Called by God – Elijah

Called by God – Elijah

Throughout this series we’re exploring what it means to be called by God — to listen for God’s voice, to respond with faith, and to discover how our unique gifts and stories become part of God’s bigger purpose. Each week we have been exploring biblical characters who remind us that calling isn’t just for prophets or pastors, but for all of us, right where we are.

In this Sermon we’ll be looking at the story of Elijah from 1 Kings 19. After the dramatic showdown on Mount Carmel, Elijah finds himself exhausted, fearful, and ready to give up … but in his weariness, God meets him not with fire or thunder, but with food, rest, and a whisper of grace. It’s a beautiful reminder that God’s care is both gentle and restorative — meeting us in our tiredness and helping us to find strength again.

As we continue our Vision 2030 journey and just a few weeks away from our Growing Generosity program, Elijah’s story invites us to think about our own calling within the balance of serving and resting. God’s mission doesn’t call us to burn out, but to be renewed — to listen for that quiet whisper that calls us forward, and to rise again with energy and purpose to play our part in God’s unfolding work.


Sermon Text

 For the past few weeks, we’ve been exploring our series The Call of God — how God’s call is reflected in the lives of some Old Testament characters.

Over the past two weeks, / we’ve heard how God called David to be the future king of Israel, and how God called Solomon to build the temple. But I hope we haven’t given the impression that the call of God is only for important people like kings or prophets or priests. The Bible tells us that God has a purpose — a calling — for all who believe.

That’s why the Apostle Paul in Ephesians 4 urges us to “live a life worthy of the calling you have received.” He goes on to describe many different callings — to serve, to teach, to show mercy, to build up others. The Bible is clear: everyone is called and gifted to serve in God’s mission.  And that calling can come in many ways.

For some, like Samuel, God speaks clearly: “I need this to be done, and I’m inviting you to help.”

/ For others, it’s more like Jeremiah’s experience — a fire in the bones, a passion that can’t be held in:  “If I say, ‘I will not mention him or speak any more in his name,’ then within me there is something like a burning fire shut up in my bones.” (Jer. 20:9)

/ Some hear God’s call in compassion, like the Good Samaritan — moved by what they see around them, simply responding in love.

/ Others are like Nehemiah, who didn’t quite know what God wanted, but felt deep down that something was broken and someone had to fix it … so why not me?

I believe God calls all of us — sometimes in big, dramatic ways, and sometimes in quiet, ordinary ones — inviting us to join God’s work of love and grace in the world. Often, that calling is fulfilling and life-giving. But sometimes, it’s hard and draining. And that’s where we find  / Elijah in our story today.

We don’t know much about Elijah’s early life or “call story” – its not recorded in the Bible.  Elijah appears during the reign of the wayward Israelite King Ahab and Queen Jezebel … who led the nation astray in worshipping Baal.  In 1 Kings 17:1, Elijah bursts on the scene and declares, “As the Lord, the God of Israel, lives, there will be neither dew nor rain in the next few years except at my word.”

And sure enough – drought.  Yet even in the drought, / Elijah experiences miracle after miracle: fed by ravens, stayed with a widow whose flour and oil never runs out, even raising the widows son from death.  Then comes the showdown on Mount Carmel in 1 Kings 18 — Elijah versus the prophets of Baal.  At it is Elijah’s prayers that are successful, and the fire of God falls from heaven. It’s a moment of triumph!  The gathered crowd all cry, “The Lord is God!”  It is the high point of Elijah’s ministry.

But as we read in the  /  beginning of our bible reading … this is when everything unravels.  In his victory, Elijah orders the execution of the Baal prophets.  Queen Jezebel is furious and vows revenge. And suddenly, Elijah — the mighty prophet — is burnt out, afraid, and running for his life.

/ Have you ever felt like Elijah?  When serving God or helping others usually is joyful and lifegiving and great, but sometimes also be difficult or tiring and draining? 

Or you’ve given your all — in ministry, in family, in life — but in that moment you’re just flat. The adrenaline has dropped. The tank’s empty. You love God, you love serving, but you’re tired and you are not sure you can keep going.

That’s Elijah. One moment he’s calling down fire from heaven; the next, he’s sitting under a broom tree saying to God, “I’m done. I’ve had enough.”

I think we need to realise that exhaustion is not failure, it’s human. 

