Sabbatical Day 1: Under the Broom Tree

The prophet Elijah is one of the greatest figures in the Old Testament.  He called fire from heaven, raised the dead and ran faster than chariots.  His greatest feat came in an epic battle with the prophets of the foreign God Baal which he won in dramatic fashion to the delight of the whole nation of Israel.  If the Old Testament had superheros Elijah would have been Superman.  And yet, it was after his rising to his greatest victory that he descended to his lowest moment.  Upon hearing that Jezebel was trying to kill him he "was afraid and ran for his life."  Traveling a day's journey into the desert "he came to a broom tree.  Sat down under it and prayed that he might die."  Instead of celebrating like he'd won the Super Bowl Elijah was depressed.  Instead of going to Disney World, Elijah ran away to the desert. I always wondered why, how could this be.  Then I became a pastor and began to understand.  

Sunday mornings are a big day in the clergy world.  It is the day of gathering, the weekly welcome, the time when God's people get together to worship the creator of all that was, is and is to come!  We pastors spend a week preparing the order and content of that service and then with the benediction and a few cups of coffee it is over.  Though fire usually doesn't come from heaven nor enemy prophets defeated, the completion of each Sunday worship is a victory.  And yet, like Elijah, when it is over most of us pastors wonder if it mattered at all.  By 2:00 on Sunday afternoons I am ready to lie down under a broom tree and sleep.  



Despite this pattern one would think that the Sunday before a four month sabbatical would be different.  Numerous grant applications, two years of preparation and countless conversations had gone into preparing for this day.  With a supportive congregation, a capable musician on board and not just one but two gifted pastors to shepherd the congregation one would think this a day fit for joy and celebration.  It was...and yet.  Perhaps it is feeling "on", or maybe it is the energy it takes to preach or perhaps it is that I get up at 4:00 in the morning. Regardless the reason, at 2:00 that afternoon I found myself falling onto my bed exhausted, not just from fatigue, but with something else - sadness.

And so, this is where I begin my sabbatical, under the broom tree.  Like Elijah I don't imagine I will stay there.   Also, like Elijah there will be travels, encounters with strangers and of course hospitality.  But right now, on Sunday afternoon, I am sad, perhaps even depressed and that, hopefully is okay.