Original Meaning

Drought in Israel (17:1–24)

ELIJAH IS INTRODUCED as a prophet from Gilead, though the precise place of his origin remains in doubt. He is introduced as a Tishbite (hattišbî) “of the settlers” (tōšābê) of Gilead (NASB; see NIV note).5 The description of “settler” makes Elijah a non-Israelite, indicating he is an immigrant. The location of Tishbe in the Transjordan is not attested in ancient sources, though it has been identified with el-Istib eight miles (thirteen kilometers) north of the Jabbok in the proximity of a shrine for St. Elijah. Perhaps the text says nothing more than that Elijah is a settler in the wild, forested, and largely unsettled territory east of Jordan between the Yarmuk and Jabbok brooks in Gilead.

The message to King Ahab is given with divine sanction: lit., “by the life of Yahweh,” which invokes an oath asserting the truth of the words spoken. If Yahweh withholds the rain, it will prove Baal to be powerless. Yahweh’s will is represented through the word of prophet; the oath announces an irrevocable state of affairs that will weigh on the rule of Ahab.

The threat of drought by the oath of Yahweh is a direct challenge to the powers of Baal. Baal was the rider of the clouds, the god of rain and fertility, and therefore of riches. The image of Baal was a bull, which represented productivity and wealth that came through the god. He is depicted standing on a bull with the club of thunder in one hand and a sprig representing lightning in the other.6 The psalmist’s praise to Yahweh as the rider of the clouds is a direct challenge to the powers of Baal as the god of rain (Ps. 104:3–4). The protagonists in the present story are Yahweh and Baal, represented by Elijah and Ahab respectively.

Immediately after delivering the message, presumably in Samaria, Elijah is directed to go outside Ahab’s territory. He hides by a little brook overlooking the Jordan called Kerith.7 The need to make the journey to the river directly indicates that the drought will take immediate effect. Elijah needs sustenance and protection from Ahab. The divine provision for Elijah is similar to that of the Israelites in the desert after the crossing of the Red Sea (Ex. 16:8, 12). Provision for Elijah becomes even more dramatic after the brook dries up. Elijah is directed into the heart of Baal territory in Phoenicia, to a little town called Zarephath, about seven miles (thirteen kilometers) south of Sidon. Not only is Baal incapable of overcoming the drought, but the provision of Yahweh for the faithful prophet takes place right in the heart of Baal territory.

A widow in this foreign territory provides for Elijah. Usually widows were the poorest of all the citizens, though the reference to her household may suggest she is a woman of some means (17:15, 17). She is herself preparing to die with her son because the drought has exhausted their entire food supply (v. 12). Her favorable response to the prophet’s request for water prompts him to ask her for bread as well. The woman, though a Sidonian, answers in the name of the God of Elijah. Elijah tests her faith and self-renunciation by asking that she first provide a small loaf for him, then another for herself and her son. Yahweh will ensure that the flour in the jar and the oil in the jug will be sufficient until the rains again restore the fertility of the ground. The woman trusts the God of the prophet and does as he instructs. Her faith is rewarded, the prophetic word is confirmed, and the God of Israel is shown to be the giver of life.

The raising of the woman’s son is usually considered to be supplementary, joined by the vague phrase “after these things” (17:17; “some time later,” NIV). It is often thought to be derivative from the much more detailed story of the raising of the son of the Shunammite widow by Elisha (2 Kings 4:8–37). Schmitt considers it to be a prophetic narrative that creates a parallel between Elijah and Moses.8 In any case, the raising of the son is additional evidence that God alone has the power of life in addition to food. Parallels between Elijah and Moses, or Elijah and Elisha, are a deliberate aspect of the prophetic presentation, but they cannot in themselves serve as criteria for an artificial linking of extraneous stories.

The illness and death of the woman’s son (17:18, 20, 21–22) is taken as evidence that Elijah is not a benevolent prophet to a foreign woman; instead, she is being punished for her sins. The woman addresses Elijah in great distress; the idiom (lit.) “what have I to do with you” (17:18) expresses the same harsh dissociation as that of Jesus when asked by his mother to provide wine at the wedding in Cana (John 2:1–4). The woman implies that Elijah has come to meddle in her affairs and is causing her grief.

Elijah takes the lad upstairs to his own private room, where he stretches himself over the lifeless body three times (17:21). Normally this would be a violation of the prohibition of touching a dead body (e.g., Num. 9:6–7). The action may be an acted-out prayer typical of the prophets, but it could be a self-sacrificial intercession in which he takes the role of the sacrificial victim, identifying himself with the ultimate uncleanness of death.9 Moses identified fully with the plight of the people at the sin of the golden calf, praying that his name be stricken from the book of life if the people were not forgiven (Ex. 32:32). The action should not be regarded as contactual magic by analogy to similar Babylonian practices. This story is set in the context of a Hebrew worldview where magical practice is forbidden. It should not be thought that Elijah prays for the restoration of the “soul” of the child to the body (1 Kings 17:21, KJV), because the Hebrew word nepeš indicates breath or life such as animals possess as well (e.g., Gen. 1:20–21, 24). Life is restored to the child, demonstrating that God, not Baal, is the giver of life.

