We’re reading the 2nd Book of Kings in our lectionary this 11th week of the year. Easy to dismiss these readings about wicked kings and prophets with strange sounding names and skip over to Matthew and the words of Jesus or some devotional prayers. 

The 2nd Book of Kings is the last part of what commentators call “Deuteronomistic History.” It tells the story of the settlement of the land by the Jews under Joshua until the downfall of the kingdoms of Israel and Judah and their eventual exile.

Overall, both 1 and 2 Kings paint a discouraging picture of Jewish kings and the political side of the time. In Monday’s reading, King Ahab and his wife Jezebel murder Naboth to grab the vineyard he owns, an example of the flagrant abuse of political power that took place then. Further readings from 1 and 2 Kings indicate it didn’t end there.

How about now ? Deuteronomistic History is Sacred History–it happens again. Take a look around.

The Prophet Elijah confronts Ahab and Jezebel in Tuesday’s reading. He’s a lonely voice for God’s judgment, other prophets are not brave enough to speak out. Yet, even as Elijah condemns, we see signs of God’s mercy when Ahab repents. We may think the political world today is insulated from God’s grace, but is that true? We have to pray for those in government and in the political world; God speaks to them too.

In Wednesday’s reading there’s another lesson from Sacred History. Elisha takes on the mantle of Elijah. Another prophet appears in the land and is given power over kings and a voice to speak to the time. Lonely prophets–or is it prophetic movements?– are always there. God sends his prophets.

Ultimately, time is in God’s hand. All time. History evolves according to God’s plan.  Where are the lonely prophets or prophetic movements today? Take a look around.

For this week’s homily please watch the video below.

Moses led the people out of the camp to meet God,
and they stationed themselves at the foot of the mountain.
Mount Sinai was all wrapped in smoke,
for the LORD came down upon it in fire. 
The smoke rose from it as though from a furnace,
and the whole mountain trembled violently.
The trumpet blast grew louder and louder, while Moses was speaking
and God answering him with thunder. Exodus 19: 9-20

From a mountain aflame and loud with thundering trumpetsGod renewed his covenant with his people after they left Egypt and made their grumbling way through the desert. It was the covenant God made with Abraham and their descendants after him.

Later, Elijah on the run came to this mountain.

“At the mountain of God, Horeb,
Elijah came to a cave, where he took shelter.
But the word of the LORD came to him,
“Go outside and stand on the mountain before the LORD.” (1 Kings 19, 11-16)

Some 60 years ago, as a younger man I climbed that mountain, Sinai, on a memorable pilgrimage with Fr. Donald Senior. We rose about 2 AM to begin the climb in the dark, guided up the rocky winding path by a guide with a flashlight. Bedouins offered a camel ride for anyone who couldn’t make it, almost 7,000 feet up.

We arrived at the barren top at sunrise. I remember the silence of the place, the bare rock, the absence of plants or trees or any sign of life. No thundering sounds like those our reading describes today. The guide pointed to a speck of green down aways, “Elijah’s cave,” he said. We left before the sun was high; too hot to stay there long.

Elijah was told to “stand outside on the mountain before the Lord,” and he experienced a strong wind, an earthquake, fire, but God was not in any of these. Then, in the silence, he heard a “tiny whispering sound” and he hid his face before God.

“A tiny whispering sound.” That’s the way God spoke to Elijah and that’s the way God most often speaks to us. Elijah pours out his woes to God. A fugitive, fighting for his life, with no chance against Ahab and Jezebel.

But God whispers to Elijah. Go down the mountain and go north again. Your enemies won’t stop you. There’s a mission I have for you; I’ll be with you. In the silence Elijah heard God.

In the silence of the Eucharist today, God also whispers. “This is the chalice of my blood, of the new covenant.”

We’re reading at Mass this week about the prophet Elijah. He was the lone prophet to confront King Ahab and his notorious wife Jezebel, rulers of the northern kingdom of Israel who promoted the worship of Baal, the god of rain and healing. Elijah as the “disturber of Israel” spent much of his time eluding the king’s forces and fleeing from place to place. Like Moses fleeing from Pharaoh, Elijah sought refuge in mountains, like Horeb and Carmel, places of God’s strength and protection.

Our readings from the lectionary this week offer a few key stories of his life. On Monday, Elijah proclaims to Ahab a drought in Israel because of its infidelity. No rain will fall, he says, and then he flees to a small watering hole east of the Jordan where he’s fed by ravens. (above) 

That watering hole dries up, and Elijah flees to Zarephath of Sidon where a widow cares for him (Tuesday). 

