Preparing to Go
Commentary
I have just recently returned from an out-of-town trip, and as I read our selected passages for this week, I find myself reminded of the days leading up to that trip. With a few exceptions, most of the traveling that you and I do is known in advance and planned. And therefore the days leading up to our departure are filled with deliberate preparations.
It takes a lot of work to get ready to go. Some of the preparations have to do with the place you’re going — at a minimum, the travel and accommodation arrangements. And some of the preparations have to do with the place you are leaving behind — guaranteeing that all necessary things are done before you go and being covered in your absence.
When I was fairly new in my present appointment, I was surprised one day to receive an email from a staff member with a subject line that read, “OOOPs.” I thought it was an email to alert me to some mistake that had been made, or perhaps an apology for something left undone. Quite the contrary. “OOOPs” was his playful acronym for “Out Of Office Plans,” and the email was his way of alerting the rest of the staff about how long he’d be gone on an upcoming trip and what arrangements had been made to cover his responsibilities in his absence.
It would be a grossly irresponsible thing, of course, to depart for any length of time without making such plans and arrangements. If you or I just disappeared for a week or two without notifying anyone or making preparations, all sorts of wheels would come off for the people and responsibilities we would leave behind. So it is that, whether we think of it as “OOOPs” or not, we know what it is to prepare to go away.
That experience will be an important one to keep before our eyes this week as we ponder the passages we’re assigned to preach. Specifically, both our Old Testament and Gospel lections come from settings of ‘preparing to go.’ The 2 Kings passage begins, “Now when the Lord was about to take Elijah up to heaven...” and the Luke excerpt begins, “When the days drew near for (Jesus) to be taken up...” Both Elijah and Jesus, you see, were getting ready to go. And since we know something about that process, we are in a good position to think about these stories together.
2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14
The pulpit in the church where I grew up was a magnificent wooden piece, ornately carved all around. As I recall, it was a hexagon. The “rear” side was open, where the stairs led into and out of the pulpit. The other five sides, meanwhile, featured impressive carvings of selected Old Testament prophets (three prophets on each side). All of the prophets were identifiable, both by some symbolic element within the carving and by the nameplate carved below the figure. All but one, that is. The name carved beneath one of the figures was “Elisah.”
From all that I heard during my years in that church, no one knew which prophet it was meant to be. Was it “Elijah,” but the “j” had been mistakenly rendered as an “s”? Or was it “Elisha,” with the “s” and “h” accidentally transposed? Or could it be that the artist found it impossible to choose between the two, and so he offered this compromise?
Elijah and Elisha are probably often confused in the minds of our people, as well. They are connected to one another in the story of Israel’s history, and the ministry of the one follows immediately on the heels of the other. Furthermore, both characters’ reputations may get shortchanged because they do not have their own books the way that prophets like Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel do. Yet they are pivotal characters in their eras — men of importance and impact.
Our selected passage records the transition from Elijah to Elisha. Up until this moment, Elijah has been the dominant character, occupying Israel’s spotlight. Following this moment, however, Elisha becomes the main man. This episode, therefore, reads like the passing of a baton in a relay race, except that in this case the prophetic “baton” is actually a mantle — Elijah’s outer garment.
The significance of Elijah’s mantle traces back to earlier in the story. It was evident when the prophet had his dramatic encounter with God at Horeb (1 Kings 19:13). Upon leaving that encounter, Elijah was instructed by God to anoint Elisha as a prophet in his place (verse 16), and Elijah’s calling of Elisha is embodied then by Elijah throwing his mantle on Elisha (verse 19).
When we arrive at this moment early in 2 Kings, therefore, there is already meaning attached to this cloak. When it falls from the raptured Elijah and is picked up by Elisha, it truly signals that Elisha is Elijah’s successor. And that role of successor is confirmed, then, when Elisha arrives with the cloak at the Jordan River.
Ask the people in your pews when a body of water was parted in the Bible, and most will refer to the event at the Red Sea during the Exodus. Yet there are three other water-parting occasions. The second occurrence comes in the generation after the Red Sea occasion, under the leadership of Joshua (Joshua 3:14-17). And the other two occurrences are found here in our assigned lection.
When Elijah and Elisha had crossed the Jordan together to the east, Elijah had struck the river with his cloak, and it parted. Now, Elisha returns to the river alone. He needs to cross over to the west. And on that bank, he boldly calls out, "Where is the LORD, the God of Elijah?", mimics Elijah’s action, and the water parts again.