Confrontation on Mount Carmel (18:1–46)

Bridging Contexts

ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL. The battle with the Baal cult is set in the context of a Phoenician manifestation of Canaanite fertility worship. The Baal epic preserved in the tablets of the ancient city of Ugarit on the northern Mediterranean coast is an example of this religion. Originally the Baal myth at Ugarit was told in six large tablets and, according to one interpretation, described the mythological prototype of the normal agricultural and cultic year of the people of Ugarit.24

The narrative starts with a description of the supposed autumnal New Year festival when Baʿlu25 celebrates his victory over Death and his return to his holy mountain. The epic tells of the struggle between Yammu, the sea god, and Baʿlu, the god responsible for rain, storms, and fertility, the mythological prototype of the short Syrian winter with its gales, rain, hail, and occasional high tides.26 Tablet 4, column 5 tells of the building of a giant palace of silver and gold in seven days so that Baʿlu may rule again. The purpose of the palace is stated in lines 6–9 of the column:

Also it is the prime time for his rains,

Baʿlu should designate the time of the barque with snow,

and of the giving forth of his voice in the clouds,

of his letting loose the lightnings to the earth.27

The reference is to the so-called “latter rains” in the early spring (first half of March). The timing of these rains was of crucial importance to the standing crops. These rains came with thunderstorms, and occasionally took the form of snow and hail. The holy voice of Baʿlu was the thunder. A version of this cult was fostered by Jezebel and is the basis of the challenge given by Elijah (17:1). The question is whether Baal or the God of Elijah will determine the time of the rains. It is a test of the true prophet as well as the true God.

The confrontation with the Baal cult is told in a series of stories. Once the challenge to Baal has been laid down (17:1), the life of the prophet is in grave danger. God first grants provision for Elijah by a brook east of Jordan (vv. 2–7) and then by a widow in the foreign territory of Phoenicia (vv. 8–16). This provision is tested by the illness of the widow’s son (vv. 17–24); the gift of life brings faith to a foreigner as the prophet is confirmed as a man of God (v. 24). The restoration of life stirs a greater awe than the gift to sustain life (v. 16).

The contest at Mount Carmel (18:1–46) settles the question of who controls the rain, but it does not settle the question of worship in Israel. Elijah fears for his life, and it is not until he has a confirmation on the order of the call of Moses at Mount Horeb that his prophetic ministry resumes (19:1–18). The continuity of this prophetic affirmation is assured with the passing of the mantel on to Elisha (vv. 19–21).

This sequence is the result of a conscious arrangement of material.28 The contest at Mount Carmel (8:1–46) is at the center of the composition. The movement of the first section shows the fulfillment of the divine word, beginning with the prophetic announcement (17:1; 18:1) and ending in the fulfillment of pouring rain (18:41–46). The initial provision for the well-being of Elijah (17:2–24) is demonstrated mightily in his victory over the Baal prophets (18:20–40). The second section repeats the theme of challenge at the mountain. The first challenge at Mount Carmel is between Yahweh and Baal, and Ahab and Elijah. The second challenge at Mount Horeb is between the death threat of Jezebel and the death wish of Elijah (19:1–4), to the deliverance that Yahweh provides (vv. 11–18). The provision in the desert (vv. 5–8) and at Horeb (vv. 9–14) prepare the way for the pledge of ultimate victory (vv. 15–21). The fulfillment of the prophetic word and victory over the threat of death at Carmel and at Jezreel both focus attention on the confrontation with the Baal cult and the divine triumph over it.

Materialism. The Baal cult against which Elijah battles is in essence a religion of materialism. The detailed study of de Moor29 can be regarded as substantially correct in finding a seasonal pattern in the Baal ritual at Ugarit. The rule of Baal and the timely appearance of the fall and winter rains were crucial to agricultural success and the economic success of Israel. The alliance of Ahab with Phoenicia, with his marriage to Jezebel, daughter of Ethbaal, king of Sidon (16:31), made both Israel and Phoenicia dependent on the powers of Baal.

