Rise Up and Eat

1 Kings 19:1-15

June 23, 2013

Wellington Ave. United Church of Christ

Chicago, Illinois 

“Rise up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you; because I want you to go on even farther than you have come now.” (I Kings 19:7)

I want to talk to you about angels and food this morning---- about wanting to curl up under a tree and die, about wanting to to hide in a cave of fear, about sharing what you’ve got, about hope.  Like all sermons I write, I wrestle with how the sacred scripture speaks to my lived life and faith and how it might speak to yours. I try and pay attention to where this story intersects with mine and what it has to teach or inspire.

In studying, meditating, praying and ruminating on the story of prophet Elijah I have come to really appreciate him not just as a prophet brave enough to speak out against the authorities of oppression---King Ahab or Queen Jezebel who need to be told over and over again in all imperial times that their days are over but I have come to appreciate his humanness, his desire to run away, give up and hide. We often hear about prophets who don’t want the job or ask God to find someone else but we don’t often get let into how they are handling the task except for the weeping Jeremiah.

I find enormous comfort and relief in a God who understands that there comes times when we get tired of the struggle, la lucha, that keeping hope alive is challenging to say the least. I find comfort that God knows we need provisions for the journey and that they will be given to us in all kinds of ways including angels with enough cake to last 40 days and nights. God understands our despair, our fatigue. But God also says, “ Don’t stay in this place Elijah."

Don’t give up. Get up and walk to the mountain of God, because I have a message for you. And yes, I have more work for you.”

In last week’s lectionary we heard how Elijah asked for a cake from a starving widow and her son who had just enough for one more small meal. His asking and her providing gave way to abundance and all were fed. In this week’s continuation of the story we learn that our prophet, this time, is fed himself by an angel. This got me thinking about the importance of food, of nourishment, about hospitality of the spirit, and trust.

I have two stories to share with you that come from my experience living in the Holy Land, in occupied Palestine.  One involves an Arab idol and the other comes from a recent experience I just had. Both are about the importance of being fed so you can carry on.

Has anyone heard about the earthquake that is shaking up the Arab world? Has anyone heard of the Arab Idol star Mohammed Assaf from Gaza? The one who is said to have a voice that is measured by a “golden balance” when he sings his signature song, Why All This? Well if you haven’t heard this young man sing, you must and then even though you do not know any Arabic you will understand why he is such a source of joy and pride all over the world.

You will also then understand why a man, who has been sentenced for 27 years in prison, said these words in a letter read aloud on Arab Idol: “Recently we fought an open-ended hunger strike that lasted a month, and one of the most important demands was the restoration of Arab Satellite TV channels, including MBC. Do you know that the price of watching has cost us tons of human flesh and dozens of chronic diseases?”

For this prisoner, and many hundreds of others who have been on a hunger strike, Mohammed’s voice, his songs are food, nourishment enough to make it onto a list of demands or endure torture. Music and song have always had a way of reviving and restoring us and in this case literally feeding us.

My other story is more personal. It comes from some recent experiences I’ve had in witnessing in my own neighborhood of East Jerusalem where the YWCA is located. It has to do with my own experience as a world weary Elijah and how I was fed. It is hard to name where it begins but let’s start with the interview.

A few Fridays back I interviewed Mohammad El Kurd, the teenager who is featured in the film by JustVision called, In the Neighborhood. It’s the film about what happened to his family and their home and how it came to be occupied by a settler family in 2009. I showed it to you as part of my farewell party. Many of you commented on this young man’s remarkable insights and wisdom.

I learned many wonderful things from Mohammed that Friday afternoon before the demonstration to protest the multitude of evictions taking place in Sheik Jarrah.  There is one thing in particular that I would like to share. It came not from one of the questions I had prepared but from Mohammed’s own need to say something about always being asked to be neutral, to not to take a side. He said emphatically with his voice and hands,

“I was born with a side.  God chose us to live here. God is not a hater or a real estate agent.” This morsel of truth stayed with me the rest of the day and has given me much food for thought. “I was born with a side.” “God is not a real estate agent.” Was this in response to the Orthodox Jews who have come to claim these homes out of belief that God promised the land to them? That God chose them? “God is not a real estate agent” but does God choose sides?

