Abstract
Elijah rises high in the religious traditions of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Across the Old Testament accounts, the Word of the Lord continually summons the prophet to make journeys as advocate for the divine. However, Elijah's trek to the wilderness of Horeb (I Kgs 19:1–21), though marked by fear and despondency, may surface as one of his most significant sojourns. Here, the prophet's response to his own shortcomings marks him as a spiritual model rivaling perhaps all his previous achievements.
Elijah's importance continues in Christianity. Jesus himself was thought to be Elijah by some of his disciples and followers (Matt 16:14; Mark 6:15; 8:28; Luke 9:8, 19). John the Baptist was asked whether he was Elijah (John 1:21, 25) and is also said to have gone before the Lord “in the spirit and power of Elijah” (Luke 1:17). Elijah, representing prophecy, and Moses, representing the law were key witnesses in the transfiguration story (Matt 17:3ff; Mark 9:4ff; Luke 9:30ff). At Nazareth, Jesus alluded to the encounter of Elijah and the widow to illustrate the rejection of a prophet in his own country (Luke 4:25ff). Even Paul referenced Elijah in conjunction with the prophet's experience on Mt. Horeb (Rom 11:3).
Elijah also receives recognition in Islam. The Qur'an and certain Islamic traditions credit Elijah as a great and righteous man of God. Within this tradition, Elijah is painted as a courageous and powerful preacher against the worship of Baal (Sūra 37. 123–26). Muslim scholars believe that Elijah came from the family of Prophet Aaron. It is thought that Elijah was granted prophethood after the death of the great prophet Aaron and King Solomon. Muslims believe Elijah was a prophet commissioned by Allah to preach to the people of Israel. In addition to his significance within Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, the prophet even holds a place in the beliefs of some cultures. In Macedonia, Serbia, Bulgaria, and Romania he figures prominently in various folkloric traditions. Known as “Elijah the Thunderer,” he is held responsible for summer storms, hail, rain, thunder, and dew by various local groups within these societies.
Given his importance within many religious traditions and cultures, it is not surprising that some religious orders consider the prophet their founder and mentor. The Carmelites, for example, founded in Ireland in the second half of the thirteenth century are a contemplative fraternity who live out their charism in the midst of the people. They consider themselves the successors of the hermits who lived in the spirit of Elijah on Mount Carmel. But the words spoken by the prophet at Mt. Horeb form the motto of the Order: “I am very zealous for the Lord, God of Hosts” (1 Kgs 19:10). Hence, the Carmelites venerate Elijah as their model, both as servant of the Word of the Lord and as one who had a profound experience of God at Horeb.
Given the frequency of his appearance across the various traditions, Elijah does deserve such renown. But sometimes such elevation of an historical figure to the status of hero or mentor can blind us to the fault lines that mark their authenticity as human beings. The iteration of a seemingly impeccable character can put an unhelpful distance between these individuals and the lives of ordinary people. Their elevated status in the tradition can obscure the struggles, the failures, and the self-doubt of these persons and even encourage reading past hints of basic human weaknesses. Often romanticized as flawless, their influence becomes remote. As a result, the religious or even spiritual inspiration they might provide for believers becomes compromised. Hence, the idealization of such religious figures risks the potential loss of any real or sound impact that their person or story might exert.
