Thank you again for the opportunity to preach this morning.  I am going to follow Pastor Steve’s summer habit of preaching from the Old Testament and Gospel readings in the lectionary.  It’s sometimes confusing to see how the various readings in the lectionary fit together, but fortunately for me today, the two dovetail very nicely.  They both address the meaning of discipleship and how it plays out in a world where things are seldom stable or easy or clear.

Our Old Testament reading concerns the transition of prophetic leadership from one of the greatest prophets of all time, Elijah the Tishbite, to his right-hand man and disciple, Elisha.  You may remember that after Elijah’s amazing victory at Mt. Carmel, he experienced a sudden loss of confidence and fled from Queen Jezebel.  In short, Elijah was a broken man, and part of his renewal were instructions from God to find Elisha and anoint him as Elijah’s successor and helper.  Let me read the text in First Kings that describes this encounter:

So Elijah went from there and found Elisha son of Shaphat.  He was plowing with twelve yoke of oxen, and he himself was driving the twelfth pair.  Elijah went up to him and threw his cloak around him.  Elisha then left his oxen and ran after Elijah.  “Let me kiss my father and mother good-by,” he said, “and then I will come with you.”  “Go back,” Elijah replied, “What have I done to you?”  So Elisha left him and went back.  He took his yoke of oxen and slaughtered them.  He burned the plowing equipment to cook the meat and gave it to the people, and they ate.  The he set out to follow Elijah and became his attendant.

Elisha knew immediately what it meant when Elijah threw his cloak around him.  He was passing on his authority, ministry, and divine call to this young man.  We have an expression in our culture about “taking on someone’s mantle,” and this is exactly what is happening here.  But please notice that Elisha then asks permission to at least give a proper good-by to his family.  He is obviously a devoted son and knows that his new life will take him far from home.  Elijah’s response is neither encouraging or discouraging.  In modern English, we might translate his words to mean, “Do what you have to do.  After all, I’m just obeying God.  You decide whether my laying this cloak on your shoulders means anything.” 

But Elisha is not equivocating at all.  He gives his family a solemn good-by and then hastens on to his new calling as a disciple of the great prophet.  And for a number of years he faithfully serves Elijah.  Which brings us to our lectionary reading for today.

When the Lord was about to take Elijah up to heaven in a whirlwind, Elijah and Elisha were on their way from Gilgal.  Elijah said to Elisha, “Stay here; the Lord has sent me to Bethel.”  But Elisha said, “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.”  So they went down to Bethel.

Both men know the end of Elijah’s mortal life had come.  He had labored as a prophet for almost thirty years through some of the darkest days in Israel’s history.  It would appear that since Elijah knows that he is about to be taken by God, he is trying to spare his disciple the grief of actually witnessing it, and so he asks him to remain in Gilgal.  I do not think Elijah knew how God would take him—whether it would be by natural death or whatever.  There is an obvious bond of deep love between these two men.  Elisha refuses to stay in Gilgal and so they continue on together.  Our lectionary skips over several verses that I think are helpful, so let me read them now.

The company of the prophets at Bethel came out to Elisha and asked, “Do you know that the Lord is going to take your master from you today?”  “Yes, I know,” Elisha replied, “but do not speak of it.”  Then Elijah said to him, “Stay here, Elisha; the Lord has sent me to Jericho.”  And he replied, “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.”  So they went to Jericho.  The company of the prophets at Jericho went up to Elisha and asked him, “Do you know that the Lord is going to take your master from you today?”  “Yes, I know,” he replied, “but do not speak of it.”  Then Elijah said to him, “Stay here; the Lord has sent me to the Jordan.”  And he replied, “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.”  So the two of them walked on.

Elijah tries to shake off Elisha three times, but Elisha’s commitment is steadfast.  There are several things going on here.  Yes, they all know this is Elijah’s last day on earth.  And Elijah is trying to give Elisha every opportunity to separate himself from this painful event.  But he was also, in an oblique way, testing Elisha’s actual commitment to the prophetic ministry itself.  He is offering him a way out.  Things were still very unstable politically and spiritually in Israel at that time.  Dark days still lay ahead.  With Elijah gone the prophetic leadership would fall largely on Elisha’s shoulders.  Is he ready for this?

Which brings us to the climax of this story at the Jordan River, which is where our lectionary reading picks up again.

Fifty men of the company of the prophets went and stood at a distance, facing the place where Elijah and Elisha had stopped at the Jordan.  Elijah took his cloak, rolled it up and struck the water with it.  The water divided to the right and to the left, and the two of them crossed over on dry ground.

