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I know why the lectionary committee paired the stories of Elijah and the Widow of Zarephath, and Jesus and the Widow of Nain. In both there is the raising of the Widow’s child by the Man of God. In both God seeks out the marginalized one, sees the plight of the outcast, brings good news in a terrible situation.
But the more I thought about these texts, the more I noticed that they are NOT the same story. In the gospel, the focus is all on Jesus and his gracious and miraculous act in restoring a son to his mother. In our focus text from the 1st book of Kings, the Widow is not just a bystander, but a central actor.
The prophet Elijah enters the scene during a desperate time of drought and famine. This widow, this mother, as she puts it, “has only a handful of meal in a jar, and a little oil in a jug; I am now gathering a couple of sticks, so that I may go home and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it, and die.” Her life is in a death spiral. This is her last meal.
You would think that she would protect this precious commodity. She doesn’t know this stranger. He doesn’t sound like her, or look like her, or dress like her. We have often been told that in such situations, we humans revert to our basest instincts—we hoard, we loot, we attack others. There are whole book and movie genres as well as TV shows based on this survival of the fittest mentality. But is this reality? Is this what it means to be human?
Rebecca Solnit, who wrote A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities that Arise in Disaster thinks we aren’t getting the whole story. She says, “so often, when all the ordinary divides and patterns are shattered, people step up to become their brother’s/and sister’s keepers. And that purposefulness and connectedness bring joy even amidst death, chaos, fear, and loss.”
I would add, it is in those situations of extreme, in a personal or communal disaster, that the choices of life, the choices of the way we live, become stark. Are we going to be bitter? Angry? Insular? Paranoid? Or are we going to show our best—sharing with one another, loving even the stranger, refusing to let go of our most treasured identity—being a beloved child of God.
Talk to anyone who lived through the Great Depression and you will hear stories of neighbors helping neighbors. Listen to those who have lived through earthquakes, or floods, or terror attacks. There may be some who take advantage, but the vast majority of us want to help.
The Widow of Zarephath is one of those. Like the widow that Jesus points out in the temple, she gives, not out of her abundance, but in her scarcity. She is willing to get water for this foreign prophet, even though she is weak herself. She is willing to share her meager supply of food, not knowing that there will be any more. She extends hospitality, because it is what she has to give, and that is what it means to be human.
And Elijah also shares what he has, his close connection with God. He is the one (as prophets often are) who points to the God-reality not visible with the earthly eye. He is the one who invites the widow into a world where even a small amount can be enough to be shared (“for thus says the Lord God of Israel: ‘The jar of meal will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not fail until the day that the Lord sends rain on the earth’”). He is the one in some incredible way saves the life of this widow’s son.
It is such an important story—this meeting of Elijah and the Widow of Zarephath—that the Jesus of gospel of Luke brings it up when he is visiting his home town synagogue. He reminds them that this is a story of God and the outcast, God and the foreigner, God and the ones who rarely show up on any “in crowd” list. He has just read Isaiah’s call to “proclaim good news to the poor, freedom for the prisoner and recovery of sight to the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the Jubilee, the year of the Lord’s favor.”
Jesus is saying that just as Elijah, following God’s message, went to Sidon, and found the widow of Zarephath, so he, Jesus, is sent to the 99% and better yet, the lowest of the low, the ones who feel there is nothing left. His friends and neighbors and fellow congregants are not so pleased with this message. But we are given a chance to hear his message again.
In the midst of dire situations and even at good times, God brings a ray of hope. In the midst of despair and in times of joy, God makes promises of life. God is right here in our midst, we just need our eyes, and ears, and hearts to be open. And this God is, as one of our favorite hymns says “God of the sparrow, God of the whale, God of the swirling stars—God of the hungry, God of the sick, God of the prodigal—God of the rainbow, God of the cross, God of the empty grave.” And we are God’s children, we are the creatures who can respond to God’s love.
The story of Elijah and the Widow of Zarephath is important.
Because it reminds us who God is,
And that God can be found, always
In our midst.
It reminds us of who we can be,
With whatever we have.
It reminds us that we don’t always know
Or understand
Or see
the true reality around us.
It reminds us that we have been invited
Into partnership
With the One who promises:
That the ordinary can be extraordinary,
That life can be better than our wildest dreams,
That we are cherished and loved
Today and Every Day.
May it be so, Alleluia. Amen.
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