I noted that Elisha boldly called out. Boldness is Elisha’s calling card. We’ll consider that trait more below. For the present, however, we note — along with the contemporary observers — that Elisha is now the rightful heir to Elijah’s spirit and his successor as the preeminent prophet in the land of Israel.
Galatians 5:1, 13-25
Close your eyes, sit still, and ponder for just a few minutes the theme of freedom that reverberates through scripture. Where do you see evidence of the Lord’s will for his people to be free?
Perhaps we will think first of the great story of liberation found in Exodus — God using Moses in order to set free the children of Israel from their slavery in Egypt. Or we might think of how central to Christ’s understanding of his calling was the mission of proclaiming liberty to the captives (Luke 4:16-19). Likewise, Jesus’ guarantee that whom the son sets free is free indeed also comes to mind (John 8:36).
Interestingly, Jesus’ responses both to a woman’s physical condition (Luke 13:10-16) and to people’s spiritual condition (John 8:33-34) is framed in terms of bondage or freedom. The scheduled setting free of slaves and indebted individuals prescribed by the Old Testament law adds to the theme. And the very sovereign choice that God made at the beginning — the granting of free will to human beings — is primary evidence of God’s desire that people should be free.
Ah, but look around and see how little freedom there is. Or, to put it another way, see how much bondage there is. There are the sinister ways that one group of people may oppress, abduct, abuse, or enslave another group. We see, too, how circumstances of poverty, illness, or handicapping conditions prevent people from being truly free. And then there are the insidious ways that individuals surrender themselves to bondage. Untold numbers of debts, habits, fears, prejudices, and addictions keep people bound on the inside, if not on the outside.
All of it runs contrary to the perfect will of God.
We should not be surprised, therefore, to find the theme of liberation and freedom echoing throughout the gospel message. Yet it is not the sort of freedom for which human beings so often clamor and fight. It is not, for example, the counterfeit freedom of license to do whatever one pleases. Neither is it the revolutionary freedom that is won for human beings by themselves through military or political conflict. Rather, it is a freedom accomplished by and experienced in Christ.
See those saints of God who stand truly erect and free! They are marked by love — generous and joyful. They have been set free from their sins by the forgiveness of God, and they have been set free from the sins of other people by the forgiveness they themselves have extended. These faithful souls are bold in the center of God’s will and thus free of fear. They have died to self and are thereby free of the heavy chains of self-interest and self-preservation. They turn their other cheeks and walk the extra mile for they have been set free of the burden of pride. They do not cling to their possessions and give gladly to anyone who asks because they are free of the grasping materialism of those who seek to lay up treasures for themselves on earth and who do not trust the one who clothes the flowers and feeds the birds. They are not stressfully torn between two masters, for they worship the Lord and serve him only. And, as Paul anticipates later in our selected passage, they are not trapped in the fallen patterns of impurity, idolatry, strife, anger, quarrels, envy, carousing, and such, for they have been set free from the flesh to live by the Spirit.
This is the great theme of the second half of our passage. Paul sets in juxtaposition the Spirit and the flesh. Or, to put it another way, it is a comparison of what our human nature desires and produces, on the one hand, and what God’s nature desires and produces, on the other. The list generated by the latter is famous and cherished. We have heard it recited, taught it, preached it, and seen it on countless posters and hangings. It is the “fruit of the Spirit,” and it features a list of attributes that has rightly been the subject of so much teaching in the church throughout the generations.
The preceding list, by contrast, is not so celebrated. No one crochets “the works of the flesh” from verses 19 through 21 and hangs them in the church parlor. It is a grim litany. Yet still it is familiar. Familiar not because we rehearse it with our Vacation Bible School kids the way we do the fruit of the Spirit. But familiar because we see the empirical evidence for Paul’s point all around us. International headlines and interpersonal relationships alike bear witness to the works of the flesh — the brokenness and dysfunction that flows from our fallen human nature.
But these, too, are not the perfect will of God. The Lord wants better for us. He does not want us in bondage, and therefore he does not want us trapped in the works of the flesh. Rather, he wants us free — set free by Christ and thus marked by the lovely and fruitful work of his Spirit within us!
Luke 9:51-62
Fans of the Zodiac divide humanity into twelve birth signs. While that division is by birth month, the Chinese system focuses on birth year, though also following a cycle of twelve. Enneagram devotees talk about nine distinct ways of dealing with self, others, and the world. And those who have found meaning and understanding in the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator see the world in terms of sixteen personality types.
