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Impact Prayer Team





 
God is God: the Challenge of Elijah

GOD IS GOD. It seems obvious, doesn't it?

 

 

But there have been times when confused human beings have gotten it all wrong, when God's exclusive claims haven't been nearly so obvious.

 

 

Israel drifted in such confusion under the kings after Solomon, exploring whether Baal or Asherah or some other local deity might be God. So the real God, holy and jealous, sent a prophet with a deeply significant name: Elijah. Translated into English, Elijah means "the LORD is God."

 

 

Elijah is one of the many cases in Scripture where the message mirrors the name. El (a form of Elohim) and Jah (a form of Yahweh) are united to form Elijah, a fitting identification for this prophet with a powerful mission and a divine declaration. In an age of apostasy, when God's carefully cultivated, covenant people were bowing before carved statues and bogus altars, the Lord sent a messenger who not only spoke words of correction; he embodied them.

 

 

Elijah was an in-your-face rebuke to the idolaters of his age. There can be no subtleties when the first and second commandments are at stake in the lives of God's people, and Elijah was anything but subtle. He challenged, offended, preached, and prophesied. Most of all, he stood for God when few others would.

 

 

Showdown on Carmel

 

 

The prophet named "The LORD is God" (or "Yahweh is God") is best known for his battle with the priests of Baal. He had once prayed for famine (1 Kings 17:1)—a sign of severe judgment according to Israel's covenant in Deuteronomy 28:15-68—and God had answered. But a dry and desolate land had not turned Israel's hearts back to their Creator. Those hearts pleaded with Baal all the more for rain—a rain that would not come because the pleas fell on ears that could not hear. God's own people were abandoning Him. Drastic measures were needed.

 

 

Even Elijah may have been surprised by the extreme actions God directed. The prophet was to present himself to the wicked king Ahab (18:1), a suicide mission under normal circumstances. But the confrontation would lead to the climactic episode in Elijah's ministry—a showdown on Mount Carmel. In the heat of a drought, he challenged Ahab to a spiritual duel: 850 false prophets on one side, Elijah and his God on the other. (v. 19)

 

 

It was a challenge Ahab couldn't refuse. Perhaps once and for all, this tension between the alleged invisible "God" and the more humanly accessible Baal and Asherah would be resolved. Perhaps this would finally get Elijah—the "troubler of Israel," according to Ahab (v. 17)—off the king's back.

 

 

It didn't, of course. The showdown didn't go as Ahab had hoped. Elijah stood and issued a charge. "If the LORD is God," Elijah shouted—yes, he staked his own name on this challenge—"follow Him; but if Baal [is God], follow him." But no one said a word. (v. 21 NIV)

 

 

That's odd, isn't it? Elijah gave only two options, and the people still couldn't choose between them. Maybe that's the fruit of compromise; it results in indecision and a craving for in-between options that just don't exist. It really did come down to either God or Baal, one or the other, and they couldn't make a simple choice. They had lived for years without an ounce of discernment, devoting half of their heart to God and the other half to His false rivals. A decision would have torn them apart.

 

 

Elijah made it easier for them. He suggested two altars, and whichever one was set on fire by heaven would serve as a clear indication of heaven's Lord. The previously indecisive crowd could agree to such a test. Yes, that would settle it.

 

 

So the priests of Baal and the prophet of God set up their altars, and Elijah offered his adversaries the opportunity to go first. (v. 25) What a scene they made—complete with dancing and impressively loud pleas, then self-mutilation and frantic prophesying! But nothing happened. Baal was silent.

 

 

Then Elijah raised the stakes. Digging a trench around his altar, he doused the future site of the flame with water—three times. Next, he offered a simple prayer for the glory of God, and fire fell. (v. 38)

 

 

This time, the people were not silent. Their lifetime of indecision was over. They fell on their faces and shouted, "The LORD —He is God! The LORD —He is God!" (v. 39 NIV) Were they chanting Elijah's name? Or confessing their new faith? Both, in fact. One was tied up in the other: the prophet was the message; the message was the prophet. And the rains came.

 

 

"Yahweh is God" ended up a few days later cowering in a cave, afraid of a fuming, vengeful queen—the high patroness of paganism whose pet prophets were killed in the showdown. But God reached him even there and powerfully called Him back into public ministry. Was the Voice from above dripping with irony? Tinged with humor? Harsh in its accusations? Tender in its mercies? Regardless, the meaning was clear. The Almighty asked him a penetrating question: "What are you doing here, 'Yahweh is God'?" (19:9) That had to hurt.

 

 

But it worked. The prophet who was jealous for God's glory soon realized how absurd it was to hide from the raging queen Jezebel. She alone had somehow seemed more threatening than 850 pagan priests. Despite her losses, God's adversary still knew how to intimidate.

 

 

No Compromise

 

 

The Lord's adversaries still intimidate. We live in a culture of compromise and idolatry, a culture that bullies those who insist on a clear choice between God and Baal. The world enjoys splitting its affections between multiple deities and resents having to decide between them. Neverthe-less, we are called to embody the message that our Lord is the only God there is.

 

 

That's not a popular message today, certainly not outside the church, and sometimes not even within it. Tolerance—for anything and everything—is the religion of our day, and Elijah had very little of it. We know how unpopular his message would be in modern times, and we shy away from such confrontation. For the most part, we'd rather avoid the showdown.

 

 

Like Elijah, we have a decision to make: risk our names—even our lives—on a challenge to paganism, or hide our truth in a cave? Stand boldly on a mountaintop, or avoid the conflict until judgment comes? We waver between the showdown and the shelter, and we often end up in Elijah's less admirable position: bearing truth from a distance, where no evil ruler can find us.

 

 

As with Elijah, God comes to His fearful people—perhaps in the safety of a church or the comfort of a living room—and says: "What are you doing here?" He calls His followers not to avoid the showdown but to stand boldly on the mountain and set the stage for God to prove Himself in the eyes of all.

 

 

Does the Lord want His people to be confrontational? No, but He does call us to take a stand—to live a single-minded message in a double-minded public, where the adversaries are vocal and the stakes are high. He sends us into a confused culture to insist on an essential, life-changing truth: "God is God."