The Road to Shalom

"Elijah Under the Zoom Tree"

• Fran Sciacca • Season 2 • Episode 5

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Did you know Elijah was facing a pandemic…of sorts? Did you know that Elijah quarantined himself after he spent some time under the zoom tree?** During these “unprecedented” times, there’s a word for us from our ancient past. I don’t think God wants us to miss the point, at just the time when He’s trying to make one. Life will be different after the pandemic. Will we? Will you? We don’t have to social distance with God. He’s not sick, and what we have, He can’t catch.

**(the name of the actual tree Elijah was under began with a consonant from the other end of the alphabet. All appearances of being clever in this episode title are purely intentional.)
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OTHER  RESOURCES BY FRAN SCIACCA:

Hi, I’m Fran Sciacca, the host of the Road to Shalom. For those of you who’ve been with me for a while, I’m glad to be back. For those of you who are new to the road we’re on, this podcast is dedicated to exploring the way things are supposed to be, how and why they’re not, and how we might find our way back on the road.

I know for sure that I don’t have to tell any of you that things aren’t the way they’re supposed to be. Things aren’t the way they used to be either, are they? We’ve all been inundated with more data than we can handle, more misinformation than we can fact check, and countless, hilarious memes about something that in itself actually isn’t funny at all. 

We’ve all had some shared experiences during our sheltering in place. Like an unprecedented use of the word “unprecedented.” And most of us have also endured the painfully time-stopping, often boring, and absolutely over-used tool with the oxymoronic name of “Zoom.” 

From this time forward, none of us will ever think of scuba-diving when we hear the word, “face-mask,” or think first that “corona” is a beer choice during Cinco de Maÿo. And we’ll all know what PPE stands for, even though some might not know what PVC is. Make no mistake, as a guy who’s going to be 70 in a few months, I have to say that in my lifetime, COVID-19 will be right up there with Halley’s Comet. Once in a lifetime sort of stuff. At least I hope so.

Just for the record, I know that I sorta dropped off the planet after the last episode of this podcast. But to be fair, none of you checked in on me to see if I was still alive, so I think we’re even. Back in March we were in the middle of a series exploring how the American Church wandered off the Road to Shalom. And just so ya know, I’m planning on getting us back into that series very soon. But, in the meantime, I really felt like it would be prophetically timely to throw a few thoughts your way that I think are important. Perhaps even essential. Okay, so let’s jump in…

I want to begin with a pithy comment made by a 10th century B.C. Hebrew named Koholeth. He said, “It is better to be in the house of mourning than to be in the house of feasting. For this is the end of all mankind, and the living will take it to heart.” [Ecc. 7:2] Or, to modernize it, “It’s better to be at a funeral service than a restaurant because that’s where we’re all headed…no exceptions.” Funerals aren’t speed bumps for most of us. They’re more like, pull the car over. Turn off the engine. And think. Think about life. Think about death. Think about what I want to hear when I’m eulogized. But, as a teacher who had 14 students or former students die in a 14-year span, I also know that people tend to leave the “house of mourning” relatively unaffected. We all want to pull our car back on the life’s highway and get back into sixth gear.

This pandemic has landed all of us in the “house of mourning.” It is impossible to identify a single person, place, or thing that has not felt the sting of this invisible enemy. The whole planet is living under siege. Captives with very little freedom, submerged beneath unending reports of deaths, disorder, and division. The American Dream has been quarantined. Humanity’s in this together. Perhaps like never before. But what about us? What about the people of the Book? What about people of faith? What’s going to be our story when this chapter ends? What will we have learned…for real?

Well, the jury’s in on that one, and…well, let’s just say that the biblical narrative doesn’t paint us as the sharpest knives in the drawer, when it comes to paying attention. Probably the best passage on our tendency to miss the point when God’s working really hard to make one, is Yeshua’s answer to the Pharisees in Matthew 16:3. He basically said you guys are great at predicting the weather based on what you can see. But, you’re totally inept when it comes to figuring out what God’s doing right in front of you. So why would I bring that verse into this discussion? Well, I’m concerned that we too might be missing what’s been set before us. Or perhaps even gifted to us…by God. Now, for the record, I’m not even remotely suggesting that God’s the author of this. But, this hot mess IS global, and for that reason alone, he’s “in it” for sure, even though his return address isn’t on the package that brought it.

I want to play just a bit with another word that’s become a mandatory component of all daily news and dialogue, right along with “unprecedented.” And that’s the word, “Zoom.” During the past 8 weeks or so, toilet paper and flour have been “zooming” off the shelves. And people have been zooming to Zoom. We have zoom meetings for everything from family dinners to the Supreme Court. From book clubs to Passover seders. Don’t mishear me here. I’m not a Zoomaphile or a Zoomaphobe, and I’ve only made a couple visits to Zoomopolis myself. Zoom’s been a great asset—perhaps on the level of a blessing—for many people in a ton of situations. But, in all our zooming, I fear we’re doing very little blooming, if I could be a little poetic. 

I’ve got a couple very provocative thoughts from a wide array of writers and eras that I’d like to lay out on the table, and then try to piece them together into a picture that I want to be helpful for any of you within the sound of my voice.

