"Bring me my chariot of fire"
Knox, 25 September, 2011 © Scott McAndless
2 Kings 2:1-15, Psalm 3, John 14:15-21, 25-27
Elijah is generally considered to be the greatest of all the prophets of Ancient Israel. This is not, however, because of his words. The words of several other prophets were clearly much more memorable and are preserved in books, like the books of Isaiah and Jeremiah for example, that go on and on for chapters. Nor has it much to do with the predictions that he made of the future. I mean, Elijah did predict an extended drought and he also predicted the death of King Ahaziah, but there were many other prophets who made much more stunning predictions than that.
No, the thing that really stands out about Elijah is the force of his personality – here was a man who did not hesitate to stand up to people like King Ahaz and Queen Jezebel – perhaps two of the most powerful political figures of that era. When they did wrong he took them on and when he did, sometimes very powerful things happened. And you definitely did not want to be on the wrong side when Elijah was making a stand for what he knew was right – just ask those prophets of Ba’al who dared to meet him on Mount Carmel!
So great was the force of his personality that Elijah created something new. A community formed around him. This community is called “the sons of the prophets” in Hebrew though, as you noticed, that is translated as “the company of the prophets” in the translation we read this morning. You see, prophets before Elijah had each worked as independent agents. But Elijah had created a movement around himself – a group of people who were willing to put their very lives on the line to realize Elijah’s vision of a kingdom of justice devoted to the service of the Lord. When Elijah started out, he was all alone – he even complained to God about that very fact. But by the time that Elijah was old and it was time for him to depart, the organization had grown so much that there were branches of the company of the prophets in different cities like Bethel and Jericho.
But the problem was, of course, that he was on his way out. And it seems that everybody knew it too. Maybe it was plain to see that, no matter what happened, he wouldn’t live much longer and everyone was expecting something to happen. Sad to say, it kind of reminds me of what we went through with the loss of the leader of Her Majesty’s Loyal Opposition in parliament. When Jack Layton gave his last press conference two months ago and announced that he was taking a leave to seek treatment for cancer, he was so weak and so changed that further bad news seemed inevitable – even if many didn’t want to believe it.
But then, far too soon, he was just gone. And in the wake of that loss, we see people asking all kinds of questions: what will happen to the political opposition in Ottawa? What does this mean for the future of the New Democratic Party? Maybe even what does this mean for the future of any socialist goals in Canada? I mean, whatever you may think about Layton and his party, his death may have some pretty large and far reaching repercussions in Canada’s political landscape.
And people were clearly feeling much the same kind of thing as it became clear to the company of the prophets that the great Elijah was not going to be around to lead them and give them his vision much longer.
As our reading opens this morning, Elijah is setting out on a journey to Bethel. And somehow he knows and his disciple Elisha knows and all the various branches of the company of the prophets know that this is going to be the first stage of his last journey. And Elisha, the disciple, reacts to this in strange ways. First of all, although he is plainly not invited to come along on this journey, he insists on coming anyway.
Now my first reaction on reading that is to assume that Elisha just really loves the old man and just doesn’t want him to go (maybe because he is afraid that the company of the prophets will collapse without him) and is seeking to prevent his departure. This idea seems to be confirmed when, at various points in this journey, local chapters of the company of the prophets come up to Elisha to say, “Do you know that the Lord is going to take your master from you today?” and each time Elisha replies, “Yes, I know, but do not speak of it.” Doesn’t that sound like a classic denial response? Doesn’t it sound like Elisha just doesn’t want to face the reality of what is really going to happen?
But as I read on, I’m not so sure that that is exactly what is going on. Yes, it is true that Elisha puts off the well meaning and perfectly accurate warnings given to him by the sons of the prophets and refuses to hear them speak of it. But is that really denial? Or is it the indication of a greater wisdom? Because the reality is that, despite Elisha’s refusal to talk about it, there is every indication that he knows very well that his master will be taken from him. And yet he insists, again and again, that he will not be separated from him until that happens: “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.”
Finally, apparently, Elijah figures out why it is that Elisha just won’t leave him alone: he wants something. And so Elijah asks, “Tell me, what can I do for you before I am taken from you?” And so it finally comes out – what all of this has all been about. “Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit,” says Elisha. And so we learn that this has all been about spirit.
