What Are We Doing Here?

“And the word of the Lord came to him: ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’” (1 Kings 19:9)

There is a lot of noise in the world. People shout. People bloviate. People rage. People predict catastrophe. People compete to see who can be the loudest, angriest, most offended, or most afraid. Sometimes it feels a little like Shakespeare’s famous description: “full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

Elijah knew something about noise. He had just experienced one of the greatest victories of his ministry on Mount Carmel. But after Jezebel threatened his life, Elijah ran. Eventually, he found himself hiding in a cave, convinced that everything had fallen apart. And God asked him a remarkable question:

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

Elijah responded with what sounds suspiciously like “poor pitiful me.” I have been faithful. Everybody else has abandoned You. I’m the only one left. And now they’re trying to kill me.

There was truth in Elijah’s complaint. He really had been faithful. There really were people who wanted him dead. But Elijah had allowed his circumstances to distort his perspective. So God gave him a lesson.

There was a mighty wind, but the Lord was not in the wind. There was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. There was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. Then came a gentle whisper.

Maybe that is something we desperately need to remember. The Lord isn't necessarily in the loudness.

God isn't obligated to participate in the cultural shouting, bloviating, rumbling, and burning that surrounds us. Volume is not the same thing as truth, and outrage is not the same thing as righteousness. But God also isn't found in our carefully constructed “poor pitiful me” narratives. Sometimes we use our wounds, disappointments, and difficulties to convince ourselves, and perhaps others, that we deserve special treatment. Elijah's circumstances were difficult, but God would not allow Elijah's difficulties to become his identity.

And God wasn't fooled by the cave. Elijah could hide from Jezebel. He couldn't hide from God. And neither can we.

We can hide in fear. We can hide in busyness. We can hide in anger. We can hide in disappointment. We can even hide behind legitimate wounds. But eventually God's question finds us: “What are you doing here?”

Then comes the whisper. You are not a victim. You are not alone. You are not without community. And you are certainly not without God. Elijah thought he was the last one standing. God told him there were 7,000 others who had not bowed to Baal. 

Elijah thought his ministry was finished. God essentially said, “Get up. Go back. I still have work for you to do.” There were people Elijah hadn't met yet. There was an Elisha waiting to join him. There was a community Elijah couldn't see. And there was a God who had never left him.

Maybe God's question isn't really about Elijah's location. Maybe it is about Elijah's calling. “What are you doing here?”