A sermon preached by Jack Cabaness
First Presbyterian Church of Katonah, New York
November 15, 2015
This sermon was originally written as a companion piece to chapter 12 in Brian McLaren’s book We Make the Road by Walking, and it was rewritten in response to the past week’s devastating terrorist attacks in Paris, Beirut, and Baghdad.
Text: 2 Kings 2:1-15
Our ancestors in the faith, the ancient Israelites, told and retold the central stories of their faith. They told the story of God using Moses to deliver the people out of slavery. And the people kept telling these stories. And they needed to keep telling these stories, because in the Hebrew Bible, Pharaoh does not meet his end in the book of Exodus, when the waters of the Red Sea close over his chariot.
In fact, Pharaoh lives on, as he later "haunts Israel in the form of its own kings who, intoxicated and blinded by political power, forget that the God under whose authority they serve not only despises tyrants, but also is inclined to intervene against them if they lead the people to apostasy or oppress the most vulnerable among them.” (Trevor Eppehimer, “Theological Perspective: 2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14,” Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol. 3, Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 2010, p. 174).
The story of God intervening on behalf of the most vulnerable and those who are being oppressed gets retold again and again. Just as Moses was God’s spokesperson on behalf of those who were being oppressed, so Elijah also becomes God’s spokesperson in the face of tyranny.
This message is captured in the words of the African American spiritual, Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, which we will sing later in the service. It’s based on the story of Elijah’s fiery chariot ride into heaven. Written by Wallis Willis around 1862, the spiritual begins,
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home.
I looked over Jordan, and what did I see,
Coming for to carry me home?
First Presbyterian Church of Katonah, New York
November 15, 2015
This sermon was originally written as a companion piece to chapter 12 in Brian McLaren’s book We Make the Road by Walking, and it was rewritten in response to the past week’s devastating terrorist attacks in Paris, Beirut, and Baghdad.
Text: 2 Kings 2:1-15
Our ancestors in the faith, the ancient Israelites, told and retold the central stories of their faith. They told the story of God using Moses to deliver the people out of slavery. And the people kept telling these stories. And they needed to keep telling these stories, because in the Hebrew Bible, Pharaoh does not meet his end in the book of Exodus, when the waters of the Red Sea close over his chariot.
In fact, Pharaoh lives on, as he later "haunts Israel in the form of its own kings who, intoxicated and blinded by political power, forget that the God under whose authority they serve not only despises tyrants, but also is inclined to intervene against them if they lead the people to apostasy or oppress the most vulnerable among them.” (Trevor Eppehimer, “Theological Perspective: 2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14,” Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol. 3, Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 2010, p. 174).
The story of God intervening on behalf of the most vulnerable and those who are being oppressed gets retold again and again. Just as Moses was God’s spokesperson on behalf of those who were being oppressed, so Elijah also becomes God’s spokesperson in the face of tyranny.
This message is captured in the words of the African American spiritual, Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, which we will sing later in the service. It’s based on the story of Elijah’s fiery chariot ride into heaven. Written by Wallis Willis around 1862, the spiritual begins,
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home.
I looked over Jordan, and what did I see,
Coming for to carry me home?
A band of angels coming after me,
Coming for to carry me home.”
The chariot likely both represents the hope of deliverance as well as a challenge to the institution of slavery. And the reference to the Jordan River also evokes an association with the Ohio River, because the Ohio River divided the Slave states from the Free States, and thus, freedom awaited, on the other side of the Ohio, on that far side of Jordan. (see comments by Haywood Barringer Spangler, “Homiletical Perspective: 2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14” in Feasting on the Word, p. 175).
When Elijah crossed the Jordan, he returned to the vicinity of Mount Nebo, where Moses had surveyed the Promised Land right before he died. And just as Moses once chose Joshua as his successor, so Elijah had come upon Elisha one day as Elisha was plowing the fields, and Elijah threw his mantle, or his cloak, upon Elisha, and Elisha said let me kiss my father and mother goodbye, and then I will follow you, and from that point on, Elisha followed Elijah.
And when it was time for Elijah to depart, Elisha asked for a double share of Elijah’s spirit. Now, Elisha was not asking to become twice the prophet that Elijah was. In this case, a double share means twice what anyone else would get, or a 2/3rds share, which is what the oldest son would inherit. In other words, Elisha was asking to be recognized as Elijah’s true heir.
Now, suspense enters the story, because we do not know until the very end whether or not Elisha will receive that double share of Elijah’s spirit. Elisha himself does not know, until he parts the Jordan with Elijah’s mantle. We can almost hear Elisha ask himself, “Will I see Elijah ascend? Will I be able to part the Jordan as Elijah did? Will the Lord grant me the spirit? The suspense Elisha must feel, parallels the suspense we feel in moments of transition and vulnerability. Will the cancer treatment work? Will I be downsized out of a job? Will my child make it through high school? (Spangler, p. 177).
And this story evokes our unease and uncertainty about the state of our world. After Friday night’s devastating terrorist attacks in Paris, which had been preceded by suicide bombings in Beirut and Baghdad, what happens now? All the events of these past few days have brought back memories of 9/11 and all those feelings of fear and uncertainty.
We do not know what the future holds.
Elisha does a couple of things in the face of his own uncertainty and fear. First of all, he persists in accompanying Elijah. Three times Elijah pleads with his disciple to abandon him, and three times Elisha refuses. Elisha becomes a model of persistence, of staying true to what he believed his calling to be, even in the face of frightening and uncertain times.
Coming for to carry me home.”
