(This was a homily I preached on 11/2/17 for my Preaching class at Eden to my seminary classmates)
Focus Scripture: 2 Kings 2:1-15
We are gathered together this morning on the
feast of All Souls, which is a day for many in the Christian community to
remember the great cloud of witnesses who accompany us and continue to inspire
us in the life we live and the work that we do as faith leaders. It is a day to reflect on our loved ones who
have passed from this life, and yet continue to live on through the ways they
touched our own life.
It is a perfect day to reflect on this
passage from 2 Kings – a journey of a student accompanying his beloved teacher
as he prepares to leave this world, and then trying to figure out, – well now
what? I invite us to engage with this
story of Elisha and Elijah today as a way to also reflect on our own mentors,
teachers, and loved ones who we have accompanied, bid farewell to, and remember
now on this Feast of All Souls.
Our Scripture passage begins with this
dynamic of accompaniment and farewell. Throughout
the life and ministry of Elijah, he has established these schools of prophets
throughout the region, which he is now visiting one last time as he prepares to
ascend into heaven. Accompanying Elijah
on this journey is one particular, chosen and beloved student: Elisha. In each town they visit on this farewell tour,
Elijah tells Elisha to stay behind, and he refuses. The prophets in each town tell Elisha what he
already knows, Elijah’s time is drawing to a close and he will soon be taken
from him. He doesn’t want to hear this,
or be reminded, he just wants to spend as much time as possible with his
beloved mentor and friend.
Perhaps you can relate to this dynamic
of accompaniment and farewell, of not wanting to let go or say goodbye to a
loved one. Even as you know that their
time is coming to an end, when others around you remind you that their days or
hours are numbered you just want to shout back, like Elisha, “Shut up! I know!
Just let me be.”
I saw this dynamic play out when my
grandma was dying. It was obvious when
she was getting close and her body was starting to shut down. My grandpa continued to lovingly accompany
her and care for her until she took her last breath. In those final months he
didn’t want to hear from those of us who would remind him of what he already
knew was going to happen, he didn’t want to waste any time preparing for the
inevitable, he just wanted to spend every minute he could with the love of his
life.
And then whether we want it to or not, that
moment finally comes. We are separated
from the one we love and look up to. And
even though we knew it was coming, it is still so incredibly hard to let go. Our friend, our teacher, our family member,
our beloved – is gone. What are we to do
now?
When Elijah is carried up into heaven, Elisha
responds with a great shout and tears his clothes in two – a symbol of deep,
profound grief in the ancient world.
While the Scripture doesn’t clearly communicate how much time Elisha
spent in that spot where he last saw Elijah, I imagine him being so overwhelmed
that he stays there for a good while, sobbing, shouting, not knowing what will
happen now and not wanting to move on too soon.
Eventually he does get up, and picks up
what is left behind of his beloved friend and mentor: the mantle. What a perfect symbol right? He literally picks up the mantel of the one
who has gone before him, and returns to the water’s edge where Elijah with
God’s help had parted the waters to allow safe passage. He’s now alone and not sure what will happen.
You see Elisha knew and felt that God was present in and through the life of
Elijah, and now that Elijah is gone, there is a question – has God left as
well? In this moment of anxiety and uncertainty he cries out: Where is the
Lord, the God of Elijah?
Do we not also ask this question when we
experience great pain or loss? When we
have to say goodbye to someone that we love?
Where is this good and loving God who is supposed to protect us and
never leave us? Where is the Spirit of
God that was so active and present in the life of our loved one, which we
experienced in relationship with them?
Elisha’s question is answered in the
parting of the waters. The same Spirit
of God that was with Moses in the parting of the Red Sea, the same Spirit of
God that was with Elijah in parting the Jordan, now rests with Elisha as he crosses
through the parted waters, returning to the company of the prophets who can see
this truth and proclaim: “The spirit of Elijah rests on Elisha.” God hadn’t left, just because Elijah had
departed. God was still here with Elisha,
ready to accompany him as he carries on God’s prophetic and healing work in the
world.
I hope and pray that you receive the
same blessed assurance as Elisha when you cry out to God in moments of grief
and despair – and know that God is
here. The life giving Spirit of God does
not stop its prophetic work in the world when there is a death. The life giving Spirit of God continues its
work through you, and you, and me as we pick up the mantles of the prophets who
have gone before us and continue their work in the world.
I experienced this truth in a deep and
profound way during the five months I lived in the beautiful country of El
Salvador. Archbishop Oscar Romero was a
priest and prophet of God for the Salvadoran people, speaking out against the
corruption, injustice, and violence of the State on behalf of the poor. He was assassinated for this prophetic work
by a military death squad while celebrating the Eucharist on March 24,
1980.
You see, the government thought that
they could stop the prophetic work of God in the world, by killing God’s
prophet. But they were so wrong. Archbishop Romero said before he died, “If
they kill me, I will arise again in the Salvadoran people.” And he did.
I encountered his Spirit in the lives of the Salvadorans I had the
privilege to know, who not only keep his memory alive but continue his
prophetic work in the world for peace and justice on behalf of the poor.
I am reminded of another of God’s
prophets, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who was assassinated on April 4,
1968. The powers of white supremacy
thought they could silence God’s prophetic voice and stop God’s prophetic work
for justice and racial equity by tearing down one of its prophets. But they too were so wrong. Because the life giving Spirit of God does
not stop its prophetic work in the world when there is a death. There are those who pick up the mantles left
behind, go out to the water’s edge, cry out to God, and find safe passage to
continue the work until the time comes to pass on the mantle to another.
Perhaps this doesn’t look so dramatic or
public in our own lives.
Perhaps we are reassured of the presence of
God’s loving and liberating spirit when we offer the same kind of radical
hospitality and loving attention that we were taught by a beloved
grandparent.
Or when we step into this seminary journey
knowing that we are continuing the family business of Christian ministry,
started by our dearly departed ancestors.
Or maybe it looks like the inexplicable
sense of courage and conviction that arises out on the streets, linked arm in
arm, shouting “Free Our People,” knowing that Jesus is here, Moses is here,
Romero is here, King is here.
God’s life giving, liberating Spirit is
here. We do not walk alone, even when we
say goodbye.
On this feast of All Souls, I invite us to
close by speaking out loud the names of our departed prophets and loved ones in
confidence that the Spirit of God which flowed through them and touched our
lives, continues to flow through us as we continue and expand their work. After each name please say together in
confidence and affirmation: Present!
(Since this was part of a class assignment, it was also filmed. If you would like to watch the video of the Scripture passage being read as well as the homily preached follow this link: https://youtu.be/NbNMGtVey3Q)
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