The story of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath got me to thinking about scarcity and abundance, and about what is “enough.”
Enough
1 Kings 17:8-24; Psalm 146
Two sermons emerged for me this week from the passage about Elijah and the widow of Zarephath. The first one is inspiring and the second one is troubling. Inspiration first.
There is enough.
Again and again in the Bible we are reminded of the extravagance of God’s creation, God’s grace, and God’s providence. Time and again hungry people are fed – by quails and manna in the Old Testament, and by loaves and fishes in the New. People who offer hospitality, like this widow, are rewarded with unlimited food (in this case, a jar of meal that was no emptied and a jug of oil that did not fail.) [1 Kings 17:16]
Believing that there is “enough” is a powerful force in our lives. When we believe there is enough, we are likely to be cheerful, generous, and optimistic. Contrariwise, when we believe there is not enough, we are likely to be cranky, selfish, and pessimistic.
The widow from Zarephath begins by worrying that there is not enough. Her worry nearly causes her to neglect one of the primary obligations of life in the ancient Middle East, which was to offer shelter and food to travelers and strangers. Using those words we often hear from angels (Do not be afraid), Elijah gently convinces her to make him a little cake of the meal and oil. Her first reward is, as I said a moment ago, unlimited supplies of flour and oil. Her second reward is the miraculous healing of her son.
The problem with interpreting the story this way is that it can easily lead you to believe that doing good deeds is the road to material reward. Some of you may have encountered preachers who proclaim a “Gospel of Prosperity,” which asserts that God wants you to be wealthy, and if you will believe that fervently enough and work hard enough, riches will come to you. It is true that you can find examples in the Bible where virtue is rewarded … but it is also true that we all know a great many cases in which the only reward for virtue is, as the saying goes, virtue itself.
That leads me to the troubling sermon. I am troubled that I live with a faith that proclaims that God provides enough for all people, and yet I live in an economic system that doesn’t work that way.
I remember taking basic economics in college, and being startled by the definition of economics: the allocation of scarce resources. Capitalism works because some goods and services are scarce, and it doesn’t work very well if everything is abundant. Communism and Socialism have tried to even out the distribution of wealth, often without great success.
Please do not lean forward in your seats and start taking notes; I am not going to say anything that will really resolve this underlying and troublesome contradiction in our lives. I have no solution to this dilemma.
But I do have a suggestion: live like the widow, and give what God’s asks from you.
Lend you behavior, your voice, and your energy, as often as you can, in support of the abundance side. And lend your behavior, your voice, and your energy, as often as you can, to gently refute the scarcity side.
What this strategy will do is to make you aware of how often we are invited, encouraged, and bullied into believing in scarcity and acting in selfishness. It happens in the marketplace, which shouldn’t surprise us, I guess. But it also happens in public life, in the political arena, and about issues as varied as a Spanish translator for Northfield, a football stadium for the Vikings, or medical care for wounded military veterans. The discussion is almost never about what is the best, most compassionate, most generous ways we can meet the needs of our community; it is almost always a lament about what we can “afford” and what we can’t.
Now before you take a deep breath of relief, let’s confess together that this point of view is possible because I am a white, well-educated North American who has never faced a night without shelter, a day without food, or a future without possibilities. I am, as most of you are, richer than the vast majority of humans who have ever lived, and most of those who are alive now. It is pretty easy for me to preach about “abundance.”
I don’t think it helps to feel guilty about any of that, but it does help to be honest about it. It does help to recognize that we cannot really talk about economic justice unless we are willing to listen to the voices of our brothers and sisters whose labor really is exploited, whose efforts are really not appreciated, and whose skills are really not rewarded.
And it also helps to remember together that God’s promises of abundance are usually made in the plural and not in the singular. We lose that in most English translations of the Bible, because in English, the word “you” is both singular and plural. We have been quick to hear God speaking to us individually, and much slower to hear God speaking to us as communally, as part of communities and communities of faith.
For those of us who grew up in the United States, it is easy to believe that being a Christian is just part of the culture. We expect our Christian values to be in line with the values of the world around us. We do not expect to be counter-cultural people. And yet …. we are.
As followers of Jesus Christ, we do not believe that some people deserve to be enormously wealthy while others are in need; we do not believe that scarcity is a good and necessary thing; we do not believe that important decisions should be made primarily on the basis of their cost.
And if we should find ourselves waffling on those convictions, reading Psalm 146 will make our faith firm again – affirm and confirm who we are. The ancient poet reminds us of the character of God: the one who created heaven and earth, the one who executes justice for the oppressed, gives food to the hungry, sets prisoners frees, opens the eyes of the blind, and lifts up those who are bowed down. This is the God whom we love, whom we worship, and whom we serve. And this is the God who does not let us be inspired without also troubling us, nor to be troubled without also inspiring us.
Prayer for June 6, 2010
Almighty and everlasting God, creator of all things seen and unseen, hear now our silent prayers, as we open our hearts to you in the sacred quietness.
God of faith and hope, we bring before you our prayers for those we have named this morning – we especially remember … Bring to each of them the gifts of mercy and grace that are most needed, according to your wisdom and love.
God of our hearts and minds, this morning we offer our prayers for those circumstances in our lives that we cannot usually bring ourselves to say aloud. Help us to name before you and one another the disappointments, shames, sorrows, and shortcomings that eat away at our faith and our wellbeing.
We pray for our relationships that are conflicted, dispirited, or unfulfilling.
We pray for ourselves and our loved ones who live with mental illness.
We pray for ourselves and our loved ones who live with chronic health conditions.
And we pray for those who live with them, care for them, and advocate for them.
We pray for those whose access to health care is limited by finances, geography, or prejudice.
We pray for everyone who has been betrayed, cheated, or defrauded.
We pray this morning for those who live with addictions and alcoholism.
We pray for those who are estranged from their loved ones.
We pray for those who have lost their employment, and those who have not been able to begin their work lives because they cannot find a job.
And since our miseries are often accompanied by economic challenges, we pray for wisdom about money, time, and emotional energy.
Finally, we pray for the secrets of our hearts that we can speak only to you.
All of these things we pray in the name of the one who listens with loving attention to all of our sorrows, and who bears them with us, even Jesus the Christ, and we pray together now in the words that he taught us …
(May 31, 2009, August 23, 2009, October 11, 2009, Jan 17 2009))

United Church of Christ (national site)