Freedom
Commentary
If we had walked the streets of, say, Richmond, Virginia (or Philadelphia, or any number of other colonial cities) about 223 years ago, we would have seen large posters on buildings -- signs with big, bold red letters proclaiming a single word: "FREE!" Those signs would stir our hearts, for at that time, in those places, that one word signified what was desired above all else. In Richmond, Patrick Henry would have just a few days ago summed up the thoughts of many: "Give me liberty or give me death."
If we were to walk those same streets today, we might see very similar signs, pasted in shop windows still. The same bold red letters: "FREE!" Only, it's not the same, is it? These signs do not stir our hearts. They may not even draw out attention. We are so used to seeing them. Book clubs offer free volumes, but you have to buy several more. Cereal boxes contain free gifts, worth no more than they cost. So, when we see that word, "FREE!" today, we know that it does not stand for something more precious than life itself. It probably signifies something that is worthless or deceptive. How did this word suffer such abuse? When did "no tyranny" (what Patrick Henry wanted) become replaced by "no obligation or cost" (what modern consumers want)?
The second lesson for today provides the classic biblical statement on what it means to be "free." Coincidentally, perhaps, the text comes to us on the Sunday before Independence Day. Every year, on July 4, citizens of the United States of America try to recapture some of the lost passion for liberty, pausing to appreciate anew the significance of freedom. The fact that many Americans regard "freedom" and "independence" as synonyms is revealing of a fundamental problem that works against such a revival. According to the Bible, they are almost antonyms, describing mutually exclusive goals.
This theme, stated magnificently in the lesson from Galatians, surfaces also in the latter part of our Gospel reading for today. But let us begin with the First Lesson which, while not addressing the theme of "freedom" as such, does deal with a point that is not unrelated: the value and necessity of human leaders.
2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14
With the possible exception of Enoch (Genesis 5:24), Elijah is the only character in the Old Testament to be taken directly to heaven without experiencing death. He ascends in a whirlwind (vv. 1, 11) accompanied by angels in fiery chariots, though careless interpreters soon placed him in a chariot himself (see Sirach 48:9) and that is where he has been in religious art and popular imagination ever since. Because Elijah was spared death, prophetic tradition held that he would someday return (Malachi 4:5-6), which is why an empty chair is often reserved for him at Jewish Passover meals.
One motif in the story (somewhat omitted in the verses selected for the reading) concerns Elisha's desire to remain with his master as long as possible (vv. 2, 4) and his great sorrow at their inevitable parting (v. 12). His knowledge and acceptance of this transition as the will of God (vv. 3, 5) may make it bearable, but it does not make it easy. The story is told with deliberate emotion, for biblical writers tended to be less embarrassed by sentiment than modern theologians.
Elisha had already been designated the successor of Elijah when the latter cast his mantle upon him (1 Kings 19:19-21). Now, that succession is confirmed and fulfilled through the bestowal of a double share of Elijah's spirit on his disciple. The latter expression does not mean that Elisha has twice the spirit or power of Elijah, but that he inherits twice as much of Elijah's spirit as anyone else, marking him as the "eldest son" (Deuteronomy 21:17) and leader of the community of followers. The condition Elijah lays down for this transfer (v. 10) confirms that it is not his but God's to grant (compare Mark 10:40). If God grants Elisha to see into the heavenly realm, then the young prophet will know he has received what he desired. This happens, and so Elisha is justified in calling his master "Father" (v. 12).
The main point of the story is that God does not leave people without prophetic and spiritual leadership. When Elijah parts the waters of the Jordan in verse 8, he shows that he is a true successor to Joshua (Joshua 3), who in turn was successor to Moses (Exodus 14:21-22). After Elijah is gone, Elisha too will part these waters as a sign that "the Lord the God of Elijah" is with him also (2 Kings 2:13-14). Devotion to human leaders is commendable, but ultimately God is the one who cares for us, raising up new leaders when the ones we trust are gone.
Galatians 5:1, 13-25
"For freedom, Christ has set you free," Paul writes. It's not a means to an end. Christ did not set us free so that we would be grateful and worship him. He did not set us free so that we would love and serve each other (a frequent misreading of this text). He set us free so that we could be free. Period.
What does "freedom" mean? Thomas Jefferson thought it meant having certain inalienable rights (life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness). Henri IV thought it should include a guaranteed standard of living (a chicken in every pot). Kris Kristofferson said, "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose." Pinocchio thought it meant having no strings; the Isley Brothers said it was "doing your thing." What does it mean to be free?