The first is from Sherry Turkle, a veteran professor at MIT, from her book, “Alone Together: Why We Expect More From Technology and Less From Each Other.” She says, 

“My own study of the networked life has left me thinking about intimacy—about being with people in person, hearing their voices and seeing their faces, trying to know their hearts. And it has left me thinking about solitude—the kind that refreshes and restores. Loneliness is failed solitude. To experience solitude you must be able to summon yourself by yourself; otherwise, you will only know how to be lonely.”

I want to replay that last idea for you: Loneliness is failed solitude. To experience solitude you must be able to summon yourself by yourself; otherwise, you will only know how to be lonely.”

I think there’s a lot of us that have mistaken an opportunity for solitude as the threat of loneliness. And if we have, it’s because we’ve not experienced or pursued solitude before. The pandemic has made us manic for connection with people. But, what if God purposes at least part of it, to be an opportunity to learn how to recognize and pay attention to his voice? What if he really wants a little less Zooming and a lot more blooming? At least when it comes to our own soul care?

The second idea is ancient, not modern. From about 800 years before Yeshua. In the book of First Kings, we hear of an encounter the prophet Elijah had with Yahweh in the wilderness. Elijah had his own pandemic going. It was a queen named Jezebel, and she had posted on Instagram that she was going to nail his rear end to the garage wall within twenty-four hours. Elijah quarantined himself in a desert cave, depressed and not too hopeful. Suddenly, all around Elijah there were bone-rattling noises. Loud noises. We’re talking rocks cracking and splitting from an powerful wind, an earthquake shaking Elijah’s very feet, and finally explosive fire from heaven. Then, after the dust had settled, we are told there was a fourth noise. If you could even call it a noise. The Hebrew words that describe it call it, “a thin silence;” a “gentle and subdued voice.” And you want to know something amazing? Elijah recognized this “thin silence? He recognized it! It was familiar to him. He had heard it before. And, he recognized it as the voice of God. So, what does he do? I mean, what would you do? He walked out of the cave to talk with God. Now hold onto that thought. I need to put another puzzle piece on the table.

Another Hebrew poet we only know as one of the “sons of Korah,” gives us our third idea in Psalm 46:10 - “Be still and know that I am God.” The verb for “being still” is quite beautiful. It carries within it the idea of letting go, letting your arms drop to your sides, a bird folding its wings. To relax, and quite spending all your energy. Sort of like the difference between Martha smashing away in the kitchen while Mary had “stilled” herself at the feet of Jesus. I wonder if there’s a relationship between the two verbs in this tiny verse. Between being “still” and “knowing” that God is God?” Or let me push this idea in a little more, till it gets a little uncomfortable. If we’re not “still,” can God still be God…in our lives? Does it take stillness for everything that’s NOT God, to fall off our shelf of importance? Elijah was quarantined for sure. But, he also knew how to “be still.” And in his stillness—in the absence of competing noise—he could listen and hear a familiar voice. The voice of God. As a result, he knew that God was God, and that Jezebel was not. How about us? Do we? Do you?

One final puzzle piece. About 35 years ago, the late Henri Nouwen made a profound statement that weaves together, Turkle, Elijah, and the sons of Korah. Nouwen said, “A life without a lonely place, that is, a life without a quiet center, easily becomes destructive.”

Beloved, in all our zooming, Web-Xing, Goggle Hangouting, FaceTiming, and MicroSoft Grouping, where is our quiet center? Is our fear of being alone really a fear of being lonely, because we don’t understand the difference? Is it a testimony that we don’t understand the value and place of solitude in the life of faith? Do we understand the difference between loneliness and solitude? Do we want to?

God made a sobering judgment and lavish promise through the lips of Isaiah that speaks to our zoom and doom culture right now: 

“Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare. Incline your ear, and come to me; hear me, that your soul may live;”   (Isaiah 55:2–3)

God tells his people they’re living lives of frenzy and unfulfillment. Three times in this short passage God points to himself. He invites his people to “listen,” to “incline their ear,” to “hear him.” Why? What does God want for his people. He wants their soul to live.

The Hebrew word, “shama” is in these two verses three times. It’s the word “hear”. We think of it as “listen.” But the most vital thing to get right here is that in the Hebrew world, it was assumed we should listen because it was God who was speaking. God is inviting his people to pay attention to him. To be still and know that he is God. To stop paying attention to the winds, and earthquakes, and fires, and to start straining to hear that thin, gentle, voice.

When this pestilence has passed, I am quite sure that life will not be the same. It will be familiar, but the landscape each of us finds ourselves walking within will be different. Forever. How are we going to be different? Are we going to tell our children and grandchildren how we coped during the pandemic, or what we discovered? What if you were able to tell your posterity how you learned to recognize God’s thin, gentle voice? What if you were able to tell them you learned how to listen during the pandemic? What if, during all our social distancing, we drew closer to God? James tells us that if we draw near to God, he will draw near to us. Social distancing isn’t necessary with God. He’s not sick, but he might be contagious.

I’d like to nudge you into some quiet spaces for the next two weeks. Journal. Walk alone and think (no earbuds). Read Scripture. Psalm 3, Isaiah 41, Romans 8 are great places to begin. In the world of Zoom, create some room…for the One who rejoices over you with singing. Shalom.