The Phoenician worship of Melqart of Tyre was a variation on the more ancient cult known at Ugarit.30 The name Melqart means “king of the city,” either Tyre or the dwellings of the dead. This god is probably a deified king or hero who has evolved into a cosmic god of prosperity.31 Ezekiel’s oracle against the king of Tyre (Ezek. 28:1–19) may have been directed against Melqart. Jezebel feverishly advocates some version of the religions of Baal and Melqart in Israel. Opposition to Baal is regarded as the cause of the bitter famine that drives the population to the point of starvation (1 Kings 18:17).

The basic meaning of “trouble” (ʿkr in 18:17) is to “stir up,” used in Mishnaic Hebrew to describe turgid liquids and murky waters. Elijah is regarded as a traitor disturbing the tranquility and prosperity of Israel. Baal is worshiped for his powers of providing wealth, but during the time of Elijah that worship does not bring about the desired results. The conclusion might be that Baal is unhappy with Israel and has withdrawn his life-giving power, or that his power over the forces of nature is being thwarted.

Materialism has the power to bring about a strange kind of double-mindedness. Desire for wealth displaces allegiance to God, though loyalty to God is claimed just the same. Ahab blames Elijah for the drought that has overtaken his land, apparently oblivious to the implicit irrationalism of doing so. If Baal truly had the power to rule the rains and bring wealth, as was supposed, Ahab’s zeal to the extent of killing the prophets of Yahweh should have brought prosperity, and Elijah should have been powerless to cause famine in the land (17:1). Recognition that Elijah’s devotion to Yahweh has brought about famine is in itself a concession to the fact that Baal did not have control over the rains.

The failure of Baal does not change the policy of Ahab. He is determined to promote the Baal religion, apparently with the belief that this course of events will make Israel wealthy. The fact that Elijah can temporarily interfere in his course of action only stirs up resistance rather than a change of mind. Even the defeat of the Baal prophets and the downpour of the rain do nothing to incite Ahab to change his own course of action. Ahab does not support Elijah against the threats of Jezebel; perhaps he is powerless to do so. If Jezebel is the patron of the Baal cult (18:19), possibly through her Phoenician connections, Ahab may not have been able to intervene.

The introduction of the four hundred prophets of Asherah (18:19), with no further mention of them,32 has sometimes been taken as evidence of Ahab’s impotence before Jezebel.33 In addition to the oath of Jezebel against Elijah (19:2), the Greek adds the phrase “as you are Elijah and I am Jezebel.” The ominous sound of the words—“you may be Elijah, but I am Jezebel”—are completely in keeping with the dominating and self-confident depiction of Jezebel. Materialism also has the power to trap its adherents in a web of circumstance from which it is virtually impossible to extricate oneself. This may have been part of Ahab’s dilemma, though nothing explicitly suggests his actions were anything but voluntary.

Israel does come to be wealthy in time. Several generations after Elijah, the prophet Amos denounces the wealth and luxury of Israel because it was gained at the expense of the poor and through the corruption of unjust practices. In the midst of this wealth Amos speaks of a famine in the land—not a famine from drought but a famine of inability to hear God’s word (Amos 8:11–14). These Israelites will wander the length of the land in a futile search for truth. They will take their oaths by Ashima (v. 14), a deity brought by Aramean settlers from Hamath to Samaria (2 Kings 17:30). They will swear by the god of Dan and Beersheba, the two cities that encompassed the entire land, but they will never rise again. Final judgment has come on Israel, and they will go into exile. During the days of Elijah there are two famines in the land. The famine of food is the result of a famine of the word of the covenant. The nation will survive the famine of food, but it cannot survive the famine of the divine word.

There is not a complete famine of the prophetic word during the days of Elijah. Though Elijah himself despairs in his zeal against Baal’s prophets, God does not abandon him. Elijah flees south into the desert in order to escape Jezebel, but God leads him to discover again the power of his mission. God finds Elijah at Mount Horeb in order to commission him again; Elijah is that prophet who will continue the work of Moses. Elijah anoints Hazael the Aramean, Jehu the Israelite, and Elisha the prophet as instruments by which Baal will be purged from the land.

Though materialism akin to that of the Baal cult may pervade Western society, the voice of the church is a hope in the midst of the spiritual famine. Worship of the god Mammon will lead to destruction; greed is unaware of the drought of better values, a drought that will lead to the decimation of an entire society. Though Christians in the Western world may feel threatened and despised like Elijah, the Word of God is present and may be heard as that still small voice. We are commissioned to follow our vocation or calling (19:15);34 our mission is to call a decadent society to the life of the kingdom of God. Though our society often gives lip service to the values of the kingdom, it is deceived in its attempt to serve two masters.

