What is this? He discovered no hospitality in his homeland, and now you send him to a distant land, specifically to the wife of a widow? Even if she had been ample, even if she were the wealthiest, even if she was the wife of a king, even if her storerooms were filled with innumerable treasures, would the dread of famine not render her will more desolate than the bare earth? To prevent the prophet from expressing or entertaining such thoughts, God provided for him in advance through ravens (3 Kings 17:6), as if to illustrate to him through these actions: If I can cause unreasoning creatures to offer you refuge, how much more will those who have reason comply? Hence, the widow follows the ravens. The Jewish people are a people parched for the blood of prophets, accustomed to slaying the saints; they have consistently stained their hands with the blood of prophets. This is why when God sends him out of Judea, He instructs, “Go hence and ... hide yourself”; and when He directs him to the widow, He says, “I have commanded ... the widow woman.” Do you see how, at the moment when the prophet needed to escape, He directs him to act with utmost caution; yet when he must go to this place, He commands him to approach with confidence and bravery? Furthermore, God reveals something else through the prophet's journey to the widow. Later, as some observe how Christ, after performing numerous unspeakable acts of mercy in Judea—raising the dead, restoring sight to the blind, cleansing lepers, casting out demons, and sharing His marvelous and redemptive teachings—was honored by Gentiles who had neither witnessed nor heard anything of such, they were astonished and bewildered, perceiving it as unlikely; for God had long ago made evident to us the ingratitude of the Jews and the receptiveness of the Gentiles through the experiences of His servants. Therefore, Joseph was attempted to be killed by those to whom he was bringing nourishment but was elevated to great honor by an outsider. Likewise, Moses, who was once aided by the Jews, was cast away, while Jethro, a foreigner, embraced him warmly. Similarly, David was expelled by Saul after defeating Goliath and saving both king and city, yet received great respect from King Achish, a Philistine. Now, Elijah was expelled by the Jews and welcomed by the widow. Thus, when you observe Christ oppressed by the Jews and embraced by the Gentiles, do not be surprised at the reality of this event, recalling the imagery of old. You have heard the words of Christ, who articulated this very point. Addressing the outraged Jews, He stated, “There were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah... and Elijah was not sent to any of them, but only to a widow in Sarepta of Sidon” (Luke 4:25-26). Some may find it perplexing why God allowed such a fervent advocate for His glory to endure trials and tribulations, sending him to a brook or to a widow, effectively making him travel like an outcast. Indeed, he suffered tribulations and afflictions, as Paul recounts, saying, “wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, enduring tribulations, afflictions, hardships” (Hebrews 11:37). What then was the purpose of God allowing him to endure hardship? If He had imposed such afflictions on the Jews for their transgressions against Him, some could legitimately argue that Elijah suffered tribulation in order to cultivate gentleness and soften his harshness. However, if he avenged himself not against the Jews for their deeds against him, but rather permitted calamities upon them due to their wickedness and offenses against the Lord, why did he himself share in their troubles instead of enjoying peace and freedom? For if he had experienced ease and abundance while others faced destitution and hunger, it would seem wickedness, as it would not be surprising for a man in comfort to find solace in the misfortunes of others. Thus, God enabled him to partake in that affliction, to endure the calamities surrounding him, and to experience the famine, so that it would be clear he did not yearn for physical sustenance, but was motivated by divine zeal, for he would not have dared, under such circumstances, and filled with hardships, to retract the proclamation if not driven by deep righteous fervor. It was therefore more pleasing for him to suffer misfortune himself and witness the Jews reformed rather than revoke the necessary decree and witness their return to iniquity. Such are the souls of saints in every place: for the correction of others they sacrifice their own well-being. To prevent anyone from claiming Elijah prolonged the famine due to cruelty, God allowed him to share in that famine, indicating the prophet’s compassion. Furthermore, since miracles, by nature, often lead the miracle-workers to be viewed as greater than humanity, God infused both miracle and human frailty into the situation. This is evident in Paul’s words: “And lest I should be exalted by the abundance of the revelations, there was given me a thorn in the flesh, an angel of Satan, to buffet me, that I should not be exalted above measure” (2 Cor. 12:7). The temptation to view miracle-workers as superior to human nature is clear from his words. After speaking of his revelations, the apostle states, “If I want to boast, I will not be foolish, for I will speak the truth.” Why then do you not boast? “I refrain, lest anyone should think more of me than what he sees in me or hears from me” (2 Cor. 12:6). To prevent something similar from occurring to the prophet—who, despite being Elijah, was still a man—God intertwined human weakness with divine wonder. Hence, he who commanded the heavens could not satiate his hunger; he who halted the earth's fertility could not eliminate bodily needs but relied on a widow to provide sustenance, illustrating both divine grace and human vulnerability. Moreover, this event provided another significant benefit: when one is summoned into prophetic devotion for God, they should not falter in despair, assuming Elijah was of a different nature and thus possessed such boldness before God. This is what a certain person expressed, saying, “Elijah was a man subject to like passions as we are” (James 5:17)—implying that one should not think attaining such wisdom was impossible, for he shared our nature. Rather, the extraordinary and divine disposition of his will set him apart. When the ravens ceased to sustain him, and a considerable time passed, Elijah moved to another location, traversing the land under the weight of famine, seeking sustenance from a Gentile widow in her poverty. As God desired him to embrace his humanity more profoundly, after the Jews were forbidden to mingle with Gentiles, He instructed the prophet on his future course of action: “Arise,” He said, “and go to Sarepta of Sidon, and abide there; I have commanded a widow woman there to sustain you.” Upon hearing “to a Gentile,” he may have felt repulsed by such sustenance and hoped for rain instead. Yet, these words did not soften his resolve; he urgently made his way to the abode where the Gentile widow awaited him with hospitality.
When the brook finally ran dry, God directed the prophet to seek nourishment. “Go,” He commanded, “to Sarepta of Sidon... I have commanded there a widow to sustain you.” This divine order was issued with a specific intention. Since Elijah was unaware of the widespread calamity, remaining in one place while nature suffered anguish—plants wilting, animals perishing, children dying, mothers weeping, and the land suffering—God then stirred him to journey across the desolate landscape to Sidon, allowing him to witness the devastation, prompting him to pray for rain. God’s guidance was not because He could not sustain Elijah in his current location; He chose to display the catastrophe so Elijah could intercede for the rain. Certainly, God could have acted without him, but He refrained from making Elijah appear as the source of misfortunes while portraying Himself as the giver of blessings, thus waiting for the prophet’s prayer. Yet, Elijah remained unconsoled, driven by fervor, rushing forward without consideration, as he overflowed with zeal. Why, Elijah, do you present such inhumanity? Should you not pause and recognize your potential for correction? Because of the sins of the people, you called for drought, shuttered the skies, shackled the earth’s bounty, disrupted the flow of creation, and yet do you not yearn to pray for its end? Soon, you may find yourself guilty and find mercy from the Lord, enabling you to show compassion to your fellow beings. I recount this today to illustrate that the priest is not an angel but rather a man among men, so that sinners are not alienated from the sinless. Were a sinless angel a priest, he would swiftly chastise those who err; hence, man is set forth, so that he may extend understanding to the subservient by recalling his own struggles. We also pointed out that God permitted esteemed figures entrusted with people to fall into sin, granting them forgiveness so they could become more empathetic. I referenced Peter the apostle as an example of one allowed to stumble, yet through repentance erased that transgression by God’s mercy. Now, let us return to Elijah, revealing both the depth of his works and how God aimed to exhibit compassion, while Elijah failed to manifest such. God wished to send rain but awaited the servant's prayer.
