Friday, June 14, 2024

Friday of the Tenth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 363

A voice said to him, "Elijah, why are you here?"
He replied, "I have been most zealous for the LORD,
the God of hosts.
But the children of Israel have forsaken your covenant,
torn down your altars,
and put your prophets to the sword.
I alone am left, and they seek to take my life."


I don't believe I can respond well to Elijah's loneliness. He is more like today's legendary superheroes than a man to sit down and have a personal conversation. No one would want to have a beer with him, or expect to play golf. His loneliness is epic, like everything else in his story. 

But it's also familiar. Who hasn't known loneliness? 

I've spent many hours of my life alone, and some of them were lonely. An introvert, I prefer solitude to groups of people; I delight in quiet conversation and avoid parties like the plague. But loneliness is neither solitude nor companionship. It's a different place, perhaps like Mount Horeb.

I'm told people die of loneliness. Certainly, America's sweeping epidemics of chemical abuse, violence, and suicide germinate in the profound distress of loneliness. I've read of men who go to the tavern, pick a fight with larger men, and are beaten half to death, just to escape the feeling. I've been lonely, but never that lonely. 

As Elijah took shelter in a cave, he heard the terrific wind, fire, and earthquake. He was as ferocious as anything the elements could throw at him. He could not be bothered with them. He'd seen enough excitement; that thirst was slaked when he personally cut the throats of several hundred priests of Baal. 

I have noticed that depression follows excitement; when I decided to pass up exciting opportunities, I grew familiar with boredom and the opportunities it offers; like reading, music, hobbies, and conversation. I often write with only the vague hope that someone might read what I write. These pursuits are not as exhausting as excitement, and leave a residue of satisfaction. 

If God is everywhere, he is especially there in our loneliness. But it takes a while to realize that, for he is very quiet. His presence bears a strong resemblance to absence and the lonely feel his absence. 

I have found that loneliness cannot be shared. I find no companionship in reading poems written in loneliness. I don't know what the poet is talking about, even when they tell me its loneliness. 

There's no remedy for it because it's not a disease. But I have found, in befriending loneliness, in letting it sit on my head, it leaves a memory of God's having been there after all. 



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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.

Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.

I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.

You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.