Significance of Elijah. In scriptural tradition Elijah has come to occupy a position as a successor to Moses in prophetic authority. The narrative of Elijah creates an association with Moses as a prophet with a distinguished mission in the life of Israel. Like Moses, Elijah is forced to flee at the wrath of a king (Ex. 2:15; 1 Kings 17:2–6). Like Moses in his challenge to Pharaoh, Elijah contests with Ahab and the prophets of Baal. Like Moses, Elijah spends forty days in the region of Mount Horeb in order to appear before God (1 Kings 19:8, 11). Like Moses, Elijah needs and receives assurance of the glory and the presence of God in order to fulfill his mission (Ex. 33:18–23; 1 Kings 19:13–17). Like Moses, Elijah feels the burden of the failure of the people to the point that he desires death (Num. 11:14–15; 1 Kings 19:3–4).35

Though Elijah is a successor to Moses in his zeal for Yahweh, he is not to be regarded as an equal to Moses.36 Storm, fire, and earthquake are present at the mountain, though the voice of God is only heard in “the sound of sheer silence” (NRSV). While Moses was promised that worship at the mountain would be a sign that he was sent and commissioned by God (Ex. 3:11–12), God twice asks Elijah what he is doing at the mountain (1 Kings 19:9, 14). There can only be one Moses who gives the covenant and the way of life for God’s people. There needs to be a prophet like Moses to preserve a remnant who will not bow the knee to Baal.

The role of Elijah in relation to Moses is found in the conclusion to Malachi (“my messenger”), the last of the prophetic writings.

Remember the law of my servant Moses, the decrees and laws I gave him at Horeb for all Israel.

See, I will send you the prophet Elijah before that great and dreadful day of the LORD comes. He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers; or else I will come and strike the land with a curse. (Mal. 4:4–6)

These verses must not be regarded as a “legalistic corrective” stemming from some disgruntled priestly editor.37 The reference to Moses is a reminder to the whole nation that it stands under the regulation of the covenant as given at Mount Horeb. The prophet’s attacks on the nation’s sins must not be misunderstood as an additional requirement for the faithful. The law and the prophets are not to be heard as rivals but as an essential unity within the divine purpose. Nor must the words of Malachi be used to add to the covenant and call into question the single voice of divine revelation.

At the same time the mention of Elijah is to point the direction to the future of the covenant. The messenger who will come to prepare the way of Yahweh will reconcile and unify the people just as Elijah did in the time of Ahab and Jezebel (Mal. 3:1). The future messenger will have the role of Elijah in making possible the renewal of a relationship with God.

Elijah becomes a popular figure in the emergence of Judaism. He is given a lengthy review in the Apocrypha (Sir. 48:1–11), concluding with the words of Malachi, saying that his mission will be the restoration of the tribes of Jacob. Mention is also made of him in the Ethiopic book of Enoch (1 Enoch 89:51–52). The book of 4 Ezra (ca. A.D. 100) mentions Elijah’s prayers for rain and the resuscitation of the child (4 Ezra 7:109). The same book has a prophecy that those who have been taken up and not tasted death from birth will appear before the Messiah (6:26).

Elijah plays a significant role in modern Judaism. He is mentioned when grace is said after meals: “May God in his mercy send us the prophet Elijah.” At a circumcision the child is placed on a seat and the following words are said:

This is the throne of Elijah; may he be remembered for good!

For thy salvation I have waited, O Lord. I have hope, O Lord, for thy salvation; and have done thy commandments. Elijah, thou angel of the covenant, lo, thine is before thee. Do thou stand at my right and sustain me. I have hoped for thy salvation, O Lord.38

Elijah also plays a significant role in the Passover. After the drinking of the third cup of wine, a fourth cup of wine is poured and the door is opened for Elijah the prophet. Everyone rises, and the following prayer is said:

Pour out Thy wrath upon the nations that know Thee not, and upon the kingdoms that call not upon Thy name; for they have consumed Jacob and laid waste his habitation. Pour out Thy rage upon them and let Thy fury overtake them. Pursue them in anger and destroy them from under the heavens of the Eternal.39

After the prayer the door is closed and all are seated. The book of Malachi ends with the promise that Elijah will bring reconciliation to the people and a warning that God may set a curse on the earth preparing it for destruction. The redemption celebrated in the Passover ceremony looks forward to the reconciliation of Israel and the destruction of all the ungodly.

Elijah also has a prominent role in Christian tradition. John the Baptist carries out the work of the messenger of Malachi (Mal. 3:1–3), coming as a refiner to prepare the people for the coming of Yahweh. John baptizes in the Jordan River as a sign of the purification of repentance (Matt. 3:4–12; Mark 1:4–8; Luke 3:7–14). He warns a generation of snakes that they need to change their ways. His generation needs to bear the fruit of their confession of sin or they will be cut down; the ax is already laid at the root of the tree.