I’m sure there are other systems out there for helping us to understand ourselves and others. And no doubt more will be invented. But for us today, I wonder if the Gospel writer Luke furnishes us with a helpful sort of spiritual “type indicator.”
Our selected passage from Luke economically shows us a handful of different types. Not different personalities per se, but different ways of responding to Jesus. And truth be told, from a big picture perspective, these are the most important and long-lasting differences of all.
The first type we encounter is mentioned so briefly that we might overlook them. We are not told their names, though it stands to reason that they were selected from among Jesus’ disciples. Luke simply reports that Jesus “sent messengers ahead of him,” apparently “to make ready for him.” That is not a minor detail. We see disciples doing that prior to the Last Supper. On a different scale, that seems to have been the entire purpose of John the Baptist’s ministry. And perhaps we would recognize that it is our calling, too. In the case of these “messengers,” we don’t know much about them, except that they seemed to be faithful and obedient in their service.
The second type that we meet, meanwhile, is represented by the unidentified Samaritan village. So far as we can tell from the text, those folks never heard from Jesus. Indeed, it may be that they never even met him or saw him. They rejected him a priori. And why? “Because his face was set toward Jerusalem.”
You and I are familiar with the centuries-old bad blood that existed between the Jews and the Samaritans at this time. Now is not the time to rehearse it for ourselves or for our people. Suffice it to say that Jesus was not really rejected on his own merits or faults. They did not let him get close enough to evaluate him before rejecting him. He was rejected out of hand, based on prejudices. I suspect we recognize that the type represented by that village did not die with those first-century Samaritans.
The third type that we see in the narrative of the story is represented by James and John. They hear of the Samaritan village’s rejection of Jesus, and they ask him, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” All sorts of followers of Jesus are zealous, you know, but they are not all zealous for the same things. All sorts of disciples are eager, but they are not all eager in the same direction. James and John, in the spirit of Jonah centuries before them, were trigger-happy for the judgment of God. And they discovered that, even though they were defensive of their Lord, they were not on the same page as their Lord. This, too, is a familiar type that did not disappear from the church with the passing of James and John.
And then, finally, the last type portrayed in this brief narrative is represented by those three characters we often refer to as “the would-be disciples.” These are a little harder to characterize fairly, for we do not know exactly how any of their stories turned out. What we do know, though, is that two of them are characterized by a willingness to follow Jesus... later.
The first of the two makes what appears to us to be a reasonable request. Jesus invites him to follow, and he replies, "Lord, first let me go and bury my father." What employer wouldn’t make that allowance? What friend wouldn’t sympathize and accommodate? But Jesus answers, "Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God."
The second of the two, by contrast, seems to initiate with Jesus. "I will follow you, Lord,” he says, “but let me first say farewell to those at my home." Again, that appears to be a very reasonable offer, and it does not sound like much of a delay. Yet, again, Jesus’ response seems dissatisfied: "No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God."
What is clear from all three of the brief “would-be-disciple” vignettes is a no-nonsense message about the nature of discipleship. That seems to be the spirit of Jesus’ response to the first offer to follow, and it is surely the strong word being spoken to the other two, whom we have mentioned. And perhaps the single greatest takeaway from those two encounters, which may serve to characterize the “would-be disciple” as a “type,” is their use of the word “first.”
Notice that both of these guys want to do something else “first.” "Lord, first let me go and bury my father." "I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home." And while, in human terms, both requests seem ordinary and reasonable, a big-picture perspective should help us see more clearly. Under what circumstances is it reasonable to say “but first” to Jesus? When is it sensible to put something else first before the one who is “the first and the last”?
The Zodiac signs, the Chinese year animals, the Enneagram types, and the Myers-Briggs initials all prompt us to think about which category we’re in and what characterizes us. Perhaps Luke’s quick portraits of different types of responses to Christ will be similarly provocative and revealing to us. And this about the most important matter of all.
Application
We noted above this similarity between our Old Testament and Gospel passages: namely, that they both are stories about getting ready to go. Elijah clearly knows that his time to be “taken up” is at hand. And Jesus, too, has “set his face to go to Jerusalem” with a full awareness of what is ahead for him.
I have proposed that we might read these episodes, then, through the eyes of our own experience. We know what it is to get ready to go. We know about the preparations and the plans. And that (admittedly routine) experience might offer some insight into these biblical texts.
Interestingly, both stories are all about the followers. In other words, immediately in the wake of the news about Elijah and Jesus being about to be “taken up” we are told about their disciples. The implication seems to be that there is a continuing work to be done. Elijah’s departure from the scene does not close the curtain on the prophetic task in ancient Israel. And, likewise, the death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus mark more the beginning than the end of God’s saving work in the world.
