WALKING IN THE SHADOW
2 Kings 2:1-14
[Since spoken communication differs from written, some of the grammar and syntax of this transcript may seem awkward in written form. To keep integrity with the spirit of the original delivery, the transcript stays close to the exact words spoken.]
Elisha walked in his shadow. Perhaps this is the story where that cliche originated. Perhaps it is Elijah, the great prophet, who gave rise to that phrase we often speak about a great person when we say, "He cast a great shadow" or, "She cast a great shadow." Elijah the prophet of God cast a great shadow, and Elisha his disciple, his protege, walked in that shadow.
I think that Elijah's story gets short shrift in our Christian preaching. Because we, of course, talk all the time about Jesus and the persons surrounding the life of Jesus. But many of you may not know a thing about Elijah. I won't ask you to raise your hand if you've heard of Elijah or know anything about him. And yet, Elijah is considered to be perhaps the greatest prophet in the history of Israel. A prophet on par with Moses in the estimation of the Hebrew people. If you recall the story of the transfiguration, when the disciples climb that mountain with Jesus, and they see this a vision of God. In that vision, they see Jesus along with Moses and Elijah. He's one of two people in the Old Testament who do not suffer death, but are taken up by God, to be with God in the heavenly realm, one of two people in the Hebrew scriptures who do not die.
He was a leader of unwavering faith in Yahweh, the God of Israel. A leader of uncompromising integrity. And if you read the story of Elijah, if you were living in his time, you might not have wanted to mess with him. Perhaps his most famous act was what he did on Mt. Carmel, in his big face-off on Mt. Carmel, where he defeated the 450 prophets of Baal--a kind of 'Who's the real God?' contest. And of course, Yahweh won, and the 450 prophets of Baal did not live to tell the tale. And in the episode just prior to this story, which we heard this morning, the king of Samaria sends bands of 50 prophets to talk with Elijah, and each time they get toasted, by Elijah calling down fire from Yahweh to consume them. So you didn't want to mess with Elijah. He had, somehow, the power of God at his disposal. Enemy of the evil king Ahab and his companion Jezebel--perhaps you've heard of them? Elijah was uncompromising in his resistance to evil, and injustice, and idolatry. And so, when we think of Elijah, think Martin Luther King, or Archbishop Oscar Romero, or Mother Jones, or Gandhi.
He was a mountain of a man. And Elisha, his disciple, walked in his shadow. See, God had told Elijah that Elisha, this young man, was going to be his replacement. And that Elijah needed to go to Elisha to anoint him as the next prophet of Israel. And actually calls him in the middle of his father's field, mid-plow. He says, "You are going to be the next prophet of Israel." And we can imagine Elisha, this young man, a farmer's kid, saying, "You've got to be kidding me. Who am I to replace the great prophet of God, the miracle-worker, Elijah?" We can imagine Elisha, young disciple of Elijah, being trained in his prophetic way, standing in the shadow of Mt. Carmel, where Elijah did his greatest act as a prophet, looking up at that mountain and saying, "I'll never be able to do that! You've got to be kidding me."
What do we do when we're walking in the shadow? That's what I'd like to focus us on this morning. What do we do when we encounter that insurmountable thing that is creating a shadow in your life? Like Elisha, perhaps it's your attempt to measure up to someone who has set the bar for you--like your mother or your father or your brother or a co-worker. Or it maybe some standard that you are trying to meet in your life; some standard that seems impossible to rise to. But when you're walking in the shadow, it's when you hear voices like this: you can't; you're not good enough; you're not smart enough or strong enough, or skilled enough. Maybe the thing casting a shadow on your life is grief--you are walking in the valley of the shadow of death, to use a familiar biblical image. Maybe the shadow in which you are walking is anxiety, or addiction--that thing that somehow you are unable to overcome. So the question this morning for us to ponder, whatever that shadow might be for you in your life: what do we do when we're walking in the shadow?
And you may think that my next move here, in this sermon, is to say that the gospel exhorts us to believe this: you can overcome it. Whatever mountain is casting a shadow in your life, whatever seems insurmountable to you--you can! Maybe I should give you Bob the Builder's philosophy--Can we do it? Yes we can! Maybe I should be like Norman Vincent Peale and exhort you to positive thinking, and say, "That's the gospel. If we can just think positively, and have the right technique and discipline, then we can transcend that shadow in which we are walking." Maybe I should then give you the example of that familiar children's book that we, I'm sure, have all read: The Little Engine That Could. Remember? All the other engines refuse to do the task of taking the toys over the mountain because either they wouldn't or couldn't. And so this humble little engine says, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...." Maybe I should tell you that that's what the gospel is teaching us today--you can do it, if you just discipline your will enough.
But you know what? I hate that story--The Little Engine That Could. I'm too much of a Calvinist to have that in my house. If you have that in your house, you know, I say, "Throw it out!" You know, there was this lecture I heard a couple years ago; the lecturer said--you know those mugs that say, "I do my best, and then God does the rest?"--she said, "Throw that out! And put the verse: I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Because that's not the gospel! You know, we hear the gospel when we begin to say, in the midst of our walk in that shadow, as we face the insurmountable thing that is casting a shadow on our life...when we say, "I can't! I can't do it."