The Baptist is identified as Elijah in the quotations of the angel to Zechariah (Luke 1:16–17) and the quotations of Zechariah concerning the child (1:76–77). Jesus himself affirms the identification of John the Baptist as the last prophet, the messenger Elijah who was to come (Matt. 11:7–15; Luke 7:24–28). The quotation from Malachi not only shows that John is the forerunner of the Messiah but presupposes that Jesus is conscious of the finality of his own mission to Israel.40 It is only fitting that Moses and Elijah join Jesus on the mount of Transfiguration (Matt. 17:1–8; Mark 9:2–8; Luke 9:28–36). Moses was the initiator of the covenant with Israel, as Malachi had said, and Elijah was the messenger who would restore that covenant before the coming of the Lord.

Only Luke makes reference in the Transfiguration to the hour of fulfillment, saying that the conversation with Moses and Elijah was about the exodos (“departure”) of Jesus (Luke 9:31). The reference to Jesus’ death as an exodus is a deliberate allusion to the redemption that had begun under Moses. The messenger for whom Elijah has prepared the way is now here, and the time has now come for those events to be fulfilled in Jerusalem.

Though Elijah came in the person of John the Baptist and the Lord brought about redemption in his death and ascension, the church awaits the Second Coming when this redemption will be consummated. The apostle John in Revelation unveils those events for the Christians being martyred under the tyranny of the Roman empire. With the blast of the seventh trumpet we are told that “the kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he will reign forever and ever” (Rev. 11:15). In preparation for this great event God sends the two witnesses who prophesy day and night during the days of great persecution (11:3).

A mixture of images is woven into the description of these two witnesses. The references to the witnesses calling down fire, shutting up the heavens so it cannot rain, and striking the earth with plagues (Rev. 11:5–6) recall the work of Moses and Elijah. It may be that John expects a glorified Moses and Elijah to return in person to prepare the way for redemption, as at the Mount of Transfiguration. However, the witnesses are identified with the two olive trees and the two lampstands (11:4), an interpretation of Zerubbabel and Joshua the high priest in Zechariah (cf. Zech. 4:2–3). Since John uses the lampstands to represent churches, it seems he wishes to indicate that the witnesses are the churches of Christ.41

As prophetic witnesses the churches fulfill the role of governors like Zerubbabel and priests like Joshua. Earlier John symbolized the whole church by seven lampstands (Rev. 1:20), but the two witnesses are depicted as lamps corresponding to the work of Moses and Elijah. The churches of Asia are given the function of Moses and Elijah to prepare the way for the coming of the Lord, when the kingdoms of this world become exclusively his own.

Contemporary Significance

Contemporary Significance

MATERIALISM. In ancient times, material well-being required that the gods be satisfied in order for them to bestow their bounty. In part religion served materialist desires; to a measure, materialism was the basis for religion. In modern times, materialism has itself become a religion.

Philosophical materialism is the theory that physical matter is the only reality and that everything, including thought, feeling, mind, and will, can be explained in terms of matter and physical phenomena. Ethically, materialism is the theory or attitude that physical well-being and worldly possessions constitute the greatest good and highest value in life. Socially and spiritually, materialism may be defined as a desire for wealth and material possessions with little interest in ethical or spiritual matters; it is the tendency to give undue importance to material interests, a devotion to the material nature and its wants. All of these definitions of materialism are related to each other, and all of them are an expression of religious values and viewpoints.

Modern society continues to operate largely on the materialistic premises of such thinkers as Charles Darwin, Karl Marx, and Sigmund Freud. Convinced that the only reality is material, true explanations become reductive. If you want to understand a flower, you explain its cell structure, not its beauty. If you want to explain humans, you do not look to their great achievements but to the raw materials that make them up. Thought is treated as the irrational product of environment or brain chemistry; reductionism permeates society from politics and social sciences to literature and the performing arts.

C. S. Lewis attacked such reductionism.42 A section of The Pilgrim’s Regress is entitled “Through Darkest Zeitgeistheim” (the darkest abode of the spirit of the age). A giant who represents materialistic reductionism apprehends Pilgrim. The eyes of the giant have the property of making whatever they look upon transparent. Pilgrim does not recognize a woman seated near him because what he sees is her skull, her brains, the passage of her nose, the larynx, the saliva in her glands, and the blood in her veins. Dropping his head, he sees only the inner workings of his own body. This, of course, is not what it means to be human; so dissected, a human does not become visible but dies. Lewis likens life to a drama; the reality of the drama is not the elements of the set but the production of the play. Materialists are caught in their own web of reasoning; if all thought is irrational, then so is the philosophy that propounds materialist ideas.