In the case of Elijah, there is just the one disciple. That’s not to say that there wasn’t a larger ‘school of prophets’ that may have surrounded Elijah. Yet clearly he had one successor as the primary leader of that school and the prominent prophetic voice on the national stage. That disciple was Elisha.
The story of Elijah’s departure proves to be a sort of test of Elisha’s mettle. Will he be easily dissuaded? Will he be timid and retiring? If so, then he is probably not the man for the job. But, instead, Elisha exhibits a tenacity and boldness that are essential for the calling. He will not take ‘no’ for an answer. Indeed, he will not even take ‘not much’ for an answer, for he craves “a double share” of Elijah’s spirit. And his activity in this transition scene sets the stage for the remarkable ministry that will follow.
Meanwhile, the story that comes in the wake of Luke’s announcement that Jesus’ time had drawn near is also disciple-oriented. This episode is, however, at once more complex than the Elijah/Elisha pericope and also just as easily distilled.
The story is more complex for it actually represents a series of stories. First, there is the sending out of messengers to prepare the way in advance of Jesus’ coming. Then there is the unbecoming response of James and John to the Samaritan village that rejected Jesus. And then there is the brief series of so-called would-be disciples. This episode, therefore, has more layers than the Old Testament passage does.
The ‘sending ahead,’ of course, is a helpful metaphor for us in our day. We, too, are messengers that are sent out to prepare the world around us for Christ’s coming. I expect, however, that this is a much-neglected task in so much of American Christianity. And in this particular, the analogy breaks down between the Old and New Testament passages. Elisha picks up Elijah’s baton, you see, and the continuing work is about the word of the Lord, not about Elijah. In the case of Jesus’ followers, on the other hand, the continuing work is about Jesus — for the one who is going away is coming again.
Meanwhile, the bottom-line takeaway from the Gospel passage is not so different from that of the 2 Kings episode. The question, you see, is whether the followers have what it takes to continue the work. For Elisha, that meant tenacity and boldness. For the disciples, that meant faithfulness, charity, and single-minded, whole-hearted commitment.
And what does all of it mean for us? Just this. We know what it is to make plans and preparations for going away. And with that personal experience and understanding, we are well-positioned to appreciate the news that the Lord made plans and preparations for his (temporary) departure, and those plans and arrangements include us!
Alternative Application(s)
2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14 — “The Beauty of Boldness”
I officiated at a funeral service some years ago for a man who was rather controversial in his community. He was a shrewd businessman and a real player in local politics. And during his life, he was as likely to be criticized behind his back as praised.
During the eulogy for that man, I noted that we sometimes forget the variety that the Lord creates and enjoys. “The same God who made the butterfly,” I observed, “also made the lion.” And so it is with people, too. There is a great diversity in personality types, and I believe that the Lord delights in that variety.
Too often, in my judgment, American Christians settle for — perhaps even aspire to — merely pastel virtues. Nice. Affable. Mild-mannered. Inoffensive. These are the attributes that have come to characterize what so many folks mean when they use “Christian” as a descriptive term for someone’s personality.
Of course, “Christian” is not an adjective in scripture — certainly not an adjective that is meant to describe what we should be like. “Godly” is such an adjective in scripture. So are “righteous” and “faithful.” But those are strong adjectives — more robust, less pastel.
I wonder how characters like Jacob, Naomi, Nehemiah, and Paul would be viewed in most of our churches. These are strong, aggressive personalities. No shrinking violets here. And, likewise, the Old Testament prophet Elisha was more lion than butterfly.
See the tenaciousness of the man who would not be left behind, even upon instructions from his own mentor. See the intensity of the man who brushed off his fellow prophets and their conversations. See the audacity of the man who asks for “a double share” of Elijah’s spirit. And see the boldness of the man who marches back to the Jordan River, smacks it with Elijah’s mantle, and calls out for the Lord God to work a miracle.
The meek-and-mild Christians would have stayed behind the first time Elijah said so. They would have been waylaid by the prophets along the way with their input and their warnings. We would have demurred when asked what Elijah could do for us. And we would have hiked up our robes and waded into the Jordan, never presuming to ask God to part it on our behalf.
But Elisha was a great servant of God. He was used by God to impact lives, kings, and nations. I wonder if he could have been used so mightily, though, if he had not been so bold.
