Elisha Transformed
“When Everything Falls to Pieces”
2 Kings -12, 6-14
Rev. Dr. Chris Keating
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Focus: Through the changes of life, we are invited to trust in the power of God, opening ourselves to the grace of God as God leads us into a new future.
God of mercy, you promised never to break your covenant with us. Amid all the changing words of our generation, speak your eternal Word that does not change. Then may we respond to your gracious promises with faithful and obedient lives; through our Lord Jesus Christ.
Change was all around me. The tassel from my graduation cap had been packed away, and I was ready to begin my first “real” job after college. In a few weeks, I would be packing up my stuff and moving to New Jersey from California to start seminary.
Everything was wonderful, life was good, and I was even getting a paycheck.
There was only one problem: a car. You know that whenever a young man has a problem it has to do with either a car or a girl, and in my case it was a car. My parents had been gracious enough to give me my father’s 1980 Ford Escort to take to take to seminary. (Trivia buffs ought to know that this is the same car driven by Pope John Paul II, except mine was five year’s newer.) This was wonderful except for one thing: I had never, ever driven a car with a stick shift. Never mind that I had graduated from college with honors. Never mind that I had been accepted at Princeton Seminary. This was a challenge, and while it was hardly the same as crossing the River Jordan, the fact remained that I wasn’t going to get to New Jersey if I couldn’t get my parent’s car out of the driveway. You would think that it wouldn’t be a hard task. You would think.
I must confess that learning to drive that little four cylinder, four speed car was not the hardest challenge of my life, but it certainly wasn’t fun. One day as I was stopped up hill praying that I would be able to get it into first gear without hitting the person behind me, I remember thinking, “If I can’t learn drive this car, how am I ever going to pass Greek? But that’s another story. The fact is I can still drive stick shift cars!
At the time, I guess the experience was somehow a metaphor for all the change and transition I was experiencing. It was a summer of letting go of the past, and moving toward an uncertain future, and I was filled with all sorts of young adult frustration and anxiety. It seemed to me that all the pieces of my life were being pulled apart.
In time, I’d learn that as bad as that moment seemed, there are seasons of peoples lives when the pieces really do fall apart…when life loses all sense of meaning, and purpose. In time, I’d learn that many, many people experience the raw edge of life cutting into their souls. I’d stand with grieving families, watching loved ones slip away. I’d listen to stories of families torn apart by job losses and personal crises, addictions, and health issues. Facing the banks of their own Jordan Rivers, the people I’d meet would put their own words to Elisha’s question: “Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?”
What I didn’t know that summer evening is that these threshold moments keep appearing throughout our lives. Children grow up, jobs end, relationships change, we face health crises in our lives or the lives of those close to us. We scramble to keep pace with these transitions, which many times feel as though our lives have indeed fallen to pieces. We wonder, “Where is God now?”
“Transition,” writes theologian Richard Nelson, “creates a sickening fear that without any changeless realities life has no purpose, no goal, no meaning. Both positive and negative change create stress.”[1] The question for us then becomes how we cling to God as the winds of the Spirit blow around us. How do we open ourselves to God’s leading, how do we say, “Here I am, Lord?”
One answer, I believe, is to remember that the author of change is never far removed from us. Packed into this miracle-laden account of Elijah’s transition from earth to heaven is a reminder of how God speaks to us in the whirlwinds of change. Elijah has come to that place and time when he will be taken by God into heaven. Elisha steadfastly refuses to leave Elijah alone, and is there at the moment Elijah ascends into heaven in the whirlwind. Yet it does not help Elisha to know that God has called to Elijah. He is overcome by grief and pain. His life is in pieces, symbolized by the tearing of his clothing.
Yet, there is grace. Even in the midst of change. Even in the face of abandonment, there is grace. So Elisha spies Elijah’s mantle. So Jesus, as he makes his way to Jerusalem, refrains from letting his disciples become demonic henchmen in spite of being rejected by the Samaritan village. Jesus, it seems, is no Tony Soprano.
Transitions are not easy, yet we are both surprised by grace and sustained by it. In the words of the prayer we prayed earlier, we listen for that one eternal word which does not change amid the ever-changing words of our generation.
