Two Times
2 Kings 2:1-14; Mark 9:2-9

February 22, 2009


When the disciples had come down from the mountain of transfiguration, that most surreal of Gospel events at the end of Epiphany, they questioned Jesus about just what had happened up there in the cloudy mist. Jesus told them not to mention anything to anybody until the Son of Man had risen from the dead. The disciples asked sincerely, “What do you mean ‘risen from the dead’?”

Then they asked Jesus about Elijah and all the legends and myths about the prophet, but not a peep about Moses. Elijah has always been on everyone’s lips, perhaps the most exciting and enigmatic personality in the Bible. We can’t live without Jesus, but it is Elijah who sets the place on fire. Never quite know what these names were precisely meant to be, but “my God is Yahweh” is pretty close for this prophet who never died. Running around with a name like that still gets attention.

The end-story of Elijah is one of the greatest of all Biblical stories, indeed of world literature. It is no less surreal than the Transfiguration and so it is no wonder that both scripture passages are plunked together - neither one makes sense to a Richard Dawkins or a Christopher Hitchens! These are the stories to which we need to pay the most attention, because they tell us something Messrs. Dawkins and Hitchens never can.

In the previous episode Elijah’s great nemesis Ahab had died and his son Ahaziah had succeeded him to the throne in Samaria. Ahaziah did what was evil in the sight of the Lord, worshiping Ba’al as his father had done. But one day Ahaziah fell through the roof and was critically injured. He sent messengers off to pray to Ba’al-zebub that he might recover. Elijah got wind of this and told these messengers, “Is it because there is no God in Isreal that you are going to pray to Ba’al-zebub? Now thus says the Lord, the king is not going to recover and will surely die!”

The king was informed of this cheerful news, and asked the obvious question of a man of power, “What kind of man was he who told you these things?” The messengers replied, “He wore a garment of haircloth, with a girdle of leather about his loins.” Ahaziah knew. “It is Elijah the Tishbite.”

Can’t let him get away with that, so the king sent three separate units of 50 soldiers and their captain. The first two demanded Elijah to come down from a hill and meet the king, though they called him “O man of God.” “If I am a man of God, let fire come down from heaven and consume you and your fifty.” Zap. And so it came to pass, not once, but twice. The third captain had figured it out and pleaded very politely with Elijah to spare him and his men and would he not like to come down and have a chat with the king? The angel of the Lord sidled up to the prophet, “This guy’s all right, you can go with him.”

Elijah went down and met the king, but hadn’t changed his mind one iota. “So, there’s no God in Israel good enough for you? Well, you are not going to recover and you will surely die.” And so it came to pass and Ahaziah died without much ado.

Isn’t he just the greatest guy? Now with all of his faculties still intact, bringing fire down to burn up two companies of soldiers at a word, God is ready to retire him while he’s on top of his game. Elisha accompanied him on this ultimate journey, starting in Gilgal, right next to Jericho near the Jordan River, then west up into the hill country to Bethel, and then reversing direction to travel back down to Jericho, then to the Jordan and finally crossing over the Jordan. They appeared to be wandering aimlessly all over Israel, except that everyone knew where they were going.

The narrator knew it, Elijah certainly knew it, Elisha knew it too, as did several troupes of the sons of the prophets. How did everyone know? What kind of knowledge was this that by some spiritual osmosis Jordan they all saw a band of angels coming after Elijah, coming for to carry him home to God? I cannot tell you, but for sure, no atheist would ever have figured this one out.

This was more real than you and I can handle. Elisha wouldn’t let Elijah go, though he was given plenty of permission to leave. Those junior prophets were following them around, perhaps chanting prayers or making comments like those choruses in the great operas. Aimless by human standards this meandering may have been, but the players know that God is involved at every step. God is terribly present and something is happening.

This is the defining moment we have all come to sing about. The two prophets are standing on the verge of Jordan, with 50 prophets at a respectful distance, watching intensely every move. Elijah takes off and rolls up his coat, and slaps the water. The Jordan parted in the middle and the two walked over on dry ground. Who needs Moses?

Elijah turns to Elisha and asks what he can do for him. A double share of your spirit, two times what you’ve had. A hard, but simple request, and one that Elijah cannot grant. All he can say is that when I am being taken away from you, if you can see me, then two times my spirit you shall have. No human power broking or influence peddling, just if you can see me then God has granted you a gift.

Elisha could see - a chariot of fire and Elijah carried up in a whirlwind. Not sure what the 50 prophets saw. But in the twinkling of an eye there was nothing, just the still small silence of an empty stretch of land with Elijah’s coat lying there lonely. Elisha picked it up and since he had just torn his own clothes in two, the typical response to a tremendous loss, he probably needed it.

Back to the Jordan, Elisha looks at Elijah’s mantle, looks at the muddy water, and smacks it roaring, “Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?” Could Elisha have been doubting? The waters parted as before and Elisha re-crossed the Jordan into the Promised Land on dry ground.

Just for the record, Elijah performed eight miracles. Elisha would perform 16 - a double portion of the spirit.

Enthralled by the literal details of the chariot of fire and the Transfiguration of Jesus, our tendency is to see ourselves as the subjects, wishing that someday somehow, if I work at it hard enough, I can be standing there with Moses, Elijah and Jesus, and like Peter I can convince them to linger a while with a shack I’ve put together on the mountaintop and we can talk for days, weeks, years about the spiritual life.

Or, in the fervent hope that one day we can sing fervently, “Swing low, sweet chariot, coming for to carry me home!” That’s the reward we hope to receive. But it’s not about your reward, this is about who God is and how God changes us. These things happened in God’s time and they aren’t going to be repeated in our time. We want them to last long enough to savour their beauty, but for God a split-second is an eternity, so what we see we can never keep or control and manipulate. In a split-second, in the twinkling of an eye, we are changed with the meaning of the universe imprinted indelibly in our minds and bodies. Yet, do we not all say that God makes us different, unique individuals? That split-second is unique for each one of us, if only we are courageous enough to look.

Just to be perfectly clear, there is no way to describe God completely using human language. This is not rocket science; it’s something a lot more. Therefore, people of every generation and age and culture have strained to say something that points us towards comprehending God and that’s all we can do - point at something, someone we cannot describe. We mumble a little, I’ve mumbled some too. But when we point at the indescribable, God points back and describes you.

Preached by Robert Kitchen
Knox-Metropolitan United Church
Regina, Saskatchewan