 Mohammed also said, when asked about hope---what is it, where to find it: “I’m still alive.” He said, “You don’t find it. You build it and we all gain by what we do together;” this from a young man who has every reason to hate, every reason to be hopeless. This is the blessing I received.  I was fed by Mohammad that Friday ----by a Muslim youth who lives every day surrounded by hate and violence and who refuses to hate. I was fed by his clear understanding that the Beloved Community, God’s kin-dom on earth as in heaven, needs us as co-creators or builders.  I was fed by his understanding of what it means to fight for justice and how it needs all of us.

I was like the widow with just a little bit of meal or hope left wondering what good word would I be able to share with you back home because so much of what I have seen and heard is depressing, so many of the people I have met feel hopeless about the possibility for peace, so many are angry with the United States and its unconditional support and with Israel for its impunity when it breaks international law.

Like Elijah I was tired of the prophet’s mantle ---to always speak truth to power. Tired of having members of the congregation walk out on my sermons because I was going to get “politiciky” or refuse communion with me because I am a woman. I was exhausted from bearing so many painful stories of forced dispossession or ethnic cleansing, violence and destruction. Too many pictures on my facebook feed about children being shot or arrested, too many pictures of olive trees uprooted and burned, too many pictures of women and men crying over the loss of their homes.  And though I have not been on the run from a raging Jezebel, I understand the fear of maybe going too far and the need to get away.  I know that desire to want to crawl up in a fetal position under a broom tree or crawl into a cave and hide. And I suspect you do too.“Find someone else for the job.” You called me but maybe you have the wrong number.”

 Mohammed’s words, his testimony, his witness, came to me while I was in such a wilderness place. They provided food for this mission God has called me for---- to accompany those who are oppressed and those who are standing on the side of love. His words also provided me the nourishment I needed to go and stand with these families who are about to lose their homes.

After my interview, I joined the rally as folks were settling in for what I would call a town meeting. But because this is Palestine and not some New England town hall meeting, we sit and have refreshments too---always Arabic coffee and water. Because I arrived late and all the seats were taken I found myself standing next to Mr. Shamanseh, the man whose home is on the list for evictions. Since the meeting is held in Hebrew which I don’t understand, I found myself whispering to Mr. Shamasneh. I told him that a few weeks back I had come to visit him and his family on the day the court was supposed to make their decision and post- phoned it. I told him I had spoken with his wife. He looked me in the eyes and said, “So you are the one.” He then smiled and said, “Thank you. She told me about this American woman who came.” I then said, “ I wish I could do more to help. I don’t know what I can do to save your family’s home but I will tell your story, this story of families being forced from their homes, when I return. I will work hard with others to hold my country and its leaders accountable for the economic support it gives that is supporting these unjust laws which are forcing you from your home. I will pray for you and your family.”

This is what I said. This is what I promised. This is what I could and can do. The call of the prophet, not often talked about it, is also to speak truth to suffering, to not shy away from the pain of sharing that suffering. Is this not what the word com- passion means, to share the passion? Is this not what Jesus calls us to do? Walk the Via Dolorosa with him? Help carry the cross? And when the time comes to go to the empty tomb and celebrate his resurrection---rejoice that death does not have the last word? And then live resurrected lives ourselves relying on spirit, that holy ghost, or angels to bless and feed us?

I could stand with Mr. Shamanseh and his family because I was fed by my angel Mohammed and the brave witness and steadfast witness of these Israeli and Palestinian activists working for a justice and peace.  I was able to do what God asks all of us to do, to stand on the side of love, with the people who are on the margins because I had been fed and refreshed.  I could stand next to Mr. Shamanseh and say what I said because God had provided.

So where do you go for nourishment and refreshment? Where are your widows or angels, Mohammeds or community? I hope the Wellington community is one such place.

Wherever you are or wherever you go, also go to the ones who have the least and allow yourselves to be fed.

Ask for the impossible. Deny scarcity and demand abundance--- break bread with those who have no bread. Stand up under your broom tree. Allow yourself to be fed by angels because God want us to go one even farther. Leave your cave and find God not in the earthquake, the fire, even the wind but in the silence and stillness of your own breaking passionate heart. Then go back out like Elijah and do the work that God has called you to do, to be a blessing, to be a messenger for the good news that life is stronger than death.  Go and stand on the side of love wherever it is. And then trust, trust that this will be enough---enough for today.

For new information about the recent court order to evict the Shamasneh family on February 15, please see the following article. The family will resist by staying near their home and we will join them.
Israeli court evicts Palestinian family in East Jerusalemhttp://www.alternativenews.org/english/index.php/features/updates/6964-israeli-court-evicts-palestinian-family-in-east-jerusalem

Sheikh Jarrah, My Neighbourhood

www.aljazeera.com