Do not misunderstand. Boldness is not arrogance. Godly boldness is not even self-confidence. But boldness that comes from God and serves God is a beautiful thing, and as such Elisha should be a role model for us.
It takes a lot of work to get ready to go. Some of the preparations have to do with the place you’re going — at a minimum, the travel and accommodation arrangements. And some of the preparations have to do with the place you are leaving behind — guaranteeing that all necessary things are done before you go and being covered in your absence.
When I was fairly new in my present appointment, I was surprised one day to receive an email from a staff member with a subject line that read, “OOOPs.” I thought it was an email to alert me to some mistake that had been made, or perhaps an apology for something left undone. Quite the contrary. “OOOPs” was his playful acronym for “Out Of Office Plans,” and the email was his way of alerting the rest of the staff about how long he’d be gone on an upcoming trip and what arrangements had been made to cover his responsibilities in his absence.
It would be a grossly irresponsible thing, of course, to depart for any length of time without making such plans and arrangements. If you or I just disappeared for a week or two without notifying anyone or making preparations, all sorts of wheels would come off for the people and responsibilities we would leave behind. So it is that, whether we think of it as “OOOPs” or not, we know what it is to prepare to go away.
That experience will be an important one to keep before our eyes this week as we ponder the passages we’re assigned to preach. Specifically, both our Old Testament and Gospel lections come from settings of ‘preparing to go.’ The 2 Kings passage begins, “Now when the Lord was about to take Elijah up to heaven...” and the Luke excerpt begins, “When the days drew near for (Jesus) to be taken up...” Both Elijah and Jesus, you see, were getting ready to go. And since we know something about that process, we are in a good position to think about these stories together.
2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14
The pulpit in the church where I grew up was a magnificent wooden piece, ornately carved all around. As I recall, it was a hexagon. The “rear” side was open, where the stairs led into and out of the pulpit. The other five sides, meanwhile, featured impressive carvings of selected Old Testament prophets (three prophets on each side). All of the prophets were identifiable, both by some symbolic element within the carving and by the nameplate carved below the figure. All but one, that is. The name carved beneath one of the figures was “Elisah.”
From all that I heard during my years in that church, no one knew which prophet it was meant to be. Was it “Elijah,” but the “j” had been mistakenly rendered as an “s”? Or was it “Elisha,” with the “s” and “h” accidentally transposed? Or could it be that the artist found it impossible to choose between the two, and so he offered this compromise?
Elijah and Elisha are probably often confused in the minds of our people, as well. They are connected to one another in the story of Israel’s history, and the ministry of the one follows immediately on the heels of the other. Furthermore, both characters’ reputations may get shortchanged because they do not have their own books the way that prophets like Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel do. Yet they are pivotal characters in their eras — men of importance and impact.
Our selected passage records the transition from Elijah to Elisha. Up until this moment, Elijah has been the dominant character, occupying Israel’s spotlight. Following this moment, however, Elisha becomes the main man. This episode, therefore, reads like the passing of a baton in a relay race, except that in this case the prophetic “baton” is actually a mantle — Elijah’s outer garment.
The significance of Elijah’s mantle traces back to earlier in the story. It was evident when the prophet had his dramatic encounter with God at Horeb (1 Kings 19:13). Upon leaving that encounter, Elijah was instructed by God to anoint Elisha as a prophet in his place (verse 16), and Elijah’s calling of Elisha is embodied then by Elijah throwing his mantle on Elisha (verse 19).
When we arrive at this moment early in 2 Kings, therefore, there is already meaning attached to this cloak. When it falls from the raptured Elijah and is picked up by Elisha, it truly signals that Elisha is Elijah’s successor. And that role of successor is confirmed, then, when Elisha arrives with the cloak at the Jordan River.
Ask the people in your pews when a body of water was parted in the Bible, and most will refer to the event at the Red Sea during the Exodus. Yet there are three other water-parting occasions. The second occurrence comes in the generation after the Red Sea occasion, under the leadership of Joshua (Joshua 3:14-17). And the other two occurrences are found here in our assigned lection.
When Elijah and Elisha had crossed the Jordan together to the east, Elijah had struck the river with his cloak, and it parted. Now, Elisha returns to the river alone. He needs to cross over to the west. And on that bank, he boldly calls out, "Where is the LORD, the God of Elijah?", mimics Elijah’s action, and the water parts again.
I noted that Elisha boldly called out. Boldness is Elisha’s calling card. We’ll consider that trait more below. For the present, however, we note — along with the contemporary observers — that Elisha is now the rightful heir to Elijah’s spirit and his successor as the preeminent prophet in the land of Israel.