One of the legacies of materialism is coercive utopianism; this is the belief that the perfect society may be engineered through social science and planning. One version of this is the modern welfare state, in which government becomes ever more intrusive as planners ally themselves with the tools of materialist social science. In the name of social science and humanity, social scientists claim the right to remake society without having to obtain its consent. They believe in their own power to bring about complete material well-being and implicitly believe that this is the highest good, since it is the basis of fulfilling all other desires.

Such materialist objectives, even if achievable, cannot bring about the utopian promise. Materialist doctrines of moral relativism and denial of personal responsibility undermine the ideal society of materialist dreams. Materialist religion is as deceptive, destructive, and pervasive as Baalism in Ahab’s Israel.

Harvey Cox tells of his initiation into what a friend of his called the “real world” of business. Having studied religion all his life, he took the advice with a fear of the unknown; his angst, he says, was unnecessary:

Expecting a terra incognita, I found myself instead in the land of déjà vu. The lexicon of the Wall Street Journal and the business sections of Time and Newsweek turned out to bear a striking resemblance to Genesis, the Epistle to the Romans, and Saint Augustine’s City of God. Behind descriptions of market reforms, monetary policy, and the convolutions of the Dow, I gradually made out the pieces of a grand narrative about the inner meaning of human history, why things had gone wrong, and how to put them right.43

At the apex of the system of “business theology” Cox found its god, which he capitalizes as the Market, to signify the mystery that enshrouds it and the reverence that it inspires in business folk. Since the earliest stages of human history there have been bazaars, rialtos, and trading posts, but the Market was never God, because there were other centers of value and meaning, other “gods.” The Market operated within a plethora of other institutions that restrained it. Only in the past two centuries has the Market risen above these demigods and spirits to become today’s First Cause.

Cox suggests that of all the religions of the world, however they may differ from one another, the Market is their most formidable rival, particularly because it is scarcely recognized as a religion. Christianity and Judaism believe that the earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it. In the religion of the Market, humans own anything they buy, and within certain limits, can dispose of anything they choose. As the markets for material goods become increasingly glutted, such previously unmarketable states of grace as serenity and tranquility are now appearing in the catalogues. These can handily be bought, without an unrealistic demand on one’s time, in a weekend workshop at a Caribbean resort, with a sensitive psychological consultant replacing the crotchety retreat master. It does not seem that traditional faith will rise to challenge this new religion; it seems more likely that it will be absorbed by it.

Since no religion, new or old, is subject to empirical proof, this version of materialism is a contest between faiths. In the words of Cox, “Much is at stake. The Market, for example, strongly prefers individualism and mobility. Since it needs to shift people to wherever production requires them, it becomes wrathful when people cling to local traditions.”44 Valuing family or community relationships, for example, belongs to the older dispensations, and like the high places of the Baals, should be plowed under. It is more likely, as in Ahab’s Israel, new syncretisms will arise; new religions have ingenious ways of incorporating preexisting ones. There is one contradiction that cannot be accommodated in the religion of the Market; it is to know how much is enough. The first commandment of the Market is that there is never enough; the market that stops expanding dies.

Jesus gave a strong warning against the religion of the Market. It is not possible to make the pursuit of treasure on earth your life ambition and to serve God at the same time (Matt. 7:19–24). To do so is an attempt to serve two masters, God and Mammon. Mammon is known in both Aramaic and Greek languages as the name of a Syrian deity, the god of wealth or riches.45 Mammon is nothing other than some form of continuation of ancient religions that goes back to the time of Elijah. God demands that wealth be used in the furtherance of his kingdom; to use wealth for any other reason, even in giving, is a contradiction to devotion to God (Matt. 6:2–4).

It may seem strange that even giving can be a way of serving Mammon, but sometimes that is the case. It happens when motives for giving are dominated by something other than doing service for the kingdom of God. It may be for the sake of using money to obtain personal prestige. There is no indication Ahab has any intention of using his wealth for anything as noble as giving, but he presumes he can serve his Mammon and his God at the same time. The opposition of Elijah is a prominent example of the impossibility of serving two masters.

In an historical case study approach of American culture, Colleen McDannell examines the relationship of the sacred and the secular.46 In six studies, she argues for the shared meanings people derive from their religious material culture.47 “Christian commitments, musical taste, economic achievement, and domestic stability—none of these elements can be easily separated from the other.” “The practice of Christianity brings together the disparate elements of life that possess meaning: everything from our sense of style and social status to our trust in God.”48

The gap between official definition of religious significance and ordinary practice is intriguingly present in the use of Mormon “garments.” By refusing to offer official definitions, the church’s hierarchy assumes that God will reveal the true meaning to each wearer. As a result, members are left to conjure meaning on their own. McDannell discovered that physical discomfort and occasional personal embarrassment aside, garments reminded Mormons of their covenant with God and, especially for the religiously ambivalent, indicated communal loyalty. Her main point is that religion must be understood as part of the everyday lives of ordinary people who engage in the construction of meaning and surround themselves with the things that remind them of their connections to God.