Elisha stares at the broken pieces of his life, and bends down to pick up Elijah’s cloak. He let the cloth touch his fingers. Holding it up to his face, he remembered how Elijah had thrown it at him when he had seen him the first time. He remembered how Elijah had told him he had used the mantle to cover his face when God passed by on Mt. Horeb. He remembered. He smelled it. He received it as a sign of grace. A legacy, passed from prophet to prophet…a reminder that God is in this place. God has been there, God is there, and God shall be there in the times to come.
I have been impressed by the work our youth have been doing in Benton Park at Joint Neighborhood Ministries. They have been demonstrating what one pastor calls “humble leadership[2]” among the poor and homeless. Each week, they give up a chance to sleep in, leaving behind neighborhoods where the per capita income is more than twice what it is in the city. They come and they offer themselves, they are living reminders that God is in that place, that God will continue to provide a way for those whose lives are in piece, even when pantries are bare. Likewise, I believe the poor have become gifts of grace to our youth and adults, too…they remind us that it is only by God’s grace that we are sustained in life.
Grace, writes Denise Roy, is there when you “haven’t got a clue,” when you feel as though you’re the worst person in the world. In a book of meditations for mothers, Denice writes that grace “applies the gentle push on your back that keeps you going. Grace is sometimes your only companion in the middle of the night when you’re teetering on the edge of sleep deprivation and exhaustion, and the baby needs more. It’s what keeps you from going crazy when you awake at one in the morning waiting and worrying in every passing minute for your teenager to get home.”[3]
Grace reminds you to move forward, Elisha. Go ahead, pick it up that mantle. Strike the water. Pick it up and remember how Elijah had used it to part the water from side to side. Pick up the mantle, Elisha; pick it up and cross over the threshold of your crisis, assured that God will go with you.
At the very place where he thought God had abandoned, Elisha discovers he is not alone. With his cheeks stained by tears of grief, Elisha is reminded that the God of Israel is the God who makes a way out of no way. In that moment, when everything has fallen to pieces, he knows God has called to him again, inviting him to trust in that grace. And, as the song goes, grace shall lead us home.
And so it is for us are we as we gather around Christ’s table now. Amen.
[1] Richard Nelson, 1 & 2 Kings, (John Knox Press).
[2] Cf Graham Standish, “Humble Leadership,” Alban Weekly (26 March, 2007)
[3] Denise Roy, Momfulness (2007, Jossey-Bass).
2 Kings -12, 6-14
Rev. Dr. Chris Keating
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Focus: Through the changes of life, we are invited to trust in the power of God, opening ourselves to the grace of God as God leads us into a new future.
God of mercy, you promised never to break your covenant with us. Amid all the changing words of our generation, speak your eternal Word that does not change. Then may we respond to your gracious promises with faithful and obedient lives; through our Lord Jesus Christ.
Change was all around me. The tassel from my graduation cap had been packed away, and I was ready to begin my first “real” job after college. In a few weeks, I would be packing up my stuff and moving to New Jersey from California to start seminary.
Everything was wonderful, life was good, and I was even getting a paycheck.
There was only one problem: a car. You know that whenever a young man has a problem it has to do with either a car or a girl, and in my case it was a car. My parents had been gracious enough to give me my father’s 1980 Ford Escort to take to take to seminary. (Trivia buffs ought to know that this is the same car driven by Pope John Paul II, except mine was five year’s newer.) This was wonderful except for one thing: I had never, ever driven a car with a stick shift. Never mind that I had graduated from college with honors. Never mind that I had been accepted at Princeton Seminary. This was a challenge, and while it was hardly the same as crossing the River Jordan, the fact remained that I wasn’t going to get to New Jersey if I couldn’t get my parent’s car out of the driveway. You would think that it wouldn’t be a hard task. You would think.
I must confess that learning to drive that little four cylinder, four speed car was not the hardest challenge of my life, but it certainly wasn’t fun. One day as I was stopped up hill praying that I would be able to get it into first gear without hitting the person behind me, I remember thinking, “If I can’t learn drive this car, how am I ever going to pass Greek? But that’s another story. The fact is I can still drive stick shift cars!
At the time, I guess the experience was somehow a metaphor for all the change and transition I was experiencing. It was a summer of letting go of the past, and moving toward an uncertain future, and I was filled with all sorts of young adult frustration and anxiety. It seemed to me that all the pieces of my life were being pulled apart.
