Get Up and Eat
THIS POST WAS ORIGINALLY DELIVERED AS A SERMON IN MARQUAND CHAPEL AT YALE DIVINITY SCHOOL ON OCTOBER 7, 2019.
I have bipolar disorder with anxiety.
While I’d like to say that suicidality is not something that I’ve struggled with, I most certainly have.
I have a long and complicated history with food and the image I see when I look in the mirror.
There is something strange about Yale, which is unfortunately not that strange at all, that makes Mental Health Awareness Week necessary. There is something embedded in this culture that says if you’re struggling with something – you’re weaker than everybody else. If you’re not 100% productive and 100% happy to be here 100% of the time, there must be something wrong with you. There’s a voice inside each of our heads that says that people will judge us if they know the truth. And, unfortunately, that voice may not be wrong. We like to think we’re above that here at YDS, but the reality is that we judge each other. And when we’re not judging each other, we are judging ourselves. And, it looks just like this: maybe I’m not good enough for my vocation. Maybe I won’t be able to cope. Maybe, just maybe, I’m not the person God thinks I can be.
I have thought all of those things, and more. And, whether you’ve noticed it or not, it has happened right in front of you. And, it’s not just happening to me. It’s happening to a lot of us. Right now. This week. In this awful last long stretch before reading period. The journey ahead looks rough and we don’t want to do it.
Our Bible passage this morning tells a story of a great prophet. In 1 Kings 19 we see Elijah in the wilderness. This mighty man of God is deeply deeply afraid. As he sits alone, he pleads with God. It is enough he cries. Take away my life. Elijah asks God to relieve him of his pain. He asks God for it all to be over. He asks God to make it stop. And then, exhausted by the weight of his ask, exhausted by the pain that brought him to that place, exhausted from running all day in the wilderness, Elijah falls asleep. He cannot bear to pray anymore.
One commentator wrote of this moment that Elijah’s fatigue is what leads him to despair. But, let’s be real, despair can lead to fatigue just as much as fatigue can lead to despair. The sequence of pleading and praying and then falling asleep and then pleading and praying some more as one I find all-too-familiar.
Seeing this intimate moment in the Bible is a necessary reminder to us that even those we see as leaders are not exempt from the deepest of depressions. Those who think are ok may very well not be OK. And those who you think would never, could never, have a mental health condition may very well have one. Depression doesn’t go away because you’re a prophet, just like depression doesn’t go away when you put Yale on your resume.
I could spend the next couple minutes talking about how Elijah’s depression gives us comfort, and it does. But, what happens next in the story of Elijah is important too.
Elijah was alone under the broom tree … until he wasn’t anymore.
Suddenly, an angel touched him and said to r him, “Get up and eat.” He looked, and there at his head was food and water.
“Get up and eat.”
This is not a command, but a kind invitation.
God does not chastise Elijah for being depressed.
God does not question his call.
God does not tell him to “suck it up and move on.”
Instead, Elijah is wrapped in love. The angel’s actions are small, but they mean the world. The angel communicates that Elijah is worth immeasurably more than he himself would believe, and God’s grace, love and compassion are communicated through a simple offering. When thinking about the actions of this angel, many have identified it as a “gentle whisper.” They have written about God talking quietly, but the quiet things speak loud when done well.
Everyone in this room has the capacity to be there for someone, to subvert the norm that says you should only look out for yourself.
It is the people who show up time and time again that invite me to “get up and eat.” Their actions may seem small to you, but they made the world of difference. The people who came to visit me in the psych ward. The people who drove me to my doctor’s appointments. The people who ask me how I am, actually caring to know the answer. The people who hold me in prayer. The prayer who actually hold me. It is these people who feed me. They are the ones who offer me something to eat.
Elijah takes and he eats, but then he falls down again. But, the angel lovingly persisted. The angel did not disappear. The angel continued to offer, “get up and eat.” The angel knew that Elijah has a long journey ahead, and the angel does not leave until Elijah is ready to go.
Our call to feed another person is not just an invitation to provide physical food. It is a necessary call to meet the needs of others so that they too can be fed for the journey ahead. We will each leave this place to embark on great paths, but we all need to be fed in order to be prepared for them. As Carrie Fisher said, people with depression and bipolar and anxiety and more can and do incredible things. But, I’m confident they don’t get there alone. They have help. It’s just this help isn’t seen all that often.
God can use the small things that you do to radically change someone’s life. You may be the miracle someone was praying for. You may be a moment of relief in a seemingly everlasting pain. And, you may be a source of laughter when someone could barely force a smile. All of these things matter, because if we add up all the small things, we suddenly find ourselves changing our communities and building new norms.
When we meet people in the places they hide from the world, we are doing God’s work. We must – as the angel did – meet people where they are, love them where they are and be with them where they are.
And yet, there is still work to be done. There needs to be more people acting as angels. They need to come in the form of friends and mentors and professors and advisors and pastors and chaplains. We need to subvert the norms of this place and allow each other to be sad and mad and stressed and anxious and tired. This is love and We need to do it better.
There is not one person that is unworthy of this love. Isn’t that what Jesus teaches us? No matter what this place tells you, no matter what you have been told, no matter what your grades are, no matter how much money there is in your bank account, no matter how you feel, you are loved, you matter and you mean something. Life is worth the fight. Your call and your vocation are real. God thinks you’re awesome. And, nothing that anyone or any place can say or do will change that.
God caught me when I was crying out, “It is enough.”
God’s love never ran out, even when I felt I could no longer love myself.
And, when I couldn’t get out of bed, God met me there.
God can meet you there too.