Leigh Eric Schmidt offers another perspective on the relationship between consumerism and religion.49 John Wanamaker, an active Presbyterian businessman, transformed the interior of his department store in Philadelphia into a religious spectacle for Christmas and Easter. It displayed candlesticks, statues, religious tapestries, and flags to create an awe-inspiring ambience. This was aided by what was then the largest pipe organ in the world, with its own musical director and hymnals. Customers’ letters thanked Wanamaker for honoring Jesus Christ and for inspiring a feeling of communal togetherness. The success of such intentional blending of religion and commerce shows how integrated sacred and secular are in popular culture.

The possibility of self-deception is a constant reminder that faith requires rigor in examining every deed. There are always many motives for why actions are taken. Too often Christians are ready to make rules to guard the actions of others without ever taking sufficient time to examine themselves. It is easy to be picking at a speck in someone else’s eye while ignoring a beam in one’s own eye (Matt. 7:1–5). This is especially true in relation to materialism.

A public gift to a worthy Christian project can be a testimony of devotion to doing the work of God on earth. Just as easily, it can be a way of using money to draw attention to personal achievement. One is quite noble, while the other is quite vain. The difference is the attitude of the giver and remains hidden in the motives of the giver. Passing judgment on someone who chooses to give a public testimony to values of another kingdom is hypocrisy unworthy of true faith. The motives of others are between them and God; no one can read the mind of another, and presuming to do so by judging a public gift may just be a sign of rendering a service to Mammon.

Faith and its motivations can all too easily degenerate into indefensible rationalization, not so different from the hypocrisy attacked by Elijah. Jesus had gone all about the regions of Galilee, cities such as Korazin and Bethsaida on the north side of the Sea of Galilee (Matt. 11:21), the very regions that had been Ahab’s domain. There he performed many examples of healing and helping the people, so much so that it was evident the promise of Isaiah was fulfilled. This was the servant who would not quench the flickering wick or snap off the broken reed, but would bring justice and deliverance (Matt. 12:18–21; cf. Isa. 42:1–4).

Immediately after the quotation about the servant in Matthew, we are told about the healing of someone made blind and deaf by a demon (Matt. 12:22–23). Some immediately denied this possibility; they were willing to suggest instead that Jesus cast out demons by the prince of demons (v. 24). This was absurd on two grounds: first, a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand, and the kingdom of Satan was doing very well (vv. 25–26); second, the disciples of such Pharisees were also casting out demons, presumably by the same power (v. 27). The work of Jesus was nothing other than the coming of the kingdom of God (vv. 28–30).

Those who resort to such idiosyncrasies in defense of their own service of two masters have passed the point of no return. This is the kind of mental rejection of God, a blasphemy of his Spirit, that cannot be forgiven (Matt. 12:31–32). Ahab, in his rejection of Elijah, even after the defeat of the prophets of Baal, had crossed such a line. It was not possible for him to understand his fatal compromise with materialism.

Western religious hypocrisy. Jesus judged the hypocrisy of certain religious people with a direct reference to Elijah. According to Luke, Jesus customarily attended a synagogue in Nazareth, where he had grown up (Luke 4:16). On a given Sabbath he was given the opportunity to read from the Prophets. He chose words of Isaiah about bringing good news to the poor and the proclamation of the year of the Lord, a reference to the year of Jubilee and the redistribution of wealth (Isa. 61:1–2). Jesus declared his mission was to fulfill these words (Luke 4:16–21). Those who heard him were astonished at the knowledge and eloquence of someone from their own town (v. 22). They demanded the same demonstration of healing they had heard about from Capernaum. They were skeptics and did not believe such things happened in a distant locality.

Jesus reminded these townsfolk that their situation was no different than it had been in the days of Elijah. There were many poor widows during the drought of three and one-half years.50 Elijah was not sent to anyone in the land of Ahab but to a widow in Phoenician territory, in the city of Zarephath. A foreign Phoenician woman was quite prepared to accept by faith the word of Elijah (1 Kings 17:11–16) and to trust the God of Elijah when her son was restored to life (v. 24). Ahab and his leaders refused to leave their devotion to Baal, even when it was evident that their course of action was not bringing the prosperity they sought. The discouragement of Elijah was an indication how dismal the situation had come to be (19:10). Similarly, Jesus saw no value in seeking to convince the people of Nazareth.

Recognizing that they were being compared to the apostates of the time of Ahab, the people of Nazareth tried to kill Jesus (Luke 4:28–29). Jesus passed through their midst (v. 30), and as far as is known never went back to Nazareth again. The rejection of God can be final.

