Sep 13 2019 1 Kings 18: 20-40

They limped about the altar that they had made.

This morning’s Hebrew Scripture reading is all about Elijah talking to the people whose loyalties and faith are split between Elijah’s God, and Baal. He throws down a dare, that his God can perform more acts of disbelief than Baal. He suggests that two altars be built, one to God and the other to Baal. If Baal is the powerful God, follow Baal, otherwise, follow the God of Abraham. The two altars are built, and when the people cry out to Baal, nothing happens to them or the altar. When they cry out to God, the fire of the Lord fell and consumed the offering and the altar itself. The people were amazed and abandoned their silent Baal and followed God.

But before the pyrotechnic show, we read that they ‘limped about the altar they had made’. This conjured for me a funny image, and made me think about how we do the same thing.

We split our loyalties too, putting our trust partially in God and partially elsewhere. Sunday morning, we’re all in. We talk about God, and respect, and love, and mercy. As soon as we leave church, we turn and trust something else. Most often, it seems, it’s our own capabilities or power. Or maybe it’s the societal norms – fame, money, winning. Whatever it is, we limp around that altar, crying out to the nonresponsive silent god. Meanwhile, our true God and savior waits. God waits to be invited into our non-Sunday-morning lives to alight the fires of our otherwise unburnt altars.

In my world now, I find myself putting my trust in my ability to make order of my home, work and world. But with this really sick loved one living in my small apartment, I’m virtually ineffective at doing that. I find myself limping around the altar I’ve built – one that values self-sufficiency, logic, order, mutual respect and love. But I cannot make order or manage barely anything in my home, work or world, at least not on my own. Instead of calling out ant waiting for that other god to show up, perhaps I should cry out to the God who always has, and is present still. 

This morning, I’m thinking about the altars I build, that I limp around, and await a response from a silent and ineffective god. When things are not going as I planned, perhaps I’ve been crying out to that other god, the one I’ve constructed about the way I think things should happen. Whenever, or at least for today, I find myself grousing about how things aren’t as I think they should be, I’m going to imagine me limping around the altar, while the true God is right over there, ready to consume the offering and the altar.