I have an interesting sermon looming ahead. In a few weeks, I will be
preaching on Elijah's great depression. This text has offered me much to think
about.
For
those of you who may not remember, Elijah went into a period of depression (I
would call it a deep depression) following his confrontation with the prophets
of Baal. I could not help but reflect upon the life of preachers as I read that
story.
Let
me offer you a peek into the world of a preacher. A lot of preachers I know
feel depressed on Mondays. I am an optimistic person by nature, but even I have
negative feelings on the typical Monday. Most Mondays, I feel down; some
Mondays, I feel downright melancholy.
Preaching
is a strange endeavor. It involves acute mental concentration, extensive
physical involvement, a high emotional commitment, and of course, it is by
definition a spiritual exercise.
Some
preachers I know preach three or four assemblies a Sunday. I preach two, but
each one is a different sermon. You add to that teaching a Bible class,
conducting meetings with guests who are interested in the church, as well as
other meetings that occur on Sunday—and by Sunday night, most of us feel
physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted.
Depending on how the day goes, we can either
feel exhilarated or deeply disappointed. For this reason, some preachers take
Monday off. I take Saturday off so I can be with my kids; consequently, Monday
is a full day. My feelings Monday characteristically range from “feeling down”
to a growing melancholy by the afternoon.
Interestingly
enough, the way I perceive how the sermon goes does not affect the outcome.
There have been times when I think everything went well, and I still feel down
the next day. At the very least, I always feel worn out.
I
usually feel the most tired on Tuesday. I get through the day, and sometime on
Tuesday afternoon, I pick up my second wind. I then move into the phase of the
week when I grow increasingly more alert. By Saturday night, I am oftentimes so
keyed up, I'll sleep only an hour or two, wake up, and sleep fitfully the rest
of the night.
I
don't want to preach my sermon now, but let me put in here the passage from I
Kings Chapter 19. Notice how Elijah feels:
1 Now Ahab told Jezebel everything Elijah had done and
how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. 2 So Jezebel sent a
messenger to Elijah to say, “May the gods deal with me, be it ever so severely,
if by this time tomorrow I do not make your life like that of one of them.”
3 Elijah was afraid and ran for his life. When he came
to Beersheba in Judah, he left his servant there, 4 while he himself went a
day’s journey into the desert. He came to a broom tree, sat down under it and
prayed that he might die. “I have had enough, LORD,” he said. “Take my life; I
am no better than my ancestors.” 5 Then he lay down under the tree and fell
asleep.
All at once an angel touched him and said,
“Get up and eat.” 6 He looked around, and there by his head was a cake of bread
baked over hot coals, and a jar of water. He ate and drank and then lay down
again.
7 The angel of the LORD came back a second time and
touched him and said, “Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you.” 8
So he got up and ate and drank. Strengthened by that food, he traveled forty
days and forty nights until he reached Horeb, the mountain of God. 9 There he
went into a cave and spent the night.
And the word of the LORD came to him: “What
are you doing here, Elijah?”
10 He replied, “I have been very zealous for the LORD
God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, broken 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.”
11 The LORD said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in
the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by.”
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. 12 After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in
the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. 13 When Elijah heard it, he
pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.
Then a voice said to him, “What are you
doing here, Elijah?”
14 He replied, “I have been very zealous for the LORD
God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, broken 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.”
15 The LORD said to him, “Go back the way you came,
and go to the Desert of Damascus. When you get there, anoint Hazael king over
Aram. 16 Also, anoint Jehu son of Nimshi king over Israel, and anoint Elisha
son of Shaphat from Abel Meholah to succeed you as prophet. 17 Jehu will put to
death any who escape the sword of Hazael, and Elisha will put to death any who
escape the sword of Jehu. 18 Yet I reserve seven thousand in Israel—all whose
knees have not bowed down to Baal and all whose mouths have not kissed him.”
Again,
I don't want to give away all that I have learned here. Not in this blog. However, I do
want to address a different reality. What I have been describing about
preachers has been going on for thousands of years. I don't see it changing.
Consequently, as my old Prof, Charles Siburt, used to say, I believe it is
essential now for us to “make reality our friend.”