As in the case of the widow at Zarephath, true faith in God may be found in unexpected places, and it may happen in unexpected ways. Lamin Sanneh is the D. Willis James Professor of Missions and World Christianity and professor of history at Yale Divinity School. Gambian born, Sanneh is a descendant from the nyanchos, an ancient African royal line. His earliest education was with the sons of fellow chiefs. Following graduation from the University of London with a Ph.D. in Islamic history, he taught at the University of Ghana and in the University of Aberdeen (Scotland). He served for eight years as assistant and associate professor of the history of religion at Harvard University before moving to Yale University in 1989.51 Most significant is his conversion to Christianity.

Lamin Sanneh was raised in an orthodox Muslim family. Emphasis was placed on the community, tradition, fidelity to past models, respect for parents and elders, rote memorization of knowledge, and scarce material resources offset by a wealth of social capital. He became interested in Christianity through reading about Jesus in the Qurʾan. He had no access to the Bible or to a church, so the Qurʾan was his only source for knowledge of Jesus. He kept his interest to himself, because his teachers would react unpredictably and his Muslim friends would be scandalized.

Once Sanneh’s choice was made about the significance of Jesus in God’s work of salvation, it was not difficult to make the decision to join the church. But getting accepted in a Protestant church was another matter because of their suspicion and skepticism. Unofficially the Methodist church he approached welcomed his decision to seek baptism, but officially they put off the decision. They asked that he go to the Catholic Church, which he did for a year, with the same result. It took over two years until he was finally baptized in the Methodist church, as a result of an ultimatum he gave them.

With interest undiminished, Sanneh made the request to be allowed to study theology. This permission was denied, with the indication that the decision was final, with no appeals to be made to mission headquarters in London. In his words, “It so happened that I was so profoundly affected by the message of Jesus, so inexplicably transformed at the roots of faith and trust, that I felt myself in the grips of an undeniable impetus to give myself to God, whatever my ultimate career path. I never had cause to fret about the work which God might call me; so steadfast are God’s promises.”

Sanneh never went to a mission school and knew no missionaries when he embarked on his inquiry. The Protestant church remained incredulous of him; the Catholic Church eventually relented “after years of ignoring and wishing me away.” The reasons for this reluctance are unclear; it could be liberal distrust of religion, residual hostility toward converts as illegitimate fruits of mission, unfamiliarity with nonwhite people, presumptions about political motives, or some combination of the above.

Sanneh recalls a visit to Germany when he was on vacation from school in Africa. He saw a sign that said “The Episcopal Church Welcomes You,” and duly going there on Sunday discovered he was most unwelcome. His secular white American friend felt vindicated for ceasing to be a practicing Christian; it was all one big cultural pretense. He caustically observed that there would have been no problems if the guest were a white person; his advice was to never get literal with Christian slogans. A cultural paradigm had usurped the place of God in this enlightened scheme of things. That was one reason why for so long the church tried to make a sincere black convert feel guilty and untrustworthy for claiming the Christian name. The religious orientation of Sanneh was such that he was unable to reconcile himself to that fundamental compromise with the world. For him, Jesus was for real in spite of the prevarications of the church.

The testimony of Sanneh helps to put the experience of the widow at Zarephath in the days of Elijah or the experience of Jesus in Nazareth into modern perspective.52 The church is no less guilty of having faith so jaded by prejudice and surrounding culture that it is unable to recognize truth when confronted by it. Sanneh’s assessment is that the cultural captivity of Christianity in the West is nearly complete, and it is open season on the West’s Christian heritage. Without a moral center, the prospects of facing the ideological intolerance of a politically resurgent Islam are disturbing.

For Sanneh, the cultural captivity has not spared evangelicals. They tend to make religious militancy a partner with military might in a joint assault on the war on terror. There is the danger that the flag becomes a more prominent symbol than the cross. In the words of Sanneh, “With respect to cultural biases, we see the speck in the other person’s eye, but are blind to the splinter in our own” (Matt. 7:3).

According to Sanneh, an extraordinary new world of Christianity is unfolding; it is unprecedented, more vibrant, more varied, more widespread. The church of the post-Christian West views this unprecedented church growth with suspicion. It represents an unwelcome resistance to the cultural change they believe is the church’s mission. A post-Christian West sees religion as contagion and mobilizes behind a domesticated view of culture for safeguard. The West limits its role in this new, growing Christianity to taking precautions against too close an encounter with it. Religion is not about rejection of the old but about willingness to embrace the new. Sanneh believes that in the mystery of God, the energy of the revitalized global church will find its own channels for expression of biblical faith.