After three years, Elijah returns to confront Ahab and Jezebel. In Wednesday’s reading he calls for a dramatic test between Baal and the God of Israel. Who can bring rain, Baal or the God of Israel? All the people along with the priests of Baal gather on Mount Carmel, where Elijah resoundingly defeats the priests of Baal and their god of rain and healing. 

Elijah announces to Ahab in the name of God that rain is coming. (Thursday) As he waits in prayer on Mount Carmel, poor Elijah, ”crouched down to the earth, his head between his knees,” and wonders if rain really will come. Seven times he asks his servant if there is any sign. “Nothing.” Then there’s a cloud as small as a man’s hand rising from the sea. A little cloud is all he sees.  All around the land is parched and lifeless. Hard to see any promise in a small far-off cloud.

A picture for today, isn’t it? Elijah is us all waiting for the promises of God to be accomplished, while we only see tiny distant clouds in a menacing world. 

The rains came, in abundance, but then Elijah must face the wrath of Jezebel who orders his death. And so, in our readings for Friday, Elijah flees to Mount Horeb, the same mountain where Moses experienced God in thunder and lightning. Elijah experiences God, not in thunder and lightning, but in a tiny whisper. He pours out his complaints to God and in answer, God sends him on a new mission to the north. He is to appoint a king and also a successor for himself.

Some saw Jesus as Elijah returned, and so Elijah often appears in the New Testament, particularly in the account of Jesus’ transfiguration on the mountain where his glory and mission are revealed. Like Elijah, Jesus had no official backing either, no army, no political base. Powerful people sought his life, though his kingdom was not of this world. Yet, God’s surprising power was on his side. Elijah has influenced prophets and mystics ever since. We can learn from him.

We reflected on the journeys of St. Paul from the Acts of the Apostles in the Easter season. Now we reflect on the journey of the saints.

Paul’s journeys, as Luke the author of Acts sees them, are a way the gospel reaches one city after another. They are also a way it reaches the many dimensions of our world. Through Paul, the women praying along the river in Thessaloniki receive God’s word. Prisoners in a jail in Philippi hear it. Philosophers in Athens hear it. Immigrants in the port city of Corinth hear it.

The saints we celebrate in our church calendar continue Paul’s journey. They reach out to the world like he did and bring the gospel to other parts of society. Justin Martyr (June 1) speaks to the philosophers of Rome, Charles Lwanga and his companions (June 3) the African continent, Boniface (June 5) to western Europe. Agnes, Lucy, Cecilia, Anastasia, early women martyrs, are the daughters of the women of Thessaloniki. The saints, old and new, in the calendar or not, continue the mission of Paul. Jesus Christ gave this mission to him. They call us to accompany them. 

We celebrate the saints mostly on the dates of entrance into heaven, not in historical order, which may get in the way of historical perspective. But the saints, canonized or not, are the agents of the Holy Spirit. They move the world towards harvest time.

We share in their mission. A verse from the psalms keeps coming to me these days.  “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain wisdom of heart.” 

We are reading from chapter 12 in Mark’s Gospel this week. From Galilee where Jesus was welcomed by the people and where so much of his ministry and miracles occurred, Mark presents Jesus traveling to Jericho and then up to Jerusalem where he faces harsh questioning from the Jerusalem authorities. Eventually they put him to death; then he will rise. (Mk 11:1–16:8) 

Our readings this week bring us to Jerusalem, where Mark sees Jesus as the “beloved Son” sent into the vineyard, whom they seize and kill and throw out of the vineyard. ( Mark 12:1-11) In Mark’s Gospel Jesus works only one miracle in Jerusalem, the cursing of the fig tree. (Mark 11: 12-14,20-21) So different from John’s Gospel where important miracles, like the raising of Lazarus and the cure of the man born blind, are signs that witness to Jesus.

Mark’s portrayal of Jesus shows us his humanity. He’s provoked by the hypocrisy of the scribes and their questions. He’s annoyed at their efforts to entrap him. “In human likeness” he will suffer and die.

Fra Angelico’s painting of Peter preaching and Mark sitting among his listeners taking notes comes from a long held belief that Mark’s Gospel was influenced by Peter. Mark’s mother lived in Jerusalem, so he must have been known the city well. It did not receive Jesus well.

Even disciples, like Peter, did not fully understand Jesus as he made his way into Jerusalem. One will betray him, Judas; one deny him. Peter; all eleven men will leave him. Yet, he will eat his Last Supper with them, and after this resurrection call them to Galilee where he will reveal himself to them, risen from the dead.