The word itself is meaningless without a referent. If we say we are "free" we need to specify what we are free from. The abuse of the concept in our contemporary society often views being "free" (or "liberated") in terms of freedom from authority, from responsibility, from obligation. The results of such a notion are predictably tragic. True freedom is more than choice and more than permission. The alcoholic may choose what to drink and when and where to drink it, but does the right of choice make such a person free?
Real freedom takes more than permission. Real freedom takes power. Galatians 5:22-23 lists qualities that most people would like to have characterize their lives. None of these things is forbidden. It's not against the law to love others or to be kind or patient or faithful. Most people would like to be these things. They lack the power to create within themselves or within society what is necessary.
Enter the Holy Spirit. Paul says the Spirit produces things that legislation can not. This is one reason freedom is not independence -- it is dependence on the Spirit of God. More than that, the inevitable mark of free people is the delight they take in serving others. Freedom is not the means and service the end. Rather, service is the substantial content of true freedom. Only the truly liberated person has what it takes to be a servant: the security to reach beyond self, the strength to get out from under the tremendous sway of ego. It is only through service that we ever become free of what Dostoevsky called "the awful burden of ourselves."
The old red Service Book and Hymnal used in Lutheran churches had a marvelous hymn that began, "Make me a captive, Lord, and then I shall be free." For some unimaginable reason, it was dropped from the newer Lutheran Book of Worship, to the theological impoverishment of that volume. It is strange that we think of freedom and service as contradictory. In the Bible, they are clearly related -- compare Paul's words in 1 Corinthians 9:19.
Luke 9:51-62
Jesus' journey to Jerusalem occupies almost ten chapters of Luke's Gospel (from 9:51--19:48). Much teaching material is included in this section and many scholars see the "journey motif" as a literary device appropriate to the type of instruction that is given. The Christian life is itself a journey (early Christians, according to Acts, were called "followers of the Way"). The goal of Jesus' journey, furthermore, is death, resurrection, and ascension. Thus, Luke depicts Jesus teaching his disciples as they travel toward this goal.
The very first lesson seems like an obvious one. James and John (the sons of thunder) are rebuked for wanting to "nuke" a Samaritan village that refused them hospitality. The kingdom of God is not about destroying others. It is not about using power oppressively. Luke wants to nip this "theology of glory" in the bud because in his Gospel and especially in the book of Acts, the tremendous power that God has made available to Christ's followers will become increasingly evident.
Notably, Luke is the only Gospel that tells this story. The other synoptic Gospels also tell stories in which Jesus' disciples fail him, but often these are ones in which they demonstrate a lack of faith. Luke, perhaps because of the stories of Spirit-filled leaders he plans to relate in Acts, focuses on the opposite concern. The type of problems Jesus' disciples have in Luke tends to be those that afflict successful Christians rather than those who are struggling with crises of "little faith." James and John have great faith in the power of God and even in their own ability to exercise it. But -- at least at the beginning of the journey -- it is faith without understanding, a dangerous commodity.
Verses 57-62 relate another lesson to be learned along the way. The three people who speak to Jesus here are apparently not among his twelve disciples. In any case, they remain unidentified, and the conflicts that concern them go unresolved. This is a favorite device (remember the older brother in the prodigal son story?), one that forces every individual to identify with the characters and ask, "What would I do if I were he or she?" Since Luke does not tell us what happens next in any of these cases, we are left to imagine what would happen if we were involved.
All three encounters bring out the rigors of discipleship and the uncompromising commitment that it entails. I like to say that Jesus gave the opposite of "altar calls." Imagine a modern revival in which people were streaming to the front to accept Christ and commit their lives to him. Imagine the evangelist pleading with these potential converts to consider the matter more fully, discouraging them from taking a step they may not be prepared to take. Look at Luke 14:25-33, a little further along on the journey, in which Jesus makes the same points made here, but even more pointedly. He speaks of "counting the cost," a phrase that inspired the title of Bonhoeffer's classic The Cost of Discipleship.
Bonhoeffer suggests the best way to approach such texts theologically and homiletically. He rails against grace that is "cheap," not free. Cheap grace ignores the fact that what God freely offers is life under God's rule. The gift of God is an invitation to discipleship, an invitation that we could never deserve and should be surprised yet overjoyed to receive. Yet the very substance of this gift makes a claim upon our lives, a claim that is absolute.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14
This is one of those texts that remains almost totally incomprehensible to the congregation when it is read on this Sunday of the church year. It therefore requires a good deal of explanation.
