the community at work making space for him to breathe, push, and transition into the next stage of his journey. Loving ourselves isn’t only about speaking gently to ourselves, honoring our boundaries, and making intentional choices about how we treat ourselves. It’s also about allowing God to love us through other people. 


One of my dear friends lost her mother earlier this week. Earlier this week I was scrolling through Facebook and stopped and lost my breath for a moment because of the beauty of a photo she shared. It was a photo of my friend, curled up with her mom in the hospital bed. Her mom’s arms are wrapped around her tightly and her mom looks up at the camera, grinning from ear to ear. My friend’s eyes are closed, with her head resting on her mom’s shoulder. The photo exudes peace, trust, joy, comfort, love. It is a photo of giving and receiving love. And, in it, I saw the arms of the Spirit wrapped tightly and fiercely around both of Her beloved daughters as they learn to let go. My friend said of this week, “Time is so weird in this liminal world at the edge of life and death. It feels like another kind of birth process… but in reverse. She is going through a different kind of labor. The Holy is luring her Spirit back into the great Love of the universe. We are holding her hand as she goes slowly…”


These moments when we are pushed to the very edge like Elijah was - these moments like the one my friend captured with her mom - these are spaces of transition. The final stage of giving birth is called transition. It is the most intense and dangerous stage of labor. Contractions are often right on top of each other and time seems to lose all meaning. Kaur says, “Transition feels like dying but it is the stage that precedes the birth of new life.” One of the phrases Kaur is known for is this question: “Is this the darkness of the tomb or the darkness of the womb?” Sometimes, when we’re in a heap on the ground like Elijah, it can be awfully hard to tell. 

Sometimes, when our whole society seems to be going through transition together, the labor can feel overwhelming. We can’t yet see what is being born and we are stuck in the pain of labor, unsure where we’re headed. 


When transition terrifies, Kaur reminds us how important it is to get quiet. To breathe. 


She writes about two voices that live inside of her - competing for her attention. One of them she calls “Little Critic.” He’s the voice of doubt that tells her she’s never good enough and that danger lurks around every corner. He’s Queen Jezebel, sending her packing in despair. The other voice she calls Wise Woman. She writes about how Wise Woman is quieterl. She has to make space to hear her voice. Kaur began sitting down with a blank journal just to listen to Wise Woman. She would write at the top of the page “Wise Woman here. Wise Woman says…” and then she listens and writes. 


I wonder if that’s what Elijah was doing when he found himself in the cave. After the nap, after the snack, after he put one foot in front of the other he found himself in the darkness of - a womb? A tomb? - a cave. 


And the word of the Lord came to him and told him to go outside on the mountain and to listen, for God was about to pass by. And there was a great wind, a wind so strong that it split rocks, but God’s voice wasn’t in the big wind. And then there was an earthquake...and a fire..but God’s voice wasn’t there, either. Finally, there was the sound of silence. The Wise Woman whispering so quietly she was barely audible at all. 


And Elijah turned his face into the silence and listened with the ear of his heart. He picked up a pen and wrote at the top of the page, “Wise Woman here. Wise Woman says….”




Thanks be to our Stillspeaking God. 



NOTES:

[1] Here’s a nice blog post about this: https://wordsbymatthew.com/blog/7-lessons-depression-elijah-suicidal-prophet 

[2] https://twitter.com/joynessthebrave/status/1101120361012346881?lang=en 

[3] Kaur, Valarie. See No Stranger, p. 248-249. 



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