Why Are You Here?

For some reason today I really felt the weariness of Elijah the man of God, in reading 1 Kings 17-19. 

In chapter 17, Elijah proclaims a drought on Yahweh's authority. This is set up in the shadow of King Ahab's coming to power, who "did what was evil in the Lord's sight more than any of his predecessors," marrying the wicked Jezebel and serving Baal (1 Kings 16:30-34). After proclaiming the drought, the Lord sustains him in the Wadi Cherith, where he drinks and ravens bring him bread and meat. When the wadi runs dry, he goes to Sidon at the Lord's command, and demands a widow with her last morsel of food make him a cake. This widow was fully planning to eat and drink her last pathetic meal, and then succumb to death. The Lord, however, worked through the Elijah to ensure her flour and oil did not go empty. When her son falls sick and dies, Elijah brings him back to life (17.22). 

In chapter 18, the mighty prophet Elijah proves his mettle in going toe to toe with the prophets of Baal. King Ahab claims Elijah is a "disturber of Israel" (a nation that has gotten comfortable with worshipping both Ball and the Lord of Hosts), and Elijah fires back unapolgetically that it is the King who disturbs Israel by following the Baals (18:18). He demands the 450 prophets of Baal be summoned to show these his people--these "fence sitters"--who is Lord and God. He works a fantastic miracle by God's power, deferring to the priests of Baal to arrange their bull themselves for holocaust, and drenching his own alatr in water. He embarasses the prophets of Baal by their impotence, and the fire of the Lord consumes Elijah's saturated offering, proving beyond doubt that the Lord is God, and there is no room for the abobination of idolatry in his midst. Then he rounds up and slaughters the priests of Baal. 

In chapter 19, Elijah is spent. The last remaining prophet of the Lord in a land of abomination (18.22), and having worked mighty miracles and standing up to King Ahab and the 450 pagan priests, you would think he would have been fortified. Instead, he fears at the words of Jezebel who sought his life. He prays for death. "Enough, Lord! Take my life, for I am no better than my ancestors" (19.4). He rests a while, and eats and drinks the angelic rations provided to him; it is enough to strengthen him to make the 40 day trek to Mt. Horeb. When he arrives, he recountes all he has done for the righteousness of the Lord. And yet, the Lord asks him twice, 

Why are you here, Elijah?

Why are you here? I often pray the prayer of Samuel, "Here I am!" (1 Sam 3). It's short, to the point, and affirms a readiness to listen and serve. It affirms the zeal of Elijah, the last prophet standing, to do what is commanded.

But I'd be lying if I didn't have my moments where I also prayed the prayer of Elijah, the man of God: Lord, let me die. It is enough. You get weary. You get spent, discouraged, disgusted. There is the natural expiration of the widow--"let me eat my last meal and die" when her food runs out. But the longing for death by the prophet goes deeper: he is not let off the hook. Not permitted to expire while there is still work to do. He sees it as a respite, a temptation even. But then he shows up to the mountain, and the Lord asks him, Why are you here? Elijah, why. are. you. here?

This needs to be separated from the so called "dignity" of assisted suicide, in which a person desires to leave the earth by their own hand, to be the commander of their destiny, or to avoid the indignity of suffering and loss of bodily functions. Whatever the reason, a Catholic cannot follow this line of reasoning. The Lord is the author of life, and He determines when it ends. We cannot intentionally end our lives by suicide because it is not for us to decide. 

That being said, my wife and I have discussed if we were given a terminal diagnosis (cancer, say), is it permissible as a Catholic to refuse chemotherapy or other things that simply prolongue the inevitable? What is the right thing to do? This is why we have the Catechism but also bioethics to help explore and seek to answer these sometimes grey and complicated questions. I have caught myself on more than one occasion "Please Lord, if you want to take me, just take me. I love my wife and kids. But there's not much keeping me here except the work you need me to do. If you need to keep me around to do it, I will. But Lord, give me death, as long as I can be with you forever."

Why are you here? Speaking to myself: If it is to do the work of the Lord, then get back to it and quit your memento mori daydreaming. If you need a rest and a snack, so be it. But you're not going to get off easy. This is the weariness of the disciple, when he forgets the joy of following the precepts of the Lord and only tastes dryness and never ending expansiveness of the road. 

Why are you here? Lord please let me die. This world holds nothing for me, and it would just be so much to leave it behind. I'm tired. Take me how you choose, send what you will. Just let me not defect from your word. Lord I long for death, the respite from this life, but not my will but yours be done.

Why are you here? You worked miracles through Elijah, showed your mighty Hand, slaughtered the priests of Baal. I have done nothing, accomplished nothing, but I keep going out to the fields, your fields to do the work. Elijah calls down fire which consumes soaked wood. I pick grapes, one by one, fill my basket because you tell me to. I try not to complain, but then I find myself hot, thirsty, sunbruned...and the complaining finds me. When will the work end, Lord? How long, my life? Can't I be with you now? I don't know how. I seek you in this life and am covered with noise, blasphemies, and idolatry at every turn. I am here because I want to see your holy Face, do your will. How long do I have to stay here? How long, O Lord?