The ministry of Elijah is about to end. Even so great a servant of the Lord comes to the end of his labors, as the end comes to all of us. But Elijah, unlike the rest of us, will not experience death. Rather he will be "translated" or taken up immediately into heaven, as was our Lord at the time of his ascension.
Right there, of course, we have entered the realm of mystery, for we earthbound human beings, made of the dust to which we return, know nothing of such a translation. And in fact, mystery permeates this whole account.
First of all, Elijah tries to rid himself of the company of Elisha, as if Elijah were withdrawing into another realm. When Elisha faithfully refuses to leave his teacher, Elijah leads Elisha on what seems a rather senseless journey, from Gilgal to Jericho, which is only a few miles from Gilgal, and then to the Jordan. At each place, they are met by "sons of the prophets," that is, by groups of those prophetic bands that lived together in colonies at the time. They warn Elisha of his teacher's departure, but are forbidden to speak of it further (vv. 4-5).
When Elijah and his pupil reach the Jordan, Elijah strikes the water with his mantle, and the two pass through on dry land, at which point, Elisha asks for a double share of Elijah's spirit. It is not a request to be greater than his master, however. Rather, Elisha is asking for the inheritance that was given a firstborn son by his father (Deuteronomy 21:17). But he will receive such a gift only if he sees Elijah as he is being taken up into heaven. Suddenly there appear a chariot of fire and horses of fire between the two, and Elijah is lifted up into heaven by a whirlwind, whereupon Elisha cries out that strange phrase, "My father, my father! The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!" Elisha is left the mantle of Elijah by which he, too, can strike the waters of the Jordan and pass back through on dry land. Elisha has become Elijah's prophetic successor, possessing his same powerful spirit of prophecy.
What does it all mean? Those fiery chariots and horses in the vision are symbols of the unseen power of God (cf. 2 Kings 6:15-18; 7:6-7). And that power has been concentrated in the prophetic Word that Elijah spoke and that will now be spoken by Elisha. Elijah's word was as powerful as a heavenly army, because it was the Word of the Lord.
Behind all of this story and behind our lives and the world around us, this text testifies to the fact that there is an unseen realm of God that constantly is influencing the course of affairs on our earth. God is at work, shaping events in our lives, sending forth his power to achieve his purposes on earth. And much of that power is concentrated now in the word that God speaks to us.
We do not receive that word from prophets like Elijah or Elisha anymore. Rather, now God's word comes to us through the Scriptures, written and preached. The word was incarnated into Jesus Christ our Lord, and now through the scriptural testimony to him, God's power works in our hearts and lives. It is a power greater than all the powers of earth, and it is symbolized in our text by those fiery chariots and horses. It is a power that transforms lives and heals broken spirits and overcomes the forces of evil and death. And that power works right now in the midst of this gathered congregation.
Is there anything, then, that you and I have to fear? Are we fearful of the future? God is at work. Do we wonder how evil can be overcome? God's victory is sure. Do we fear death and the valley of the shadow? God's incarnate word in Christ triumphed over death. The God of the prophets Elijah and Elisha, and the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, is the God of power, but also supremely the God of love. And he now encircles your life and mine. And so when you are afraid and anxious, despairing and afflicted in this world, remember the unseen world of God, and those fiery chariots and horses, and cry out to your Father in heaven, as Elisha cried, for in him is your sure salvation.
Lutheran Option: 1 Kings 19:15-16, 19-21
When the prophet Elijah was met by God on Mount Horeb and given God's command to get to work (see the preceding Sunday's lesson), one of the commands given to him was to return and anoint Elisha as a prophet in his place (v. 16). Verses 19 to 21 in this text now portray Elijah's obedience to that command.
Elisha is a very rich man in this story. He is plowing his field with twelve yoke of oxen, a team that stands in sharp contrast to the poor man's solitary yoked ox. But God's will has a way of interrupting the lives of all sorts of people, rich and poor, renowned and obscure, talented and unaccomplished. Let no one in any station of life think God has no role for them in his purpose.
God also has a way of interrupting our lives unexpectedly. Elisha is going about his business, when suddenly Elijah throws his prophetic mantle over Elisha's shoulders. There is no word before this that suggests Elisha expected such a thing.
