The Angel Waking Elijah: Resentful Caregiving and the Malicious Compliance of Older Siblings
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Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, “So let the gods do to me, and more also, if I do not make your life as the life of one of them by tomorrow about this time.” And when he saw that, he arose and ran for his life, and went to Beersheba, which belongs to Judah, and left his servant there.
But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he prayed that he might die, and said, “It is enough! Now, Lord, take my life, for I am no better than my fathers!”
Then as he lay and slept under a broom tree, suddenly an angel touched him, and said to him, “Arise and eat.” Then he looked, and there by his head was a cake baked on coals, and a jar of water. So he ate and drank, and lay down again. And the angel of the Lord came back the second time, and touched him, and said, “Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for you.” So he arose, and ate and drank; and he went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights as far as Horeb, the mountain of God.
-1 Kings 19:2-8
Much is often made of the fact that “Fear not” is the most frequently-repeated line of angelic dialogue in the Bible; not quite enough is made of the waspish attitude those angels so often take towards their targets. It is the nettled, martyred tone of the older sibling sent to look after a younger: “Mom sent me. Hurry up.”
It’s the natural outgrowth, I think, of that popular Chesterton line about God having the eternal appetite of infancy (“For we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we”); an angel is the oldest a creature can get without ever having to grow up, and they are forever tasked with one of the most tiresome obligations of childhood, having to wake up a younger sibling who has overslept.
It is a commonplace that younger children have it “easier” than the eldest; I suspect the reality varies from family to family, but it is generally true that younger children are rarely sent to wake up an older brother or sister. That task almost always radiates downwards.
“I’m here to take care of you, but it wasn’t my idea” is the spirit behind that begrudging offer of assistance. It is often a person’s earliest experience with malicious compliance – “Mom said I had to get you up, but she didn’t say how I had to do it,” followed by a Dixie cup of cold water to the face, or the sudden and undignified whipping-away of one’s bedclothes. The malice might be softened by affection, or roughened by genuine hostility, depending on the family, the sibling, and the day in question.
I never feel sorry for the elder brother in the Prodigal Son parable, for example. He’s unimaginative, and he’s a whiner, and difficult to like, even, I suspect, for those who are predisposed to think he’s right. He is no one’s idol.
But I do often feel a little sorry for angels, who must have had uninterrupted ages of splendid, well-behaved only-childhood before the rude and sudden onset of humanity. The sons of the mighty, now nannies-in-training: Angel, explain this vision to Daniel.1 Angel, tell Zechariah he’s not allowed to speak until he’s sorry.2 Angel, tell the boy to take off his shoes and not to stand so close to the damn fire.3
“If Mom likes you, I’ve got to tolerate you, but no more” has served as a good-enough policy for toddlers meeting new infants the world over. (Some toddlers may be thrilled to meet their new baby siblings, but they are hardly the rule, I think.) This may be no more than personal speculation, but one gets the sense, taking the angelic encounters of the Bible as a whole, that they are willing but not thrilled to serve humanity.
One of the things I miss most about being a sibling is that peculiar sense of propietary irritation: I have a real claim to dislike you, and that claim feels solid and durable precisely for its lack of sentimentality. That’s not to say I felt irritated with my siblings most of the time, but that general air of “You’ll never impress me, you’re just my kid brother/big sister” felt talismanic, like our relationship to one another would always be safe and secure precisely because we had no illusions about one another, no rose-colored glasses at risk of shattering.
This Rubens angel is a lovely example. He is rosy, youthful, and spry, and clearly galled at being made responsible for bringing lunch to this dramatic old man, who is nevertheless countless centuries his junior.
Why are you making such a big deal out of this? One person threatens you and you run naked in the desert begging to die? Put a shirt on. Drink this. Take a little heart, why don’t you. Jesus. There’s no way you’re going to be able to get through this hike if you don’t eat something. God, you people can’ t do anything.
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Even greater beauty, and a higher degree of contempt, are united in Kneller’s angel. Do I have to touch him? I don’t want to touch him. I can’t tell if the wrinkles are from the clothes or from the skin.
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Leighton really sells us on Elijah’s uselessness, too; the perfectly strong, hearty middle-aged body arced in a gesture of hysteric complaint. Get a hold of yourself. My God.
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This is another familiar technique, the approach of feigned, exaggerated gentleness, which is designed to let the younger sibling know you think they’re being a huge fucking baby. A stage whisper, an offer of assistance that would be appropriate for a child at least three years younger, a polite implication of name-calling, never the name direct. Hey buddy. Are you okay? I brought you this big bottle of juice. Mom says you have to get up. Take all the time you need but you should know Dad already has his shoes on.
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The face is comparatively gentle, but the finger is accusatory, even threatening. There are two ways this bread can end up in your mouth, old man. Either you put it there or I do. Some people would be embarrassed to have given up this fast, you know.
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There is lunch. Do you think you can make it over there yourself, or do you need me to carry you over there and feed you myself? I’ll do it, but it’s gonna hurt.
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You have to wake up. Mom’s gonna be so mad at me if you don’t wake up.
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Daniel 8:15-16
Luke 1:19-20
Exodus 3:2-6
Danny! You have surpassed yourself!!! YOU HAVE WINGS NOW!
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