Since miracles are largely unexaminable, my greatest interest when I encounter spectacles in the Bible is to examine the very human reactions to them. For example, how can Elijah on Mt. Carmel in I Kings 18 witness the calling down of fire from heaven, but in the very next moment, we find him cowering in a cave, hiding from Jezebel’s death threats? Why did the effect on Elijah and his audience of the show of divine might on Mt. Carmel not seem to last even 24 hours? What did Elijah the human being need from God? (And, as we ask every month, what might this teach about living in Christ here in the climate change crisis?)
I won’t argue that the adoption of the Paris Agreement at COP21 in 2015 was a miracle, but many of us, including the architect of the Paris Agreement, Christina Figueres, felt the hand of God at work. Certainly, it was a heady moment. Gone was the lethargy of the Kyoto Protocol and the disappointment of the Copenhagen Accord. Here for a moment was the world working in concert: climate change is real, urgent, and we need to do something about it. The years that followed were challenging. In 2017, the US President in his first term announced that his country was withdrawing from the Agreement. Righteous momentum however was on the side of states like California, municipalities like New York City, businesses like Apple, and others who declared, “We are Still In.” Even the UNFCCC made adjustments, allowing for a category of “subnationals” who could participate in the Paris Process. Consequently, in 2021 at COP26 in Glasgow when the Paris Agreement went into full effect, there was the same heady sense that we could press forward.
Elijah’s victory on Mt. Carmel over false prophets and idolators was stunning. “Then the fire of the Lord fell and burned up the sacrifice, the wood, the stones and the soil, and also licked up the water in the trench” (I Kings 18:38). Elijah had engaged the contest with a specific purpose mentioned in his prayer: “Answer me, Lord, answer me, so these people will know that you, Lord, are God, and that you are turning their hearts back again” (I Kings 18:37). It seemed to have worked; “When all the people saw this, they fell prostrate and cried, “The Lord—he is God! The Lord—he is God!” (I Kings 18:39). We could perhaps argue that what immediately follows--the arrest and execution of all the prophets of Baal—also represents progress on the prophet’s agenda.
When the wicked King Abab reports to his wife Jezebel about “everything Elijah had done and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword”, she swears by the gods to see Elijah killed. (I can imagine the C-suites and board rooms of the fossil fuel companies getting the initial reports about the Paris Agreement.) How does this affect Elijah? “Elijah was afraid and ran for his life” (I Kings 19:3). He went by himself a day’s journey into the wilderness. He prayed that he might die.
How are you feeling, here in the summer of 2025? Last week, the EPA in Trump 2.0 proclaimed their intent to repeal the Endangerment Finding on greenhouse gases. Administrator Lee Zeldin hopes it will be the final nail in the coffin of what he calls “climate change religion.” (Is it any wonder that I call these guys MAGA idolators?”) I was in Paris and Glasgow for COPs 21 and 26, and yes, a lot there felt a lot like Mt. Carmel. I am planning on going to COP30 in Belém, Brazil and I wonder whether it will feel more like tucking up under Elijah’s broom bush where he prayed, “I have had enough. Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors” (I Kings 19:4). I’m not pining for death, but we have had many colleagues who are retiring early from their climate careers and ministries. They’ve had enough. And this statement—“I am no better than my ancestors”—surely hits me as a recognition that our activism is not exceptional from previous generations who have experienced disappointment.
Part of the problem in how we, even how Elijah, interpret the Mt. Carmel experience of I Kings 18 is that we get wrapped up in the immediacy of the contest, whether between Elijah and the prophets of Baal, or Elijah and Jezebel. Who is right? Who has God on their side? Who is deserving of death? But the context of I Kings 18 has little to do with contest. There was a severe famine in Samaria, and the chapter begins: “After a long time, in the third year, the word of the Lord came to Elijah: “Go and present yourself to Ahab, and I will send rain on the land” (v. 1). We can be tempted to read the end of the chapter (vs. 41-46)—an exchange among Elijah, his servant, and Ahab about rain clouds--as some strange denouement after the climax of fire sent from heaven. But the rain that breaks the famine was the main point all along! The rain was the divine intervention. God promised it; God delivered it; and Jezebel could never take up the rain from the soil even should it fall on the murdered corpse of Elijah.
What did Elijah the human being need? (What do you need in the summer of 2025?) Apparently, he needed some immediate food and water (I Kings 19: 5-8). He needed some rest. It’s been an excruciatingly exhausting six months for us in climate action. Be kind to yourself. I’ve been advising all my friends: please plan restful and rejuvenating vacations this summer, if you are taking one. When Elijah ran the 30 kms (19 miles) from Mt. Carmel to Jezreel at the end of I Kings 18, we are told it was because “the power of the Lord” had come upon him. But now when he travels forty days and forty nights to Horeb, we are told that Elijah got up and ate and drank, and because he was “strengthened by that food” he could travel (I Kings 19:8). Nothing more “miraculous” than that.
Mount Horeb is explicitly called in the text, “the mountain of God.” It was the site where Moses encountered the burning bush and where Moses talked to God and received the Ten Commandments. I interpret this as God calling us back to our beginnings with him, back to the origin stories of him calling us into climate action. I also interpret this as God calling us back to a listening posture, to seeking his voice. The fact of the matter is that God doesn’t appear to have spoken to Elijah on Mt. Carmel at all. But now he will. And, if you recall the story, that voice from God would not come in the wind, the earthquake, or a fire (I Kings 19:11-12). It would come in the form of a gentle whisper, and Elijah recognized it and walked out to the mouth of the cave to listen.
God first asks, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” God knows the answer to that question, but Elijah needs to own it and verbalize it. We too need to be honest before our own selves and before God. Don’t be afraid to verbalize out loud your own version of Elijah’s outcry: “I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, torn down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too” (I Kings 19:14). God doesn’t shame Elijah for his feeling. God listens.
The story of Mt. Carmel and its aftermath seems to teach us climate activists in the summer of 2025:
- Focus on the big picture, not on the immediate contest.
- Eat, drink, and take proactive rest.
- Return to whatever is the “mountain of God” for your beginnings; it won’t be Mt. Carmel.
- Listen for the voice of God, at least in this season, as a quiet whisper.
- Verbalize out loud, either to God or to a trusted friend, your exhaustion and emotions.
- And then to conclude Elijah’s story: be open to a change of arrangement, perhaps including a passing of the torch. God commands Elijah to go anoint Hazael and Jehu who would replace the kings that Elijah had known. He was also to anoint Elisha to replace him as a prophet. Meanwhile, he was always to remember that, as God says, “I reserve seven thousand in Israel—all whose knees have not bowed down to Baal and whose mouths have not kissed him” (I Kings 19:15-18).
You are very dear to God,
Lowell Bliss
On behalf of the Climate Intercessors Leadership Team