But Elisha knows what the gesture means. He is called to be Elijah's disciple; he is called to leave all and follow, much like those disciples of Jesus were called to leave their fishing nets and to follow after him. It is a call to an unknown future. The disciples of our Lord did not know that Golgotha awaited them. And Elisha does not know on what course Elijah will lead him.
As an obedient son who honors his father and his mother, however, Elisha asks that he be allowed to say good-bye to his parents. And Elijah respects that request. The fact that Jesus denies such a wish, according to our gospel lesson, shows the radical nature of our Lord's call to each one of us. But Elijah lets Elisha go back and say farewell. He gives him an admonition, however, in verse 20. That verse should be read, "Go back again, but remember what I have done to you." Remember now that you have been called to a higher loyalty than that which you owe your family, and indeed, that is what Jesus tells each one of us also. Our commitment to him and his kingdom is not to be hedged by any reservation on our part.
Elisha shows that he has no such reservation. There is no notice in our text that he does in fact go home to say good-bye to his parents. Rather, he simply goes back to his oxen that have been standing in the field, kills them, and distributes their meat to others. In short, he makes an absolute break with his past. He sheds his trappings of wealth and follows after Elijah to serve him in his prophetic calling.
Most of us are not called to leave our homes and families and familiar surroundings to follow after Jesus, although there are Christian missionaries who have done exactly that. But most of us are called to a new way of life in the place wherever God has put us. And there is to be no hedging in that call. We cannot dally occasionally in some sin of the past, which our Lord has shown us to be contrary to his will. We cannot retain old hatreds and grudges, when Christ has called us to a life of forgiveness. We cannot continue to ignore persons whom we thought were insignificant, when we now know as Christians that every person is loved in God's sight. We cannot continue to believe that our desires, our thoughts, our habits are supreme, when we have accepted Jesus Christ as our Lord. And surely, we cannot continue to lead lifestyles of conspicuous consumption when we have turned over everything we are and have to God.
The call to a Christian life is a radical call, as the call to the life of prophecy was a radical call to Elisha. It is a call that gives us an entirely new perspective on everything we have and are. But it is a call that gives back a thousandfold for everything that we leave behind. Above all, it is a call to become what we were meant to be -- servants of our Lord Jesus Christ and witnesses of his gospel. There is no higher calling in this world, nor does any life give our living more meaning. To serve in the name of Jesus Christ -- there is no greater joy.
If we were to walk those same streets today, we might see very similar signs, pasted in shop windows still. The same bold red letters: "FREE!" Only, it's not the same, is it? These signs do not stir our hearts. They may not even draw out attention. We are so used to seeing them. Book clubs offer free volumes, but you have to buy several more. Cereal boxes contain free gifts, worth no more than they cost. So, when we see that word, "FREE!" today, we know that it does not stand for something more precious than life itself. It probably signifies something that is worthless or deceptive. How did this word suffer such abuse? When did "no tyranny" (what Patrick Henry wanted) become replaced by "no obligation or cost" (what modern consumers want)?
The second lesson for today provides the classic biblical statement on what it means to be "free." Coincidentally, perhaps, the text comes to us on the Sunday before Independence Day. Every year, on July 4, citizens of the United States of America try to recapture some of the lost passion for liberty, pausing to appreciate anew the significance of freedom. The fact that many Americans regard "freedom" and "independence" as synonyms is revealing of a fundamental problem that works against such a revival. According to the Bible, they are almost antonyms, describing mutually exclusive goals.
This theme, stated magnificently in the lesson from Galatians, surfaces also in the latter part of our Gospel reading for today. But let us begin with the First Lesson which, while not addressing the theme of "freedom" as such, does deal with a point that is not unrelated: the value and necessity of human leaders.
2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14
With the possible exception of Enoch (Genesis 5:24), Elijah is the only character in the Old Testament to be taken directly to heaven without experiencing death. He ascends in a whirlwind (vv. 1, 11) accompanied by angels in fiery chariots, though careless interpreters soon placed him in a chariot himself (see Sirach 48:9) and that is where he has been in religious art and popular imagination ever since. Because Elijah was spared death, prophetic tradition held that he would someday return (Malachi 4:5-6), which is why an empty chair is often reserved for him at Jewish Passover meals.