I remember when I was just entering ordination. I was ordained to a pretty large church in Brooklyn that was a big responsibility, probably way beyond my skill level at the time, and I was scared. And I said to a friend of mine, I said, "I just hope I don't mess it up--this church." And this friend said something that I'll never forget. He said, "It's not yours to mess up. It's God's church. It's not yours. Give it up." How freeing would it be if we were to say, to those mountains casting a shadow upon us, "I'm no longer going to try to climb you with my own power. I'm giving that up." How odd, to say that that's the gospel--I can't. How counter-cultural in a society that sells every manner of self-help system--Ten Techniques Toward Overcoming Your Problems. Here's the gospel: give up that whole monkey business, and say, "I can't." But then say, "There's a power, somehow, mysteriously, that works through human beings, humble and frail, like me, and you, and Elisha...that can."
Let's go back to the story, just for a minute; back to Elijah and Elisha. Because Elijah doesn't say to Elisha, as he's there following him--and there's a strange thing, too, did you notice? That Elisha is following, literally, in the shadow of Elijah--and Elijah says, "You know, stop here. You might not want to follow me. This prophetic stuff may not be for you." What's that about? You know? Elijah tells Elisha to give it up--stop following him?
I once listened to a lecture in college by the great playwright Neil Simon. And I don't remember anything he said except for his response to one question that somebody asked him. Somebody said, "What do you do to encourage young writers?" And Neil Simon said, "I don't. I don't, because writing is the hardest thing to do. And it requires that you overcome all kinds of challenges and obstacles and rejection, and if you can withstand that, and you can still be a writer, then you're really called to be a writer. So I don't encourage them." I think that same thing's going on with Elijah and Elisha. He's testing him, you know? Stay behind, it's more comfortable here with the other prophets--as he goes toward the Jordan River, and his last walk on Earth.
And then he crosses the Jordan River, he takes that mantle and divides the river, which is there in the story to show that Elijah is a figure on par with Moses...he parts the waters of the Jordan, and here's Elisha looking up at this towering figure. But Elijah doesn't say to Elisha, "You can do it." He says, instead, "What can I do for you?" And Elisha says, "I want double your spirit." And we might imagine Elisha, looking into that shadow, might say that because he feels half the man of Elijah and so needs double his spirit to measure up.
And then Elijah says to him, this strange thing, he says, "That's a hard thing to give you." Maybe he says that because he knows it's not his to give. But he says this very Zen-like, Jedi Knight kind of phrase here. And I wish I'd looked at what page it is in your pew Bible, but anyway, Elijah says, "If you can see me as I am being taken from you," in verse 10, "it will be granted to you; you will have that. But if you can't see me, then you won't." If you can see me as I leave, then you'll have that power.
That would be a good verse to meditate on--read over and over and contemplate. It's very odd. Because I think there's a sort of paradox going on in this story. What happens after that then: Elisha sees this vision of God. And the way it's represented in the story is as a chariot of fire that separates the two, and Elisha sees this apotheosis, this vision of God, and he sees Elijah...and then all of the sudden he doesn't see Elijah in that vision of light. He looks up, and no longer does he see Elijah, that one casting a shadow on his life; he sees only the light of God in that vision--the whirlwind. When he looks up, he no longer sees that thing casting a shadow. All he sees is the light of God.
And so to use the symbolism of that story--the geography of this story, its very carefully worked out choreography--I think that's a wonderful metaphor for us, when we find ourselves walking in that shadow. It's very simple, isn't it? The prescription here is, "Look up!" So often we're so fixated on that mountain, that thing that's casting the shadow--that thing that makes us think we're not good enough, not skilled enough, not competent enough....The simple lesson here is to be like Elisha, and look up. Don't look at the mountain. It's as if God is saying to Elisha, "Don't look at Elijah! He's just a man. Look at my light! That is the power that will enable you to accomplish what I have called you to." And so that day, Elisha saw a vision that transformed his life. And after it was over, he found on the ground a mantle that had been Elijah's, and was now his. And I think it's the symbol, this mantle, that signifies that the power is not his own. It comes from God. A power that enables human beings--frail, imperfect, human beings--to do miraculous things.
And Elisha did miraculous things. How does he cross back over that river, but by taking the mantle and parting the waters himself? Through the power of God working in him. He did miraculous things, but not in the Elijah way--in the Elisha way.
So...look up. And when you do, you just might see that that same kind of light that makes mountain, and shadow, and life itself, look different is shining into your eyes. And if we turn upward toward that light, we might find, indeed, that there is still a mountain, but gone is the shadow it cast. And it's likely that in such a light, that mountain does not look quite so big.
So how do we do that? To do the simple thing, of looking up? To look at the light. Well, I think probably we all know what that means for us. Maybe here's an example of what that might look like in your life. If you're having problems in your marriage, and you're fixated on fixing your spouse, maybe looking up is ceasing that, giving that up, and looking at yourself. Maybe we begin to look up and discern a glimmer of that light by getting off the treadmill of work, and taking time to practice Sabbath.
For me, looking up is the daily practice of prayer. It's my way of taking my focus off of the mountain and looking up, and getting a glimmer of that light. And I commend that to you. Spiritual practice, and the study of the Scriptures. Look up when you take the Eucharist today, and don't focus on those elements of bread and cup, but focus on the light of Christ that is present through them today. Whatever it is for you, look up when you find yourself walking in that shadow. And if you do, you might catch a glimpse of that same light that Elisha saw. That same doubt-dispelling luminescence that casts away shadows, and beckons us to walk in the light. May it be so.
Amen.
July 8, 2007
Jeff Vamos
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