More
than many realize, part of the Christian life is striving, feeling bad, feeling
melancholy, feeling depressed, and dealing with what we perceive is failure.
Notice I said, “perceive as failure.” Elijah’s depression followed the heels of
what we would call his most successful triumph for God.
In
light of that, here is something important to note: we do not have the
universal insight into the world or even into our lives that God has. We cannot
see the future. What we view as failure, God may view as success. Furthermore,
as my friend Steve Hemphill says, we must remember, “We play to an audience of
one.” He means—God. This understanding is essential.
It
is fascinating to me how many great men of God in Scripture end their
ministries and lives in what we would call failure. Everybody wants to go out
on top, but not many do.
Moses,
I'm sure with great embarrassment, died on a mountain overlooking the Promised
Land. Jeremiah probably died in exile from his homeland. John the Baptist died
a violent death after having served God in prison. Tradition tells us that Peter
died crucified upside down. Paul spent his last years under house arrest and,
ultimately, being executed (tradition says) by Rome.
People
usually do not throw triumphant parades in honor of God's men and God’s women
at the end of their lives. Few of us are sent to heaven in a chariot of fire…
and that's okay.
When
we signed on to do God's work, we signed on to do GOD’S WORK. We play to an
audience of one. As long as He is satisfied, that is enough.
Recently,
I saw the movie SOUL SURFER. I was struck by how, even as a young teenager, the
sensational surfer, Bethany Hamilton, had such a strong sense of discipleship.
Ultimately, she could say, in essence, you want my arm, God? Here–take my arm—use
it for the Kingdom.
My
goal for the rest of my life is to walk so closely with God that I can sense
when God feels pleasure–and, consequently, God's pleasure becomes my ultimate
motivation.
I
have resigned myself to moody Mondays. As long as I don’t let my feelings rule,
I think I am going to be okay. What is there to be depressed about?
With
God, “failure” is always an option.
Five
Things I Think I Think (with a nod to Peter King for this idea)
1. I have started reading GROWING UP COLT by Brad and Colt
McCoy. I’m thoroughly enjoying it. The part I most appreciate? How many times
Brad and his wife, Debra, had to spank Colt when he was growing up. There is
hope for all of our kids!
2. Speaking of kids, my family had a much needed diversion
at supper last week. Now, you’ve got to understand, I am usually focused at
supper on training my kids to at least half-way offer the appearance they have
table manners. At this stage, I’ve given up on them eating with the Queen of
England. All I want now is for them to be able to have a picnic without the
wild animals saying, “Hey, I think they're one of us!” Consequently, I probably
can get a little uptight at supper.
The
other night, one of the younger ones was sharing a joke from school. That
jogged the old memory bank, and I shared one from my school days. Do you
remember the story of “Pete and Repeat?”
“Pete
and Repeat,” I explained to them, “were brothers. Pete and Repeat went to the
candy store. Pete bought licorice; Repeat bought peppermint.”
“Now,
which brother bought the peppermint?”
Timothy
answered, “Repeat.”
“Okay,”
I said. “Pete and Repeat were brothers…”
Well,
you never heard laughing like my kids did when I told that joke. They said, “Tell
it again.” So I did. They laughed harder the second time. By then, they had me
going. Before long, all of us were laughing so hard, we were crying.
That
was a good reminder to me—sometimes, you need to just loosen up and laugh with
your kids.
3. Incidentally,
Timothy took the joke with him to school the next day. That night, he reported
to us at supper.
“How
did it go?” we asked.
“Not
good, nobody laughed.”
“Let
me hear you tell it,” I asked.
He
told the joke. Everything was perfect until the end. Instead of asking, “Which
brother bought the peppermint”, Timothy asked, “Now, what did Repeat buy?”
Morale:
if you’re going to tell an old joke, be sure to get the punch line right!
4. I loved seeing Boise State march
into Georgia and clean up on a SEC team.
5. Some of you read articles written
by Skip Hollandsworth of TEXAS MONTHLY. Skip is my second cousin. Last week,
Skip’s dad, Ned, passed away. Ned was a highly thought of preacher in the
Presbyterian fellowship for many, many years; he blessed a lot of lives,
including my own. For the past few years he battled Alzheimer’s. Rest in peace,
Ned.