/ Notice how God responds.  There’s no rebuke, no lecture.  God simply lets Elijah sleep.  Then sends an angel with food and water. Elijah rests again, and the angel says, “Eat, for the journey is too much for you.”

God’s first response to Elijah’s burnout is not command — but care.  Rest, food, and space.  Or as one podcast beautifully put it: a nap and a snack.  Elijah can’t pour from an empty cup … he needed this time to refill.

Sometimes, the most spiritual thing you can do is exactly that. Rest. Eat. Pause. Refill.

(And I’ll admit … I don’t always practice what I preach here! But that’s why Marion and I took a week away — we knew we needed to refill before the Christmas rush. It’s okay to stop. It’s okay to have a nap and a snack and then get back in.)

Once Elijah’s rested, God invites him back into conversation.
/ Strengthened by rest and food, Elijah travels to Mount Horeb — the same mountain where God spoke to Moses. There, in a cave, Elijah waits.

/ God asks gently:  “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

In Hebrew, that question can be read in two tones. It might sound accusatory — “What are you doing?” — or it can sound tender: “Tell me what’s going on. What’s weighing on your heart?”

I think it’s the second. Because Elijah pours his heart out:

“I’ve worked hard for you, Lord. I’ve done everything you asked, but it hasn’t made a difference. I’m the only one left.”

God says, “Step outside — I’m about to pass by.”

/ Elijah expects God to appear in a dramatic way, like the powerful wind, earthquake, or fire … some of the usual signs of divine power.  But God is in none of these.  Rather  / Elijah experiences God in a gentle whisper … or as one translation puts it … “the sound of sheer silence”.

God is not always in the dramatic but is also in the intimate, the quiet, the stillness.  Sometimes God’s call is not shouted through thunder but whispered through restlessness, reflection, or community discernment.

Think about the times when you have felt God draw close to you, when God has prompted you or spoken to you.   It can be in the chaos and activity … but it can also be in the pause.  In that quiet moment of worship, or sitting still in nature, or in a place of solitude and reflection.

/ Elijah pours our his heart again to God.  ““I’ve been working so hard for you God… yet the people of Israel have abandoned your covenant, destroyed your places of worship, and murdered your prophets. I’m the only one left, and now they’re trying to kill me.”

At this point, God’s message shifts. / Go back.  The call remains.  There is still work to be done.  It’s time to return.

But notice how God reframes the call, the task at hand.  Elijah isn’t to do it alone anymore.  He’s to anoint new kings — Hazael and Jehu — and appoint Elisha as his successor.  There’s a team now. There’s community.  God reminds Elijah: You are not alone. There are 7,000 others still faithful.

What a word for us! / God’s call is never meant to burn us out or leave us isolated.  It’s meant to be shared — to be sustained by community, by delegation, by trust.  God makes the call sustainable.

So what does this mean for us?

Each of us will have times when our fire fades — in faith, in service, in life. Elijah’s story reminds us: / when you’re weary, pause before you push.  Rest.  Eat.  Listen.  You’re not alone.  And when God whispers again — Go — go with renewed strength, not exhaustion.

This is a timely message for us as a church. In two weeks, not only do we have the Flea Market but we are launching Growing Generosity — our church-wide program of sharing where our mission planning is up to and reflecting on how we can resource God’s mission with our passions, time, gifts and resources.

As a church, we’ve had some incredible seasons and successes — moments when God’s fire has fallen, when we’ve felt God’s hand at work.  But maybe now, as we prepare to build and renew for the next decade, / maybe God is whispering something new:

  • A call to sustainability, not exhaustion.
  • A call to share the mantle — to not just let the same people do all the work but to empower all people of all ages into leadership and service. 
  • A call to play our part — not by necessarily doing more, but by being more deeply attuned to God’s quiet call.

Vision 2030 and Growing Generosity aren’t about busier schedules — they’re about deeper responsiveness. God doesn’t need frantic workers; God longs for renewed people — rested, nourished, ready to serve again.

So —  /  which word from God do you most need to hear this morning?  

  • Rest.
  • Eat.
  • You’re not alone.
  • Go back — there’s still good work to do.

May that word dwell in your heart this week. Remember: God meets us in our weariness, restores us with bread, silence, and purpose, and calls us again to take part in God’s work.

This week, may we all listen for the whisper, be nourished by grace, and rise again — not alone, but together — to play our part in God’s unfolding story of hope.

Amen.