You see, that’s why Elisha didn’t want to waste time talking with the sons of the prophets about the loss of his master’s body. He knew that something far more important was at stake: the loss of his master’s spirit.
But what exactly is Elijah’s spirit? Elisha speaks of it as something that can be quantified and multiplied. He says that it can be measured out in portions and then doubled. It is certainly something that, in his mind, has a very definite value. But we do not tend to think of spirit in such terms. For us, a spirit is, by definition a very intangible thing – indeed there are many people today who will say that they do not believe in such things as spirits at all.
But I would suggest that spirits are very real and they are quite tangible – particularly real when you are talking about such things as the survival and the general health of a movement such as the company of the prophets. There are vital spirits, for example, in organizations such as Christian congregations.
Take Knox Presbyterian Church, for example. There have been many great souls who have come and gone in the life of this congregation. I have heard a fair bit about some of them over the years – I couldn’t help it because their names just kept coming up from time to time. This congregation has been impacted, for example, by the extraordinary personalities of people like Mary Cleghorn, Marie Faber, Neil and Don Paterson, Jim Ried and Bill Bryon, Jim Grant and Thomas Kay. Those are just a few that come to mind very quickly but I know that there are many others. These are people who had a very big impact on the life of this congregation for good and for ill (though for the good most of all).
But when they departed (through death and other means) something amazing happened – something quite tangible remained. Their spirits remained and continued to affect and shape the life of the congregation. For example, I’ve heard that Neil Paterson, the clerk of session for many years, had very particular ways of running meetings and of giving out important information. When he was no longer in those positions, his influence over how meetings were held did not just disappear. For a while meetings just continued the way that Neil had done them. And then it was decided that some changes were needed and changes were made but they were still reactions to the old ways of doing things. Neil’s ways were not forgotten and, even if our methods of holding meetings have changed, his spirit, I think, is still quite present whenever we meet.
That is just one simple example, of course, and not even necessarily an important one. But, in similar ways, the spirits of many of those great personalities who have influenced this congregation are still present and at work. And when you put all of those spirits together you get the spirit of the congregation itself which is greater than the sum of all of its parts. This becomes a defining spirit of the congregation itself – a whole way that we have collectively of doing and being and acting together as a community. This spirit is what sets this congregation apart – what makes it unique.
It is with a very clear understanding of how this notion of spirit works within an organization that Elisha makes his request of his master for a double portion of his spirit. He knows that they might be able to afford the loss of Elijah the man, but they can’t do without his spirit. It must be passed down.
To this request Elijah replies, “You have asked a difficult thing, yet if you see me when I am taken from you, it will be yours—otherwise not.” Now, in this case, Elijah is about to board a chariot of fire that will carry him bodily up into heaven. It is not the kind of departure from leadership that you see every day. If Elisha manages to see that, he will certainly never forget it. But, in many ways, Elijah’s reply applies to all transitions in spiritual organizations. It is a difficult thing to hold onto to somebody’s spirit when they depart. But if we manage to keep our eyes on them and what they stood for as they go, we can do it.
Sometimes we get this wrong, of course. Sometimes we think that the only way to keep the spirit of those who have gone before alive is to keep everything exactly as they were when they were here. That is one of the many reasons why we are so often so resistant to change in the church. But that is not how we retain such spirits.
When Elisha sees his master depart he cries out “My father! My father! The chariots and horsemen of Israel!” Do those words sound familiar? They should if you were here last week. They are the very words that the king of Israel cries out when he sees this same Elisha, the disciple, when he is sick and about to die. In both cases, the cry means that these prophets were the greatest defence of the nation of Israel – more important than all its cavalry. Elisha became just such a leader because he did indeed inherit Elijah’s spirit.
But that does not mean that Elisha just did exactly what Elijah had done. He did it his own way – using his own talents and skills and passions. When Elijah went up, he let fall his cloak. And Elisha took that cloak and made it his own. In the same way he took all that was distinctive and special about Elijah and made it his own. That is how we do it. That is how we honour the spirits of those who have gone before – not by resisting all change but by taking who they were to heart and finding our own way to live it out in an ever-changing world.
People will come and will go in the life of the church. Those transitions are hard sometime, but we do not need to fear that we will lose the spirits of those people. And so we will keep our eyes on them – not to imitate them or be exactly like them – but so that we can become the best we ourselves can be.