Elijah in the Wilderness of Horeb
Much of the importance afforded Elijah down through the centuries stems from what is read and interpreted as the climax of his career, his encounter with God on Mount Horeb (1 Kgs 19:1–18). This episode, on the heels of Elijah's victory over the Baal prophets on Mount Carmel (I Kgs 18:20–40), is considered the pinnacle of this prophetic cycle of tradition. Without qualification, the representation of Elijah at Horeb both within Bible translations and across scholarship takes for granted that Elijah has a visionary encounter with God on a mountaintop. The NRSV subtitles this segment as Elijah Meets God at Horeb. The Jerusalem Bible's entry for these verses reads Elijah at Horeb–-An Encounter with God. And the NIV registers the account under the heading The Lord Appears to Elijah. Scholarship also assumes that Elijah, like Moses was granted a vision of God. Much conjecture exists as to how to translate what was reported as the theophanic encounter. Though the Hebrew here (qol damma daqah) has been variously translated as “still small voice,” “sound of silence,” “tiny whispering sound,” etc. most interpretations assume the prophet encounters God at this narrative moment. Hence, scholarly analyses exercise the bulk of their efforts not questioning whether there was a visionary encounter, but interpreting the meaning of the encounter. Gwilym Jones (1984) assumes the prophet's experience of a vision of God and suggests this encounter conveys to the prophet that God speaks not only in outward signs, as in cult, but also through a quiet presence that he translates as “a still small voice”(v 12). John Gray (1970) also takes for granted the theophany and focuses solely upon interpreting its meaning. According to his translation, “the still small voice” (v 12) reveals God in “an intelligible communication rather than in the spectacular phenomena” (410). For Gray, this marks “an advance in man's [sic] conception of God as personally accessible and intelligible … within the framework of human experience.” (411). More recently, Terrence Fretheim (1999), who translates 19:12 as “sound of silence,” interprets it as “a pregnant moment of calm” before God discloses the divine self directly to the prophet (110). In their literary study of the Mount Carmel tradition, Alan Hauser and Russell Gregory (1990) note that Yahweh's response in a “still small voice” (v 12) coincides with how God took care of the prophet earlier when he wanted to die. Instead of doing something spectacular, the Lord provided nourishment for the prophet. In both instances, the Lord supplied what the prophet needed. Marvin Sweeney (2007) also assumes the experience of theophany and suggests its unique description intends to “demonstrate the impossibility of describing Yahweh's presence” (232). All of these interpretations take for granted that what is reported in the Horeb episode as the qol damma daqah, despite its disputed translation, signals a theophanic encounter. Hence, their analyses assume a visionary experience and only debate what this visionary encounter meant.
This study revisits what has come to be known as Elijah's theophanic vision on Mount Horeb. However, it departs from the preoccupation with what the experience of God meant. Instead, it questions whether the account actually does report a vision of the divine before this esteemed prophet. Moreover, it attends to how the experience of a dream under the broom tree (19:4–8), which preceded the alleged vision on Mount Horeb, may have deluded both the prophet and subsequent readers of this account. Finally, it considers whether the tradition of Elijah's greatness, stemming from his presumed vision of God at Horeb, has in fact obscured our vision of what also constitutes greatness about this prophet.
The Nature of Visions
Visions are ecstatic experiences and frequently serve as means of revelation. Surprisingly, they occupy a small place in the Old Testament. In the traditions of the ancestors, one type of vision occurs that is commonplace in these early stories: “Yahweh appeared and said … “ (Gen 12:7; 17:1; 26: 2, 24; 35:9). In these instances, the emphasis falls upon the ensuing speech rather than upon the vision. With Moses, the vision aspect serves as the more persistent component in the tradition. The vision of the burning bush is a revelation about the divine reality. The bush is burning but is not being consumed. This discloses that God has the power to destroy, but does not do so. In Exod 33:18ff, Moses, who requests to encounter God, is permitted to see the back of Yahweh, but not God's face. Here the vision is thought to grant this great ancestor a glimpse of God while protecting him from the dangerous consequence of a direct viewing of the divine presence.
In an effort to categorize such accounts, form critics have offered a definition of visions. Called vision reports (Visionsbericht), they are broadly characterized as narratives which “recount what a prophet or seer hears and/or sees in an inner perception” (Long: 263). These vision reports are often cast in autobiographical style and can have sounds, voices, movements, and dialogue that draw the individual into the drama of the encounter. Some visions, like the one Moses experiences in the wilderness at Horeb, qualify as theophanic visions. Unlike Amos's vision of the fruit basket (Amos 8:1–2) or Ezekiel's vision of Jerusalem (Ezek 8–9), which are essentially visions of human realities or events, theophanic visions feature an experience of God. A combination of particular elements is characteristic of such an encounter. First, there may be a description or alert of Yahweh's approach. Second, natural upheavals such as wind, fire, storm, etc. are frequent accompaniments with which the coming of the divine is announced or revealed. Though not actually a formal feature of the theophany report, a notable change or even transformation in the individual who has experienced the visionary encounter is often included in the report. For example, Job, who steadfastly maintained his innocence and his knowledge of how God acts, retreats from this posture after his theophanic encounter with the divine (Job 42:1–6). As an indication that Job is changed because of this theophanic experience, he is not only restored everything he lost, but restored everything times two (Job 42:10–17). Hence, at the end of the story, he is in a changed state from what he was at its beginning.
