The story of the kings of the Northern Kingdom of Israel makes our political fears and concerns pale by comparison. King after king arises, does evil in the sight of the Lord, and fails to care for the people of God, resulting in one catastrophe after another. Arguably, King Ahab, the son of Omri, is the worst. In fact, Scripture says he “did more to provoke the Lord, the God of Israel, to anger than all the kings of Israel who were before him.” So, the prophet Elijah is tasked with speaking the Word of the Lord to Ahab, and what he has to say is not what the king wants to hear. He promises a drought which will bring about a great famine in the land. He says to Ahab, “As the Lord, the God of Israel, lives… there shall be neither dew nor rain these years, except by my Word,” and the skies were sealed, the moisture withdrew, and death began to rule the land.

The Lord then sends the prophet Elijah to the land of Zarephath. There, he meets a widow who is out gathering sticks to make a fire. He, presumably fleeing death, meets this woman and asks for some water to drink. With great compassion, she heads off to graciously help this stranger, but he calls back to her again. He says, “Hey, can you bring me a morsel of bread.” And here, at this moment, we learn how not only is he fleeing from death, but he has come to death as well. She answers him, “As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug. And now I am gathering a couple of sticks that I may go in and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it and die.” She had enough for one final meal. She was gathering the sticks for the fire to bake the bread. This was all she had left. The meal she was preparing was to be the end of not only her life but the life of her son as well.

Death meets death, need meets need, what good can come from this? Truly it is a picture of despair, except that into this meeting, into their need, into their world of death there comes a promise from God. It is a promise which seems too good to be true, too wonderful to be hoped for. “Do not fear; go and do as you have said. But first make me a little cake of it and bring it to me, and afterward make something for yourself and your son. For thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, ‘The jar of flour shall not be spent, and the jug of oil shall not be empty, until the day that the Lord sends rain upon the earth.’” An unending gift, a supply of life provided by the Word of God, it is an incredible story. Perhaps we might use this to focus on our own giving and the provisions of God. It can be a challenge of sorts to trust the Father as we generously give from what He has provided, trusting He will not let our jar and jug be emptied out, and also an encouragement to be like the widow and give not out of our abundance but our all.

But there is more to it than that. There is something profound about the meeting of death pictured here. Many years ago, I knew a pastor who was going through a really challenging time. He had made a complete mess of his life, and he knew it. His relationship with his wife was hanging by a thread. There had been too many years of too much neglect and damage that he could not seem to find a way forward. He had all but failed his children. Though they were raised in the Church, went through Sunday School, and sat in confirmation classes, they now rarely went to church. On the outside, he was a fine pastor. He was liked by the congregation and the church was doing fine, but as I got to know him, I learned he was haunted with doubts and insecurities. He felt like a fraud, a man unworthy to preach the Word of God.

Then, on one particularly difficult day, a day where he teetered on the verge of just leaving it all or worse, he received a call from a hospice nurse that one of his members was nearing those final moments of her life. Not so much out of compassion but rather out of habit, he said he would be on his way. He changed his clothes and put on his clerical collar, gathered his portable communion set and little agenda containing the services for such situations and made his way to the hospice facility. When he entered the room, it was in every way a meeting of death. Death met death. Sure, the world may have only seen one who was dying, but the truth is, he was no less dying than that elderly saint whose shallow breathing was all you could hear. He felt hollow and empty, with nothing to offer her in her time of need. And she had no ability to come to his aid either. She was tired, tired of being confined to a bed, tired of being alone, tired of living.

Yet, this pastor did what he was called to do. He opened the little book to the “Commendation of the Dying” and began to recite the words. He moved through it with little emotion until he got to the litany of the dying, a beautiful prayer meant to be spoken responsively. Since he was alone, he prayed both parts himself. “O Lord, have mercy. O Christ, have mercy. O Lord, have mercy.” He paused as tears welled up in his eyes. He pressed on, “That You deliver Your servant from all evil and from eternal death, we implore You to hear us, good Lord. That You forgive all her sins, we implore You to hear us, good Lord. That You give her refreshment and everlasting blessing, we implore You to hear us, good Lord.” As he read, he began to realize he was not just praying for her, he was praying for himself too. Together, these two locked in death, in doubt, in trial and suffering were pleading with God.

And there in that place of death a Word of life took hold. As he began to tell her about the love of Christ and the promise of eternal life, it was like he was hearing it himself for the first time in a long while. In their death and need there was no hope, no solution, no real path forward. But in the Word of the Lord, in the gifts of Christ their need, even their death becomes the means through which they would serve one another. The jar that does not empty, the jug that always has more to give is the grace of God. So, perhaps what we ought to take from this text is that it is not found or experienced alone. The inexhaustible grace of God is not found in our solitude, but together, in our provisions and care for each other.

We experience this in the embrace of fellowship, in the words of compassion and forgiveness spoken from one to another. It is about far more than bread. You see, after this miraculous feeding in the continuation of the story, we find that the widow’s son becomes ill and dies. Elijah is still there. None of this makes any sense. Why bring hope only to face despair? In anger she says, “What have you against me, O man of God? You have come to me to bring my sin to remembrance and to cause the death of my son!” Death again devours her hope, but she is not alone. Elijah takes the child and pleads to God for his life. Once again, in their small church, in their little oasis of hope, in a desert of despair there is life. God hears His prophet’s prayer and Elijah presents her with a resurrected son. What a battle they had. What a trial they walked through together. Receiving her son back form the dead she says, “Now I know you are a man of God, and that the Word of the Lord in your mouth is truth.”

Sin and death, life and hope, repentance and absolution, dying and rising again to new life, these are the actions, the works of the Word of God. The Word of truth brings life and salvation to the people of God. By it we serve one another and by it we have true life.