We Have Not Come Very Far

We  Have Not Come Very Far

Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, ‘So may the gods do to me, and more also, if I do not make your life like the life of one of them by this time tomorrow.’ Then he was afraid; he got up and fled for his life...

— From 1 Kings 19

Let’s talk about two types of people today.

First, there’s Jezebel and her crowd.

They’ve got power. Popularity. The influencers. The celebrities. The scientists. The respected clergy. The money. They’re having a blast—throwing parties, flaunting decadence, praising their “gods,” and calling it justice. And if anyone dares question the mood of the moment, they’re labeled hateful, dangerous, or worse.

They believe they’re the good ones.

They appeal to their version of the divine—“the gods,” Jezebel says—with a veneer of righteousness: “I’d gladly risk my life to rid the world of this evil man, Elijah.” In her world, Elijah is the villain. Probably a bigot, a threat to progress, a symbol of outdated values.

The chilling part? She believes it.

Because bad people rarely think of themselves as bad. They believe themselves to be principled. Enlightened. On the right side of history.

Then there's Elijah.

He’s not just unpopular—he’s alone.

Nobody is backing him. Not the rulers. Not the influencers. Not even the silent majority. The faithful are too tired. Too afraid. Too eager to stay out of trouble.

Elijah starts to think, Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I am the problem.

And don’t we all get to that point?

When nobody stands with you, even the right thing can start to feel like the wrong thing. Especially when the crowds are loud and laughing. When your name is being cursed by people who’ve never even met you. When even the nominally faithful quietly go along with the condemnation—because it's safer. Because their families are watching. Because it feels so good to be part of the crowd.

I’ve seen that crowd. So have you.

They chant. They post. They celebrate “allyship” and shame.

And they convince themselves they are the light.

And then there's us—those trying to follow Christ, but weary of being shouted down, misunderstood, or simply ignored. We start to wonder: What’s the point?

Last weekend, someone posted during a wave of global protests:

“All we need is 3.5% to stop the madness—and we’re already there!”

That’s how democracy works, they said.

But it isn’t democracy—it’s performance.

A crowd doesn’t always equal righteousness.

Sometimes, it’s just a really efficient way to silence the Elijahs of the world.

We’ve seen this before.

People convinced of their virtue.

Crowds too loud to hear the quiet truth.

Prophets too alone to keep going.

Jezebel and Elijah.

We haven’t come very far in 3,000 years.