The details of this scene are very important.  The general company of prophets are standing at a distance to see what will happen to Elijah.  He takes his cloak, the very same mantle that he had placed on Elisha’s shoulders years before, and demonstrates symbolically that the power that has been at work in his life was not from Elijah himself.  It was the power of God at work through him in the same way that same power is now working through a simple cloak.  And it was obviously a power that could be handed over to someone else. 

And so just the two of them cross over, for now the focus is strictly between Elijah and Elisha, as we read next:

When they crossed, Elijah said to Elisha, “Tell me, what can I do for you before I am taken from you?” 

The moment of truth has come.  This is Elisha’s big chance.  If he ever had an opportunity to beg off or limit the impact of Elijah’s departure, now was the time.  Would he admit that he was not up to the task?  Or that he needed those other fifty prophets to step up to the plate?  Or that he wanted a transfer to a safer place like being a prophet in Judah?  Listen to his reply:

“Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit,” Elisha replied.

Elisha’s response is remarkable in that it displays both humility and courage at the very same time.  He is essentially saying, “God has called me to this ministry, and so here I will stay, but O father Elijah, I feel so inadequate.  Grant me that power you have from God, only please double it, for in myself I am weaker than you.”

And Elijah, being the honest man that he was, doesn’t offer shallow encouragement.  He knows Elisha is in for a rough time in the years ahead and earnestly would like to grant his request, but such a thing is work of God, not man.  And so with great sobriety he replies,

“You have asked a difficult thing,” Elijah said, “yet if you see me when I am taken from you, it will be yours—otherwise not.”

In other words, it is up to God.  It is God who calls and God who equips in different ways.  Elijah essentially tells him that if God allows him to actually witness his departure—to have the eyes of faith to see it, he would get his desire.  And so the moment arrives, as we read next:

As they were walking along and talking together, suddenly a chariot of fire and horses of fire appeared and separated the two of them, and Elijah went up to heaven in a whirlwind.  Elisha saw this and cried out, “My father!  My father!  The chariots and horsemen of Israel!”  And Elisha saw him no more.  Then he took hold of his own clothes and tore them apart.

Elijah is taken up to be with God suddenly, violently, and yet gloriously.  It’s a vision not of death but of resurrection.  But for Elisha it’s separation nonetheless, and so he still feels the pain of loss.  However, he also notices an item that Elijah left behind, as we read in verse 13.

He picked up the cloak that had fallen from Elijah and went back and stood on the bank of the Jordan.

He sees this cloak, this mantle, that had come to symbolize so vividly the Lord’s calling and power.  And he must now know once and for all if his request for double the spirit of Elijah had been answered.  He returns to the bank of the river they had just crossed, with the fifty prophets still waiting on the other side.  And this is what we read:

Then he took the cloak that had fallen from him and struck the water with it.  “Where now is the Lord, the God of Elijah?” he asked.  When he struck the water, it divided to the right and to the left, and he crossed over.  The company of the prophets from Jericho, who were watching, said, “The spirit of Elijah is resting on Elisha.”

End of story, but not the end of Elijah.  He would remain in the collective consciousness of the people of Israel for centuries.  Even the last verses of the very last book of the Old Testament make reference to him.  Let me read them:

See, I will send you the prophet Elijah before that great and dreadful day of the Lord comes.  He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers, lest I come and strike the land with a curse.

And it was our Lord himself who declared that John the Baptist was indeed this person who had come with that same spirit of Elijah and prepared the way for the the Messiah.  Which brings us to our gospel reading today from Luke, chapter 9, beginning with verse 51:

As time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem. 

The parallel here to the story of Elijah is obvious.  Like Elijah, Jesus knows that God is calling him home, and so he sets his course to Jerusalem, knowing full well what awaits him there.  It is important to note that in Matthew, Mark, and Luke—the three gospels that share a great deal of common material—it is precisely at this point in Jesus’ ministry that the focus shifts from Jesus primarily teaching large crowds to Jesus primarily teaching his immediate disciples, which included not only the twelve but also the larger community of those who followed him.

And like Elijah’s disciple Elisha, those that followed Jesus were greatly distressed by his going to Jerusalem.  They knew what might happen there, and because they loved him deeply, they were protective, reactive, and defensive.  Which is why Luke inserts this next account.

And he sent messengers on ahead, who went into a Samaritan village to get things ready for him; but the people there did not welcome him, because he was heading for Jerusalem.