Isaiah ben Amos, the prophet of Jerusalem, also has a theophanic vision in the temple. In the process, we hear him identify initially as one in a wretched state, living among a people who are defiled. “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips” (Isa 6:5). However, an about-face occurs in this encounter after Isaiah proclaims that he has looked upon Yahweh, the Lord of hosts. Suddenly and enthusiastically, he moves beyond his proclaimed unworthiness and confidently agrees to be God's messenger. “Here I am. Send me” (Isa 6:8). Hence, a discernible transformation or alteration in disposition is noted here as well. The prophet moves from an admission of unworthiness to a self-proclaimed worthiness to serve. Scarce in occurrence, as well as manifesting a great deal of variability, reports of theophanic visions warrant careful scrutiny before coming to interpretive conclusions about what is or is not being reported.
Three Journeys and Then a Fourth
In the first three chapters of the Elijah tradition (1 Kgs 17–19), the prophet embarks upon several journeys. The “coming of the Word of the Lord” initiates the first three. However, the fourth jaunt stems from Elijah's own scheme. First, in 1 Kings 17:2–3, the Word of the Lord summons him to go and hide himself in the Wadi Cherith. Thus, “He went and acted according to the Word of the Lord” (1 Kgs 17:5). Hidden away in this safe haven, he receives protection from Ahab's campaign to murder Yahweh's prophets. But he also enjoys a bountiful feast of bread and meat supplied by the appointed ravens and fresh water from the wadi in a time of drought. Next the Word of the Lord instructs him, “Get up and go to Zarephath” (1 Kgs 17:8–9). There he will be the divine agent that transforms the circumstances of a widow and her son from utter impoverishment and hopelessness to faith and abundance. A third time, the Word of the Lord summons Elijah, directing him to a third destination. “Go present yourself before Ahab” (1 Kgs 18:1). A spectacular victory for the prophet against four hundred and fifty Baal prophets on Mount Carmel ensues, followed by the rise of a tiny cloud over the Mediterranean, which ends the drought.
Upon hearing Ahab's report that Elijah has not only been victorious over her prophets but has slaughtered all of them in the Wadi Kishon, Jezebel issues a death warrant against Elijah (19:2). The queen's oath to make “his life like the life of one of them” sets the prophet in motion. “He was afraid; he got up and fed for his life, and he came to Beersheba, which belongs to Judah; he left his servant there” (v 3). Thus, Elijah's fourth journey begins in the wilderness of Sinai. However, this time the Word of the Lord is conspicuously absent from the travel plan. Instead fear, rather than the Word of the Lord, instigates this journey and navigates Elijah's actions (v 3).
The prophet's seclusion intensifies as he moves beyond Beersheba. Having departed from his servant, Elijah journeys alone into exile. “But he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree” (19:4). A day's journey brings Elijah geographical separation from all others. The vagueness of “a solitary broom tree” emphasizes the lack of destination. The first three journeys initiated by the Word of the Lord yielded abundant sustenance in the wilderness (17:6–7), new life for a widow and her son (17:15–16), and then a victory on a mountaintop (18:38). By contrast, Elijah reports only despondency and desperation on this fourth self-initiated hike. Further, his seclusion and desperation prompt a dire plea. “It is enough, now, O Lord, take my life, for I am no better than my ancestors” (19:4). In this self-inflicted isolation of the wilderness, Elijah now requests to die. The repetition of the word “life” (vv 2, 3, 4) is revealing. The prophet who fed for his “life” (v 3) now wishes to die. Elijah the prophet wants to die, but he does not want to be killed.
Dreams in the Wilderness
After wishing for death, the prophet lies down and seeks consolation in the unconsciousness of sleep. Entering a dream state that in the Hebrew conception hangs midway between life and death, the prophet moves into further isolation. Characteristic of a dream report, the narrative departs from its previous geographical moorings and becomes highly symbolic. Dream reports (Traumbericht) recount principal elements of a dream experience in first or third person style (Long). If the verb “to dream” is missing, and other elements suggesting sleep are present, the use of the particle “and behold” (wehinneh) often serves as a characteristic demarcation that a dream is being described. The narrative reports “Then he lay down and fell asleep under a broom tree” (v 5). Though the NRSV narrates what immediately follows as “Suddenly … “, the Hebrew actually translates as “And behold” (wehinneh) suggesting that a dream now is about to unfold.