One motif in the story (somewhat omitted in the verses selected for the reading) concerns Elisha's desire to remain with his master as long as possible (vv. 2, 4) and his great sorrow at their inevitable parting (v. 12). His knowledge and acceptance of this transition as the will of God (vv. 3, 5) may make it bearable, but it does not make it easy. The story is told with deliberate emotion, for biblical writers tended to be less embarrassed by sentiment than modern theologians.
Elisha had already been designated the successor of Elijah when the latter cast his mantle upon him (1 Kings 19:19-21). Now, that succession is confirmed and fulfilled through the bestowal of a double share of Elijah's spirit on his disciple. The latter expression does not mean that Elisha has twice the spirit or power of Elijah, but that he inherits twice as much of Elijah's spirit as anyone else, marking him as the "eldest son" (Deuteronomy 21:17) and leader of the community of followers. The condition Elijah lays down for this transfer (v. 10) confirms that it is not his but God's to grant (compare Mark 10:40). If God grants Elisha to see into the heavenly realm, then the young prophet will know he has received what he desired. This happens, and so Elisha is justified in calling his master "Father" (v. 12).
The main point of the story is that God does not leave people without prophetic and spiritual leadership. When Elijah parts the waters of the Jordan in verse 8, he shows that he is a true successor to Joshua (Joshua 3), who in turn was successor to Moses (Exodus 14:21-22). After Elijah is gone, Elisha too will part these waters as a sign that "the Lord the God of Elijah" is with him also (2 Kings 2:13-14). Devotion to human leaders is commendable, but ultimately God is the one who cares for us, raising up new leaders when the ones we trust are gone.
Galatians 5:1, 13-25
"For freedom, Christ has set you free," Paul writes. It's not a means to an end. Christ did not set us free so that we would be grateful and worship him. He did not set us free so that we would love and serve each other (a frequent misreading of this text). He set us free so that we could be free. Period.
What does "freedom" mean? Thomas Jefferson thought it meant having certain inalienable rights (life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness). Henri IV thought it should include a guaranteed standard of living (a chicken in every pot). Kris Kristofferson said, "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose." Pinocchio thought it meant having no strings; the Isley Brothers said it was "doing your thing." What does it mean to be free?
The word itself is meaningless without a referent. If we say we are "free" we need to specify what we are free from. The abuse of the concept in our contemporary society often views being "free" (or "liberated") in terms of freedom from authority, from responsibility, from obligation. The results of such a notion are predictably tragic. True freedom is more than choice and more than permission. The alcoholic may choose what to drink and when and where to drink it, but does the right of choice make such a person free?
Real freedom takes more than permission. Real freedom takes power. Galatians 5:22-23 lists qualities that most people would like to have characterize their lives. None of these things is forbidden. It's not against the law to love others or to be kind or patient or faithful. Most people would like to be these things. They lack the power to create within themselves or within society what is necessary.
Enter the Holy Spirit. Paul says the Spirit produces things that legislation can not. This is one reason freedom is not independence -- it is dependence on the Spirit of God. More than that, the inevitable mark of free people is the delight they take in serving others. Freedom is not the means and service the end. Rather, service is the substantial content of true freedom. Only the truly liberated person has what it takes to be a servant: the security to reach beyond self, the strength to get out from under the tremendous sway of ego. It is only through service that we ever become free of what Dostoevsky called "the awful burden of ourselves."
The old red Service Book and Hymnal used in Lutheran churches had a marvelous hymn that began, "Make me a captive, Lord, and then I shall be free." For some unimaginable reason, it was dropped from the newer Lutheran Book of Worship, to the theological impoverishment of that volume. It is strange that we think of freedom and service as contradictory. In the Bible, they are clearly related -- compare Paul's words in 1 Corinthians 9:19.
Luke 9:51-62
Jesus' journey to Jerusalem occupies almost ten chapters of Luke's Gospel (from 9:51--19:48). Much teaching material is included in this section and many scholars see the "journey motif" as a literary device appropriate to the type of instruction that is given. The Christian life is itself a journey (early Christians, according to Acts, were called "followers of the Way"). The goal of Jesus' journey, furthermore, is death, resurrection, and ascension. Thus, Luke depicts Jesus teaching his disciples as they travel toward this goal.
The very first lesson seems like an obvious one. James and John (the sons of thunder) are rebuked for wanting to "nuke" a Samaritan village that refused them hospitality. The kingdom of God is not about destroying others. It is not about using power oppressively. Luke wants to nip this "theology of glory" in the bud because in his Gospel and especially in the book of Acts, the tremendous power that God has made available to Christ's followers will become increasingly evident.