Galatians 5:1, 13-25
Close your eyes, sit still, and ponder for just a few minutes the theme of freedom that reverberates through scripture. Where do you see evidence of the Lord’s will for his people to be free?
Perhaps we will think first of the great story of liberation found in Exodus — God using Moses in order to set free the children of Israel from their slavery in Egypt. Or we might think of how central to Christ’s understanding of his calling was the mission of proclaiming liberty to the captives (Luke 4:16-19). Likewise, Jesus’ guarantee that whom the son sets free is free indeed also comes to mind (John 8:36).
Interestingly, Jesus’ responses both to a woman’s physical condition (Luke 13:10-16) and to people’s spiritual condition (John 8:33-34) is framed in terms of bondage or freedom. The scheduled setting free of slaves and indebted individuals prescribed by the Old Testament law adds to the theme. And the very sovereign choice that God made at the beginning — the granting of free will to human beings — is primary evidence of God’s desire that people should be free.
Ah, but look around and see how little freedom there is. Or, to put it another way, see how much bondage there is. There are the sinister ways that one group of people may oppress, abduct, abuse, or enslave another group. We see, too, how circumstances of poverty, illness, or handicapping conditions prevent people from being truly free. And then there are the insidious ways that individuals surrender themselves to bondage. Untold numbers of debts, habits, fears, prejudices, and addictions keep people bound on the inside, if not on the outside.
All of it runs contrary to the perfect will of God.
We should not be surprised, therefore, to find the theme of liberation and freedom echoing throughout the gospel message. Yet it is not the sort of freedom for which human beings so often clamor and fight. It is not, for example, the counterfeit freedom of license to do whatever one pleases. Neither is it the revolutionary freedom that is won for human beings by themselves through military or political conflict. Rather, it is a freedom accomplished by and experienced in Christ.
See those saints of God who stand truly erect and free! They are marked by love — generous and joyful. They have been set free from their sins by the forgiveness of God, and they have been set free from the sins of other people by the forgiveness they themselves have extended. These faithful souls are bold in the center of God’s will and thus free of fear. They have died to self and are thereby free of the heavy chains of self-interest and self-preservation. They turn their other cheeks and walk the extra mile for they have been set free of the burden of pride. They do not cling to their possessions and give gladly to anyone who asks because they are free of the grasping materialism of those who seek to lay up treasures for themselves on earth and who do not trust the one who clothes the flowers and feeds the birds. They are not stressfully torn between two masters, for they worship the Lord and serve him only. And, as Paul anticipates later in our selected passage, they are not trapped in the fallen patterns of impurity, idolatry, strife, anger, quarrels, envy, carousing, and such, for they have been set free from the flesh to live by the Spirit.
This is the great theme of the second half of our passage. Paul sets in juxtaposition the Spirit and the flesh. Or, to put it another way, it is a comparison of what our human nature desires and produces, on the one hand, and what God’s nature desires and produces, on the other. The list generated by the latter is famous and cherished. We have heard it recited, taught it, preached it, and seen it on countless posters and hangings. It is the “fruit of the Spirit,” and it features a list of attributes that has rightly been the subject of so much teaching in the church throughout the generations.
The preceding list, by contrast, is not so celebrated. No one crochets “the works of the flesh” from verses 19 through 21 and hangs them in the church parlor. It is a grim litany. Yet still it is familiar. Familiar not because we rehearse it with our Vacation Bible School kids the way we do the fruit of the Spirit. But familiar because we see the empirical evidence for Paul’s point all around us. International headlines and interpersonal relationships alike bear witness to the works of the flesh — the brokenness and dysfunction that flows from our fallen human nature.
But these, too, are not the perfect will of God. The Lord wants better for us. He does not want us in bondage, and therefore he does not want us trapped in the works of the flesh. Rather, he wants us free — set free by Christ and thus marked by the lovely and fruitful work of his Spirit within us!
Luke 9:51-62
Fans of the Zodiac divide humanity into twelve birth signs. While that division is by birth month, the Chinese system focuses on birth year, though also following a cycle of twelve. Enneagram devotees talk about nine distinct ways of dealing with self, others, and the world. And those who have found meaning and understanding in the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator see the world in terms of sixteen personality types.
I’m sure there are other systems out there for helping us to understand ourselves and others. And no doubt more will be invented. But for us today, I wonder if the Gospel writer Luke furnishes us with a helpful sort of spiritual “type indicator.”