Two encounters structure the dream report (vv 5–6 and vv 7–8). The first part of the dream opens with “and behold a messenger (mal'ak) touched him” (v 5). This messenger, translated as “angel” in the NRSV, is introduced with the same Hebrew word (mal'ak) used for the messenger who earlier delivered Jezebel's death threat to the prophet (v 2). Psychologists reveal that “Dreams help us process emotions … especially negative ones that increase worry and anxiety” (Van der Linden: 36). Similarly, Elijah's dream time slumber allows him to confront the day time anxieties that have driven him to the wilderness. In the dream, the messenger's invitation for him to get up and eat suggests elements that make up the concerns of the individual alone in the wilderness. Again, “And behold … “ (wehinneh) (v 6) introduces the next part indicating that what follows remains part of the dream. At his head are a cake baked on hot stones and a jug of water–-a rather sumptuous fare for the wilderness, but certainly possible for a dream by one tired and hungry from such a journey. But the despondent prophet will not be easily revived by food and drink. Thus, he eats and drinks. That he lies down again suggests the dream continues. As is characteristic, the iterative quality of dreams manifests with the reappearance of the messenger. This time the messenger is identified as “the messenger of the Lord” (v 7). Again, the messenger coaxes the prophet to get up and eat, but this time with a motive. “Get up and eat and drink for the journey will be too much for you” (v 7). Elijah's slumber ends with the mysterious intrigue or questions that dreams often evoke. In this case, when he awakes, the question lingers for both the prophet and for the reader: what “journey”?
Dreams help “regulate traffic on the fragile bridge that connects our experiences with our emotions and memories” (Van der Linden: 37). Hence, for Elijah, images of the past intermingle with a replay of snippets from his experience in the present. In his dream, the feeding story before a journey reaches back to previous events. A miraculous feeding prefaced Elijah's journey to Sidon. There, a widow miraculously fed the prophet before his encounter with Ahab at Samaria (1 Kgs 17:7–16). In addition, parallels with an even earlier tradition begin to resonate here. Events from the Moses tradition work to coincide with the contours of the prophet's dream and his current circumstances. Once, Moses killed an enemy and fed to the wilderness to escape those who sought his life (Exod 2:11–15). On another occasion, Elijah's great ancestor came to a bush and encountered a divine messenger (Exod 3:1–6). In yet another story, Moses wished for his own death in the wilderness when he was overcome with the burden of his commission (Num 11:15). And again, God fed Moses and the people in that desert setting (Num 11: 31–32). As images from Elijah's dream, his memory, and his experience continue to resist the anchor of real time, these Moses-Elijah parallels may have become more vivid and more explicit. When the prophet finally awoke, as if inspired by his dream, he seemed to have overcome his despondency and set out on a new plan, a plan suggested by his dream–-another journey! “He ate and drank; then he went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mountain of God” (v 8).
Upon arriving at the mountain, Elijah enters a cave where he spends the night (v 9). The Hebrew reads “the cave” (hamme'ara). The inclusion of the definite article suggests the cave is specific. It sustains the analogy with the rock-like enclosure at Horeb associated with Elijah's great ancestor Moses. Moses was instructed to stand in “the cave” to shield himself from the glory of God (Exod 33:22–23). Such parallels cultivate expectations of an upcoming Moses-like theophanic vision for Elijah. Yet, a fundamental difference separates Elijah from his ancestor. As prophetic intercessor, Moses journeyed to the cave in the wilderness to plead on behalf of the people. By contrast, Elijah fees to the wilderness on his own behalf. Recall, “He was afraid; he got up and fed for his life” (v 3).
The formulaic introduction, “Then the Word of the Lord came to him” (v 9) suggests an upcoming prophetic commission for Elijah or perhaps another revelation. Instead, only an inquiry is issued. Though his retreat to the cave at Horeb after journeying forty days and forty nights is analogous to that of his ancestor Moses, Elijah's sojourn here is questioned. “What are you doing here, Elijah?” (v 9). The Word of the Lord asks the prophet to explain his presence at this mountain cave. Moreover, the straightforward nature of the divine inquiry contrasts with the prophet's wordy response.
And he answered, “I have been zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away” [v 14].