Notably, Luke is the only Gospel that tells this story. The other synoptic Gospels also tell stories in which Jesus' disciples fail him, but often these are ones in which they demonstrate a lack of faith. Luke, perhaps because of the stories of Spirit-filled leaders he plans to relate in Acts, focuses on the opposite concern. The type of problems Jesus' disciples have in Luke tends to be those that afflict successful Christians rather than those who are struggling with crises of "little faith." James and John have great faith in the power of God and even in their own ability to exercise it. But -- at least at the beginning of the journey -- it is faith without understanding, a dangerous commodity.
Verses 57-62 relate another lesson to be learned along the way. The three people who speak to Jesus here are apparently not among his twelve disciples. In any case, they remain unidentified, and the conflicts that concern them go unresolved. This is a favorite device (remember the older brother in the prodigal son story?), one that forces every individual to identify with the characters and ask, "What would I do if I were he or she?" Since Luke does not tell us what happens next in any of these cases, we are left to imagine what would happen if we were involved.
All three encounters bring out the rigors of discipleship and the uncompromising commitment that it entails. I like to say that Jesus gave the opposite of "altar calls." Imagine a modern revival in which people were streaming to the front to accept Christ and commit their lives to him. Imagine the evangelist pleading with these potential converts to consider the matter more fully, discouraging them from taking a step they may not be prepared to take. Look at Luke 14:25-33, a little further along on the journey, in which Jesus makes the same points made here, but even more pointedly. He speaks of "counting the cost," a phrase that inspired the title of Bonhoeffer's classic The Cost of Discipleship.
Bonhoeffer suggests the best way to approach such texts theologically and homiletically. He rails against grace that is "cheap," not free. Cheap grace ignores the fact that what God freely offers is life under God's rule. The gift of God is an invitation to discipleship, an invitation that we could never deserve and should be surprised yet overjoyed to receive. Yet the very substance of this gift makes a claim upon our lives, a claim that is absolute.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14
This is one of those texts that remains almost totally incomprehensible to the congregation when it is read on this Sunday of the church year. It therefore requires a good deal of explanation.
The ministry of Elijah is about to end. Even so great a servant of the Lord comes to the end of his labors, as the end comes to all of us. But Elijah, unlike the rest of us, will not experience death. Rather he will be "translated" or taken up immediately into heaven, as was our Lord at the time of his ascension.
Right there, of course, we have entered the realm of mystery, for we earthbound human beings, made of the dust to which we return, know nothing of such a translation. And in fact, mystery permeates this whole account.
First of all, Elijah tries to rid himself of the company of Elisha, as if Elijah were withdrawing into another realm. When Elisha faithfully refuses to leave his teacher, Elijah leads Elisha on what seems a rather senseless journey, from Gilgal to Jericho, which is only a few miles from Gilgal, and then to the Jordan. At each place, they are met by "sons of the prophets," that is, by groups of those prophetic bands that lived together in colonies at the time. They warn Elisha of his teacher's departure, but are forbidden to speak of it further (vv. 4-5).
When Elijah and his pupil reach the Jordan, Elijah strikes the water with his mantle, and the two pass through on dry land, at which point, Elisha asks for a double share of Elijah's spirit. It is not a request to be greater than his master, however. Rather, Elisha is asking for the inheritance that was given a firstborn son by his father (Deuteronomy 21:17). But he will receive such a gift only if he sees Elijah as he is being taken up into heaven. Suddenly there appear a chariot of fire and horses of fire between the two, and Elijah is lifted up into heaven by a whirlwind, whereupon Elisha cries out that strange phrase, "My father, my father! The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!" Elisha is left the mantle of Elijah by which he, too, can strike the waters of the Jordan and pass back through on dry land. Elisha has become Elijah's prophetic successor, possessing his same powerful spirit of prophecy.
What does it all mean? Those fiery chariots and horses in the vision are symbols of the unseen power of God (cf. 2 Kings 6:15-18; 7:6-7). And that power has been concentrated in the prophetic Word that Elijah spoke and that will now be spoken by Elisha. Elijah's word was as powerful as a heavenly army, because it was the Word of the Lord.
Behind all of this story and behind our lives and the world around us, this text testifies to the fact that there is an unseen realm of God that constantly is influencing the course of affairs on our earth. God is at work, shaping events in our lives, sending forth his power to achieve his purposes on earth. And much of that power is concentrated now in the word that God speaks to us.