Our selected passage from Luke economically shows us a handful of different types. Not different personalities per se, but different ways of responding to Jesus. And truth be told, from a big picture perspective, these are the most important and long-lasting differences of all.
The first type we encounter is mentioned so briefly that we might overlook them. We are not told their names, though it stands to reason that they were selected from among Jesus’ disciples. Luke simply reports that Jesus “sent messengers ahead of him,” apparently “to make ready for him.” That is not a minor detail. We see disciples doing that prior to the Last Supper. On a different scale, that seems to have been the entire purpose of John the Baptist’s ministry. And perhaps we would recognize that it is our calling, too. In the case of these “messengers,” we don’t know much about them, except that they seemed to be faithful and obedient in their service.
The second type that we meet, meanwhile, is represented by the unidentified Samaritan village. So far as we can tell from the text, those folks never heard from Jesus. Indeed, it may be that they never even met him or saw him. They rejected him a priori. And why? “Because his face was set toward Jerusalem.”
You and I are familiar with the centuries-old bad blood that existed between the Jews and the Samaritans at this time. Now is not the time to rehearse it for ourselves or for our people. Suffice it to say that Jesus was not really rejected on his own merits or faults. They did not let him get close enough to evaluate him before rejecting him. He was rejected out of hand, based on prejudices. I suspect we recognize that the type represented by that village did not die with those first-century Samaritans.
The third type that we see in the narrative of the story is represented by James and John. They hear of the Samaritan village’s rejection of Jesus, and they ask him, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” All sorts of followers of Jesus are zealous, you know, but they are not all zealous for the same things. All sorts of disciples are eager, but they are not all eager in the same direction. James and John, in the spirit of Jonah centuries before them, were trigger-happy for the judgment of God. And they discovered that, even though they were defensive of their Lord, they were not on the same page as their Lord. This, too, is a familiar type that did not disappear from the church with the passing of James and John.
And then, finally, the last type portrayed in this brief narrative is represented by those three characters we often refer to as “the would-be disciples.” These are a little harder to characterize fairly, for we do not know exactly how any of their stories turned out. What we do know, though, is that two of them are characterized by a willingness to follow Jesus... later.
The first of the two makes what appears to us to be a reasonable request. Jesus invites him to follow, and he replies, "Lord, first let me go and bury my father." What employer wouldn’t make that allowance? What friend wouldn’t sympathize and accommodate? But Jesus answers, "Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God."
The second of the two, by contrast, seems to initiate with Jesus. "I will follow you, Lord,” he says, “but let me first say farewell to those at my home." Again, that appears to be a very reasonable offer, and it does not sound like much of a delay. Yet, again, Jesus’ response seems dissatisfied: "No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God."
What is clear from all three of the brief “would-be-disciple” vignettes is a no-nonsense message about the nature of discipleship. That seems to be the spirit of Jesus’ response to the first offer to follow, and it is surely the strong word being spoken to the other two, whom we have mentioned. And perhaps the single greatest takeaway from those two encounters, which may serve to characterize the “would-be disciple” as a “type,” is their use of the word “first.”
Notice that both of these guys want to do something else “first.” "Lord, first let me go and bury my father." "I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home." And while, in human terms, both requests seem ordinary and reasonable, a big-picture perspective should help us see more clearly. Under what circumstances is it reasonable to say “but first” to Jesus? When is it sensible to put something else first before the one who is “the first and the last”?
The Zodiac signs, the Chinese year animals, the Enneagram types, and the Myers-Briggs initials all prompt us to think about which category we’re in and what characterizes us. Perhaps Luke’s quick portraits of different types of responses to Christ will be similarly provocative and revealing to us. And this about the most important matter of all.
Application
We noted above this similarity between our Old Testament and Gospel passages: namely, that they both are stories about getting ready to go. Elijah clearly knows that his time to be “taken up” is at hand. And Jesus, too, has “set his face to go to Jerusalem” with a full awareness of what is ahead for him.
I have proposed that we might read these episodes, then, through the eyes of our own experience. We know what it is to get ready to go. We know about the preparations and the plans. And that (admittedly routine) experience might offer some insight into these biblical texts.
Interestingly, both stories are all about the followers. In other words, immediately in the wake of the news about Elijah and Jesus being about to be “taken up” we are told about their disciples. The implication seems to be that there is a continuing work to be done. Elijah’s departure from the scene does not close the curtain on the prophetic task in ancient Israel. And, likewise, the death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus mark more the beginning than the end of God’s saving work in the world.