First, Elijah proclaims his fervor and devotion for the Lord, the God of hosts. Then he recites a litany of allegations against the opposition. Surprisingly, he does not name Jezebel or Ahab, who have determined to kill him. Instead, he reports that the Israelites have abandoned the covenant, broken down altars, and slain the prophets. This too is curious because the preceding account on Mount Carmel ended with all Israel falling down in worship while proclaiming, “Yahweh is God, Yahweh is God” (18:39). Apparently, still desperate to make his case for being where he is, he ends with the assertion that he is the only prophet left and they want to kill him.
The poetics of his answer disclose a contradiction surrounding the idealized portrait of Elijah as faithful follower of the Lord. He professes his extreme zeal for the Lord at the beginning of his reply. But the conclusion of his response betrays his ongoing concern for himself–-“I alone am left and they are seeking my life, to take it away” (v 10). Elijah's fight from Jezebel was instigated by a concern for his life. His despair in the wilderness motivated a request that his life be destroyed. Now Elijah explains his retreat to Horeb as an act of self-preservation. “They are seeking my life, to take it away” (v 10). Concerns for his own life seem to have motivated this fourth journey and now figure in again as explanation for this journey to Horeb. Thus, the prophet's zeal for the Lord is enmeshed with zeal for his own life.
Anticipation builds toward a theophanic encounter as the climactic and concluding parallel between Elijah and his ancestor Moses. Characteristic of the theophanic vision report, there is an alert to Yahweh's approach. Elijah is instructed to go stand on the mountain, “for the Lord is about to pass by” (v 11). Also congruent with accounts of theophanic visions, there comes the display of natural upheavals (wind, fire, storm, etc.) which serve to conjure fear and awe at the Lord's approach. The ensuing parade of familiar theophanic images–-a great wind, an earthquake, and fire–-foster expectation of a divine appearance (Exod 19:16–18; Judg 5:4; Pss 18:8–16; 68:8–9; 77:17–19; Isa 29:6; Nah 1:3–6). And yet, the threefold sonorous cadence–-“the Lord was not in the wind,” “the Lord was not in the earthquake,” “the Lord was not in the fire”–-dashes all hopes. The familiar theophanic triad does not produce a vision of the divine. In the description, the stateliness of nature contrasts with the tumult nature creates. Ironically, this parade of violent upheavals concludes with an ambiguous quietude that follows.
The actual translation of the Hebrew here (qol damma daqah) (v 12) has long been debated until the recent clarification stemming from the evidence of the Qumran texts. In both the Dead Sea Scrolls and post-biblical Hebrew and Aramaic texts, the word damma can be derived only from the Hebrew root d-m-m I (“to be silent”) rendering the expression qol damma daqah, “the sound of sheer silence” (Reymond). However, Bible versions that predate this research still vary in their translation of this expression. The NRSV correctly regards it as “a sound of sheer silence” (v 12), implying whatever it manifests is imperceptible or undetectable. This combination of contradictory words, sound and silence, fashions a chilling anticlimax in the place of the anticipated theophanic vision. According to the report, nothing is seen and nothing is heard.
“When Elijah heard it, he covered his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave” (v 13). So what did Elijah hear? Before the threefold tumult of nature, Elijah was told by the Word of the Lord to go stand at the entrance to the cave. Congruent with his fear and concern for his life, he does not move until after the (qol damma daqah) “sound of sheer silence.” Still inside the cave, what he hears is the cessation of the tumult–-”the sound of sheer silence”. Nature's commotion–-in the form of wind, the earthquake and fire–-had ended. Only when the prophet hears the “sound of sheer silence” assuring him that the threatening uproar is over does he move to the entrance of the cave. Now he prepares for a vision like the one experienced by his ancestor Moses.
Elijah's anticipatory response to that which he expects to experience mirrors that of other great religious figures who are about to experience a vision with a revelation. “He wrapped his face in his mantle” (v 13). Mohammed enveloped himself in his cloak when he was about to receive his first visions in a cave on Mount Hira. Similarly, Moses was covered when the Lord agreed to show to him the divine glory (Exod 33: 20). But once again a subtle difference disrupts the parallel between Moses and Elijah. In the Exodus account, the Lord covered Moses so he would not die, for as the Lord warned, “no one can see me and live.” (Exod 33: 20). By contrast, Elijah covers himself. The gesture continues Elijah's ongoing concern for his own life, as well as demonstrates his expectation of a revelatory vision. But what Elijah prepares for is not what he encounters. Instead, though Elijah does finally hear something, it is only a familiar voice repeating a familiar question. “What are you doing here, Elijah?” (v 13). Once again, Elijah's location in the wilderness is questioned. In verse 9, the voice is identified as the Word of the Lord. Thus, it is the same voice that has been continually beckoning Elijah. The Word of the Lord made itself known to the prophet at Cherith (17:3), at Sidon (17:8), and on Mount Carmel (18:20). Once again, the persistent Word of the Lord that summoned him to make three previous journeys, questions what the conflict-riddled prophet is doing in the wilderness. Despite the prophet's determination to abandon his responsibilities, the Lord still tends to the fleeing prophet and refuses to abandon him.