In time, I’d learn that as bad as that moment seemed, there are seasons of peoples lives when the pieces really do fall apart…when life loses all sense of meaning, and purpose. In time, I’d learn that many, many people experience the raw edge of life cutting into their souls. I’d stand with grieving families, watching loved ones slip away. I’d listen to stories of families torn apart by job losses and personal crises, addictions, and health issues. Facing the banks of their own Jordan Rivers, the people I’d meet would put their own words to Elisha’s question: “Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?”
What I didn’t know that summer evening is that these threshold moments keep appearing throughout our lives. Children grow up, jobs end, relationships change, we face health crises in our lives or the lives of those close to us. We scramble to keep pace with these transitions, which many times feel as though our lives have indeed fallen to pieces. We wonder, “Where is God now?”
“Transition,” writes theologian Richard Nelson, “creates a sickening fear that without any changeless realities life has no purpose, no goal, no meaning. Both positive and negative change create stress.”[1] The question for us then becomes how we cling to God as the winds of the Spirit blow around us. How do we open ourselves to God’s leading, how do we say, “Here I am, Lord?”
One answer, I believe, is to remember that the author of change is never far removed from us. Packed into this miracle-laden account of Elijah’s transition from earth to heaven is a reminder of how God speaks to us in the whirlwinds of change. Elijah has come to that place and time when he will be taken by God into heaven. Elisha steadfastly refuses to leave Elijah alone, and is there at the moment Elijah ascends into heaven in the whirlwind. Yet it does not help Elisha to know that God has called to Elijah. He is overcome by grief and pain. His life is in pieces, symbolized by the tearing of his clothing.
Yet, there is grace. Even in the midst of change. Even in the face of abandonment, there is grace. So Elisha spies Elijah’s mantle. So Jesus, as he makes his way to Jerusalem, refrains from letting his disciples become demonic henchmen in spite of being rejected by the Samaritan village. Jesus, it seems, is no Tony Soprano.
Transitions are not easy, yet we are both surprised by grace and sustained by it. In the words of the prayer we prayed earlier, we listen for that one eternal word which does not change amid the ever-changing words of our generation.
Elisha stares at the broken pieces of his life, and bends down to pick up Elijah’s cloak. He let the cloth touch his fingers. Holding it up to his face, he remembered how Elijah had thrown it at him when he had seen him the first time. He remembered how Elijah had told him he had used the mantle to cover his face when God passed by on Mt. Horeb. He remembered. He smelled it. He received it as a sign of grace. A legacy, passed from prophet to prophet…a reminder that God is in this place. God has been there, God is there, and God shall be there in the times to come.
I have been impressed by the work our youth have been doing in Benton Park at Joint Neighborhood Ministries. They have been demonstrating what one pastor calls “humble leadership[2]” among the poor and homeless. Each week, they give up a chance to sleep in, leaving behind neighborhoods where the per capita income is more than twice what it is in the city. They come and they offer themselves, they are living reminders that God is in that place, that God will continue to provide a way for those whose lives are in piece, even when pantries are bare. Likewise, I believe the poor have become gifts of grace to our youth and adults, too…they remind us that it is only by God’s grace that we are sustained in life.
Grace, writes Denise Roy, is there when you “haven’t got a clue,” when you feel as though you’re the worst person in the world. In a book of meditations for mothers, Denice writes that grace “applies the gentle push on your back that keeps you going. Grace is sometimes your only companion in the middle of the night when you’re teetering on the edge of sleep deprivation and exhaustion, and the baby needs more. It’s what keeps you from going crazy when you awake at one in the morning waiting and worrying in every passing minute for your teenager to get home.”[3]
Grace reminds you to move forward, Elisha. Go ahead, pick it up that mantle. Strike the water. Pick it up and remember how Elijah had used it to part the water from side to side. Pick up the mantle, Elisha; pick it up and cross over the threshold of your crisis, assured that God will go with you.
At the very place where he thought God had abandoned, Elisha discovers he is not alone. With his cheeks stained by tears of grief, Elisha is reminded that the God of Israel is the God who makes a way out of no way. In that moment, when everything has fallen to pieces, he knows God has called to him again, inviting him to trust in that grace. And, as the song goes, grace shall lead us home.
And so it is for us are we as we gather around Christ’s table now. Amen.
[1] Richard Nelson, 1 & 2 Kings, (John Knox Press).
[2] Cf Graham Standish, “Humble Leadership,” Alban Weekly (26 March, 2007)
[3] Denise Roy, Momfulness (2007, Jossey-Bass).
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