In the case of Elijah, there is just the one disciple. That’s not to say that there wasn’t a larger ‘school of prophets’ that may have surrounded Elijah. Yet clearly he had one successor as the primary leader of that school and the prominent prophetic voice on the national stage. That disciple was Elisha.
The story of Elijah’s departure proves to be a sort of test of Elisha’s mettle. Will he be easily dissuaded? Will he be timid and retiring? If so, then he is probably not the man for the job. But, instead, Elisha exhibits a tenacity and boldness that are essential for the calling. He will not take ‘no’ for an answer. Indeed, he will not even take ‘not much’ for an answer, for he craves “a double share” of Elijah’s spirit. And his activity in this transition scene sets the stage for the remarkable ministry that will follow.
Meanwhile, the story that comes in the wake of Luke’s announcement that Jesus’ time had drawn near is also disciple-oriented. This episode is, however, at once more complex than the Elijah/Elisha pericope and also just as easily distilled.
The story is more complex for it actually represents a series of stories. First, there is the sending out of messengers to prepare the way in advance of Jesus’ coming. Then there is the unbecoming response of James and John to the Samaritan village that rejected Jesus. And then there is the brief series of so-called would-be disciples. This episode, therefore, has more layers than the Old Testament passage does.
The ‘sending ahead,’ of course, is a helpful metaphor for us in our day. We, too, are messengers that are sent out to prepare the world around us for Christ’s coming. I expect, however, that this is a much-neglected task in so much of American Christianity. And in this particular, the analogy breaks down between the Old and New Testament passages. Elisha picks up Elijah’s baton, you see, and the continuing work is about the word of the Lord, not about Elijah. In the case of Jesus’ followers, on the other hand, the continuing work is about Jesus — for the one who is going away is coming again.
Meanwhile, the bottom-line takeaway from the Gospel passage is not so different from that of the 2 Kings episode. The question, you see, is whether the followers have what it takes to continue the work. For Elisha, that meant tenacity and boldness. For the disciples, that meant faithfulness, charity, and single-minded, whole-hearted commitment.
And what does all of it mean for us? Just this. We know what it is to make plans and preparations for going away. And with that personal experience and understanding, we are well-positioned to appreciate the news that the Lord made plans and preparations for his (temporary) departure, and those plans and arrangements include us!
Alternative Application(s)
2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14 — “The Beauty of Boldness”
I officiated at a funeral service some years ago for a man who was rather controversial in his community. He was a shrewd businessman and a real player in local politics. And during his life, he was as likely to be criticized behind his back as praised.
During the eulogy for that man, I noted that we sometimes forget the variety that the Lord creates and enjoys. “The same God who made the butterfly,” I observed, “also made the lion.” And so it is with people, too. There is a great diversity in personality types, and I believe that the Lord delights in that variety.
Too often, in my judgment, American Christians settle for — perhaps even aspire to — merely pastel virtues. Nice. Affable. Mild-mannered. Inoffensive. These are the attributes that have come to characterize what so many folks mean when they use “Christian” as a descriptive term for someone’s personality.
Of course, “Christian” is not an adjective in scripture — certainly not an adjective that is meant to describe what we should be like. “Godly” is such an adjective in scripture. So are “righteous” and “faithful.” But those are strong adjectives — more robust, less pastel.
I wonder how characters like Jacob, Naomi, Nehemiah, and Paul would be viewed in most of our churches. These are strong, aggressive personalities. No shrinking violets here. And, likewise, the Old Testament prophet Elisha was more lion than butterfly.
See the tenaciousness of the man who would not be left behind, even upon instructions from his own mentor. See the intensity of the man who brushed off his fellow prophets and their conversations. See the audacity of the man who asks for “a double share” of Elijah’s spirit. And see the boldness of the man who marches back to the Jordan River, smacks it with Elijah’s mantle, and calls out for the Lord God to work a miracle.
The meek-and-mild Christians would have stayed behind the first time Elijah said so. They would have been waylaid by the prophets along the way with their input and their warnings. We would have demurred when asked what Elijah could do for us. And we would have hiked up our robes and waded into the Jordan, never presuming to ask God to part it on our behalf.
But Elisha was a great servant of God. He was used by God to impact lives, kings, and nations. I wonder if he could have been used so mightily, though, if he had not been so bold.
Do not misunderstand. Boldness is not arrogance. Godly boldness is not even self-confidence. But boldness that comes from God and serves God is a beautiful thing, and as such Elisha should be a role model for us.