The shortest route from Galilee to Jerusalem was through the non-Jewish region of Samaria, a route that super-orthodox Jews avoided at all costs.  The Jews had treated the Samaritans contemptuously for centuries, and so the Samaritans did likewise to Jews.  The historian Josephus even tells us that Samaritans even occasionally attacked pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem, depending on the village and how bad relations were.  But it was a long journey and the need for food and water made contact necessary.  Listen now to how Jesus disciples reacted:

When the disciples James and John saw this, they asked, “Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?”  But Jesus turned and rebuked them, and they went to another village.

Elsewhere in the gospels the brothers James and John were called “sons of thunder,” apparently indicating their hot-tempered personalities.  It may have been that these two men saw the parallel with Elijah’s last day on earth, and perhaps they remembered how Elijah had called fire down from heaven at Mt. Carmel.  Surely, Jesus can top even that!  Little did they understand that the Spirit at work in Jesus—the same Spirit that would soon be at work in them—was preparing them for a different work.  With the coming of Christ had come a time of salvation, not destruction.  The Spirit at work in us is the Spirit of truth—not brute force.

But as he continues on this road to Jerusalem, the parallel to the Elijah story becomes even more obious in another respect.  Luke may have been thinking of how three times Elijah tries to discourage Elisha from following him—testing him to see what sort of resolve he had.  And so Luke recounts three people who claim to be willing to follow Jesus, and yet who receive only discouragement from the Lord, beginning with verse 57:

As they were walking along the road, a man said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.”  Jesus replied, “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.”

To follow Jesus—to make oneself truly open to whatever and wherever he may call—is to let go of control over our own lives and essentially accept whatever hardship that entails.  I read this verse and then reflect on how so much American Christianity is preoccupied with making things seeker-friendly, user-friendly, without challenge or difficulty.  It makes me wonder how people ever manage to actually find Christ at all.

With the next person, we have Jesus initiating the call himself, in verse 59:

He said to another man, “Follow me.”  But the man replied, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.”  Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.”

Now at first this sounds rather harsh, but notice that the man Jesus is talking to is already among those who are walking along with Jesus, so he has been demonstrating at least an interest in being a disciple.  If his father had literally died, the man wouldn’t be there, he would be at the funeral.  The man is actually saying, “You bet, Jesus.  I’m ready to follow you, but you know my parents are still alive, and they’re not really excited about my religious interests.  Can you wait until they die?”

In his reply, Jesus is not telling the man to disregard his parents or to fail in his obligations to care and provide for them.  In fact, Jesus called the Pharisees hypocrites for allowing people to neglect their parents in the name of religion.  What he is telling the man is that his parents are not the center of his life—God is.  God has called him to preach the gospel, and nothing should stand in the way of his obedient response.

Finally, when Jesus calls a third man, this is the response he receives:

Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say good-by to my family.”  Jesus replied, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”

Now Jesus’ response here seems downright unfair, since even Elijah didn’t stop Elisha from at least saying good-by to his family.  But remember, with Elisha there were still a number of years left in Elijah’s ministry—plenty of time for him to work with the young Elisha.  Jesus, however, is already on his way to Jerusalem.  He is going there to suffer and die on behalf of us all.  The time has run out for patient preparation.  Like Elijah during his last day on earth, it is time to cut to the heart of things.  Jesus wasn’t forbidding the man from saying good-by as much as warning him about being double-minded or forever compromising his divine call.

You see, our lives are choked with a multitude of innocent things that seem to endlessly distract us from a singular and serious devotion to God.  And in our honest moments, most of us would have to admit that we prefer it that way.  Following God can be scary, for who knows where he will lead us?  And who wants to live out there with the foxes?

But we’ve also watched others—those who weren’t scared off, who tenaciously said to Jesus, “As the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you”—they are the ones who seem so filled with God’s Spirit, who have a double portion of that Spirit that transforms our pale and insipid existence into chariots of fire.

St. Paul said it best when he wrote:

…we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died.  And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them...

For most of us, obedience to the call of Christ won’t result in our becoming wandering prophets or creating revivals or calling fire down from heaven.  But Christ’s call does mean living every moment of every day in the presence of God—always being open to God, listening and responding whenever he nudges us to speak a word, lend a hand, say a prayer.  And yes, in some cases, it could mean leaving a comfortable existence for a difficult one.  But for all of us, it means not making career or family the center, but making the will of Christ our center.  It means always praying as our Lord did in Gethsemane, “Not my will but your will, Father, be done.”

May the Lord grant all of us a double portion of his Spirit today. 

Amen

Mike Fargo
Valley Covenant Church