The chariot likely both represents the hope of deliverance as well as a challenge to the institution of slavery. And the reference to the Jordan River also evokes an association with the Ohio River, because the Ohio River divided the Slave states from the Free States, and thus, freedom awaited, on the other side of the Ohio, on that far side of Jordan. (see comments by Haywood Barringer Spangler, “Homiletical Perspective: 2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14” in Feasting on the Word, p. 175).
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| The Prophet Elijah in the cave (below) and on a chariot of fire. A fresco from Rila Monastery, Bulgaria, medieval Orthodox tradition, renovated 20th century. |
When Elijah crossed the Jordan, he returned to the vicinity of Mount Nebo, where Moses had surveyed the Promised Land right before he died. And just as Moses once chose Joshua as his successor, so Elijah had come upon Elisha one day as Elisha was plowing the fields, and Elijah threw his mantle, or his cloak, upon Elisha, and Elisha said let me kiss my father and mother goodbye, and then I will follow you, and from that point on, Elisha followed Elijah.
And when it was time for Elijah to depart, Elisha asked for a double share of Elijah’s spirit. Now, Elisha was not asking to become twice the prophet that Elijah was. In this case, a double share means twice what anyone else would get, or a 2/3rds share, which is what the oldest son would inherit. In other words, Elisha was asking to be recognized as Elijah’s true heir.
Now, suspense enters the story, because we do not know until the very end whether or not Elisha will receive that double share of Elijah’s spirit. Elisha himself does not know, until he parts the Jordan with Elijah’s mantle. We can almost hear Elisha ask himself, “Will I see Elijah ascend? Will I be able to part the Jordan as Elijah did? Will the Lord grant me the spirit? The suspense Elisha must feel, parallels the suspense we feel in moments of transition and vulnerability. Will the cancer treatment work? Will I be downsized out of a job? Will my child make it through high school? (Spangler, p. 177).
And this story evokes our unease and uncertainty about the state of our world. After Friday night’s devastating terrorist attacks in Paris, which had been preceded by suicide bombings in Beirut and Baghdad, what happens now? All the events of these past few days have brought back memories of 9/11 and all those feelings of fear and uncertainty.
We do not know what the future holds.
Elisha does a couple of things in the face of his own uncertainty and fear. First of all, he persists in accompanying Elijah. Three times Elijah pleads with his disciple to abandon him, and three times Elisha refuses. Elisha becomes a model of persistence, of staying true to what he believed his calling to be, even in the face of frightening and uncertain times.
And notice what else Elisha does. When the company of prophets taunts Elisha about Elijah’s pending departure, Elisha tells them to be quiet. Thus, Elisha calls for silence or stillness rather than premature conclusions.
With all the talk after Friday night’s attacks in Paris, we need the sanity of an Elisha to warn us against premature conclusions about the dangers of giving shelter to refugees. We need someone to warn us not to give in to our preconceived notions.
We need a model of faithfulness. Elisha has no guarantee that God will give him the same gifts that Elijah received. But Elisha pursues his call, even without that guarantee. Elisha follows what he understands to be God’s will, although he does not yet know clearly what God’s will for him is.
Elisha must discern God’s call by participating in events. He must watch the chariot and the whirlwind. He must pick up the mantle. He must attempt to part the Jordan. Elisha confirms his call through his actions. Elisha becomes our model for faithfulness. He embraced the suspense and ambiguity that is a part of life, and he asked himself, “What is God calling me to do in this situation?” (Spangler, p. 177).
But almost everything I’ve said up until now is really next week’s sermon, or perhaps even the sermon for the week after next. Because you see, before Elisha can become our model for faithfulness, he is first our model for honest grieving. Before he picked up the mantle, before he started to test his calling, in that moment when Elisha realized that Elijah had been taken out of his sight, he ripped his clothes in half, which was a profound sign of grief.
What would Elisha do on the third day after devastating terrorist attacks in Paris? He would rip his cloak in two and weep.
Before this preacher or any other preacher attempts to give you easy answers, let our response be one of honest grieving and crying out to God with our fears.
The composer Giacomo Puccini wrote a number of famous operas. In 1922 he was suddenly stricken by cancer while working on his last opera, Turandot, which many now consider his best. Puccini said to his students, “If I don’t finish Turandot, I want you to finish it for me.” Shortly afterward he died. Puccini’s students studied the opera carefully and soon completed it.
In 1926 the world premiere of Turandot was performed in Milan with Puccini’s favorite
student, Arturo Toscanini, directing. Everything went beautifully until the opera
reached the point where Puccini had been forced to put down his pen. Tears ran down
Toscanini’s face. He stopped the music, turned to his audience, and cried out, “Thus far
the Master wrote, but he died.”
A vast silence filled the opera house.
Then, Toscanini smiled through his tears and exclaimed, “But his disciples finished his work.” He then turned back around and resumed directing. When Turandot ended, the audience broke into thunderous applause. (as told by Carrie N. Mitchell, “Pastoral Perspective: 2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14” in Feasting on the Word, p. 176).
With Elisha as a model for honest grieving and for faithfulness, we, too, can turn to God with our grief and our fears, and, when the time is right, we can finish our story, as we live out God’s calling upon our lives.
A vast silence filled the opera house.
Then, Toscanini smiled through his tears and exclaimed, “But his disciples finished his work.” He then turned back around and resumed directing. When Turandot ended, the audience broke into thunderous applause. (as told by Carrie N. Mitchell, “Pastoral Perspective: 2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14” in Feasting on the Word, p. 176).
With Elisha as a model for honest grieving and for faithfulness, we, too, can turn to God with our grief and our fears, and, when the time is right, we can finish our story, as we live out God’s calling upon our lives.
All glory and praise be to our God. Amen.
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