We do not receive that word from prophets like Elijah or Elisha anymore. Rather, now God's word comes to us through the Scriptures, written and preached. The word was incarnated into Jesus Christ our Lord, and now through the scriptural testimony to him, God's power works in our hearts and lives. It is a power greater than all the powers of earth, and it is symbolized in our text by those fiery chariots and horses. It is a power that transforms lives and heals broken spirits and overcomes the forces of evil and death. And that power works right now in the midst of this gathered congregation.
Is there anything, then, that you and I have to fear? Are we fearful of the future? God is at work. Do we wonder how evil can be overcome? God's victory is sure. Do we fear death and the valley of the shadow? God's incarnate word in Christ triumphed over death. The God of the prophets Elijah and Elisha, and the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, is the God of power, but also supremely the God of love. And he now encircles your life and mine. And so when you are afraid and anxious, despairing and afflicted in this world, remember the unseen world of God, and those fiery chariots and horses, and cry out to your Father in heaven, as Elisha cried, for in him is your sure salvation.
Lutheran Option: 1 Kings 19:15-16, 19-21
When the prophet Elijah was met by God on Mount Horeb and given God's command to get to work (see the preceding Sunday's lesson), one of the commands given to him was to return and anoint Elisha as a prophet in his place (v. 16). Verses 19 to 21 in this text now portray Elijah's obedience to that command.
Elisha is a very rich man in this story. He is plowing his field with twelve yoke of oxen, a team that stands in sharp contrast to the poor man's solitary yoked ox. But God's will has a way of interrupting the lives of all sorts of people, rich and poor, renowned and obscure, talented and unaccomplished. Let no one in any station of life think God has no role for them in his purpose.
God also has a way of interrupting our lives unexpectedly. Elisha is going about his business, when suddenly Elijah throws his prophetic mantle over Elisha's shoulders. There is no word before this that suggests Elisha expected such a thing.
But Elisha knows what the gesture means. He is called to be Elijah's disciple; he is called to leave all and follow, much like those disciples of Jesus were called to leave their fishing nets and to follow after him. It is a call to an unknown future. The disciples of our Lord did not know that Golgotha awaited them. And Elisha does not know on what course Elijah will lead him.
As an obedient son who honors his father and his mother, however, Elisha asks that he be allowed to say good-bye to his parents. And Elijah respects that request. The fact that Jesus denies such a wish, according to our gospel lesson, shows the radical nature of our Lord's call to each one of us. But Elijah lets Elisha go back and say farewell. He gives him an admonition, however, in verse 20. That verse should be read, "Go back again, but remember what I have done to you." Remember now that you have been called to a higher loyalty than that which you owe your family, and indeed, that is what Jesus tells each one of us also. Our commitment to him and his kingdom is not to be hedged by any reservation on our part.
Elisha shows that he has no such reservation. There is no notice in our text that he does in fact go home to say good-bye to his parents. Rather, he simply goes back to his oxen that have been standing in the field, kills them, and distributes their meat to others. In short, he makes an absolute break with his past. He sheds his trappings of wealth and follows after Elijah to serve him in his prophetic calling.
Most of us are not called to leave our homes and families and familiar surroundings to follow after Jesus, although there are Christian missionaries who have done exactly that. But most of us are called to a new way of life in the place wherever God has put us. And there is to be no hedging in that call. We cannot dally occasionally in some sin of the past, which our Lord has shown us to be contrary to his will. We cannot retain old hatreds and grudges, when Christ has called us to a life of forgiveness. We cannot continue to ignore persons whom we thought were insignificant, when we now know as Christians that every person is loved in God's sight. We cannot continue to believe that our desires, our thoughts, our habits are supreme, when we have accepted Jesus Christ as our Lord. And surely, we cannot continue to lead lifestyles of conspicuous consumption when we have turned over everything we are and have to God.
The call to a Christian life is a radical call, as the call to the life of prophecy was a radical call to Elisha. It is a call that gives us an entirely new perspective on everything we have and are. But it is a call that gives back a thousandfold for everything that we leave behind. Above all, it is a call to become what we were meant to be -- servants of our Lord Jesus Christ and witnesses of his gospel. There is no higher calling in this world, nor does any life give our living more meaning. To serve in the name of Jesus Christ -- there is no greater joy.