The points of contact with the Moses-like divine encounter begin to collapse. No grand theophanic vision erupts on Horeb for Elijah. Even the symbols associated with Moses as covenant mediator are negated. The wind, the earthquake, and the fire are all devoid of divine presence. Moreover, the elusive “sound of sheer silence” signals only that the disruptive natural events have ceased, enabling the hesitant prophet to finally approach the daylight at the entrance to the cave. When questioned this time about the reason for his sojourn, the prophet's monotonous repetition of his earlier response also corroborates the lack of any vision or encounter.
And he answered, “I have been zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away” [v 14].
While a transformation of some kind is characteristically associated with a theophany, nothing has changed for Elijah, nor has Elijah changed. The best he can do is repeat himself. Elijah's despondency after hiding out in the desert and feeling riddled with conflict persists. Moreover, the prophet is stuck in his self-righteousness. The verbatim iteration of his previous reply serves as evidence.
In what follows, a divine commission arranges for the succession of both kings and prophets (vv 15–16). The characters at the opening of the story are about to be replaced. Aram headed by Hazael, will replace Phoenicia (hence, Jezebel) as the northern threat to Israel. Jehu's dynasty will overthrow Ahab's house. Finally, Elisha will replace Elijah as prophet. The replacement of Elijah by Elisha artistically climaxes the threefold mandate. Elijah will be relieved of his prophetic post. And amid this turmoil, his sojourn in the wilderness ends with a sharp note of correction. Though Elijah claimed to be “the only one left”, the Word of the Lord concludes by challenging the prophet's false claim. There are others residing in Israel who have remained faithful to the Lord. In fact, the Lord has preserved seven thousand faithful who have never worshipped Baal (v 18).
Conclusion
The tradition of Elijah as religious champion and spiritual hero receives qualification at Horeb. In the wilderness, Elijah appears in conflict with himself and with his God. He fees for his life, but requests that his life be taken in the wilderness. He seeks refuge from his despair in deep slumber under a broom tree. However, though his sleep revives him, his dreams delude him. He gets up and sets out on another journey of his own design. He prepares, perhaps presumptuously, to encounter God as Moses did and in the place where his great ancestor was granted that request. Covering himself to save his life, he experiences no vision, but simply a “sound of sheer silence.” When he does hear something, it is the same word of the Lord inquiring again as to why he is in the wilderness. Prophecy cannot be carried out in the seclusion of the isolated environs of nature. Despite the threats to his life, he must go back. In the course of a threefold commission, Elijah is commanded to replace himself as prophet. As final chastisement, the word of the Lord makes clear that Elijah is not the only faithful follower.
Elijah's renown across several religious traditions and even in popular culture suggests his well-established status as a spiritual rock star. We gravitate to such heroes, often exaggerating their greatness and idolizing them. Sometimes we dream we could even be like them in all their courage, virtue, and greatness. But heroism does not equal perfection; nor is it one dimensional in makeup. True heroes share our disquiet and struggles. They also falter and sometimes fail. They see visions and they dream dreams. And like us, they also can succumb to delusions of grandeur resident in both experiences. Their successes may help motivate us to strive beyond boundaries of fear and self-doubt; yet, how they respond to weaknesses and even their failures may be of far greater significance. The burden and scars that mar the prophetic hero Elijah become apparent in the wilderness. Such self-awareness left him dispirited and despondent. Yet the greatest trial he had to face was still ahead. How would he respond? Would he confront some of his fears, or the sacrifices required of him? Or would he remain mired in self-deception prompted by a dream and the pretense of a vision?
In the end, Elijah responds to the divine summons with obedience. He leaves the wilderness in order to anoint his successor (vv 19–21). It takes immense courage to reverse direction and retrace the steps of a journey one was never summoned to make. And perhaps it is in doing this that Elijah rises highest as a model and mentor.