Leaving With Imagination
June 27, 2010
1Now when the Lord was about to take Elijah up to heaven by a whirlwind, Elijah and Elisha were on their way from Gilgal. 2Elijah said to Elisha, “Stay here; for the Lord has sent me as far as Bethel.” But Elisha said, “As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you.” So they went down to Bethel. 3The company of prophets who were in Bethel came out to Elisha, and said to him, “Do you know that today the Lord will take your master away from you?” And he said, “Yes, I know; keep silent.” 4Elijah said to him, “Elisha, stay here; for the Lord has sent me to Jericho.” But he said, “As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you.” So they came to Jericho. 5The company of prophets who were at Jericho drew near to Elisha, and said to him, “Do you know that today the Lord will take your master away from you?” And he answered, “Yes, I know; be silent.” 6Then Elijah said to him, “Stay here; for the Lord has sent me to the Jordan.” But he said, “As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you.” So the two of them went on. 7Fifty men of the company of prophets also went, and stood at some distance from them, as they both were standing by the Jordan. 8Then Elijah took his mantle and rolled it up, and struck the water; the water was parted to the one side and to the other, until the two of them crossed on dry ground.
9When they had crossed, Elijah said to Elisha, “Tell me what I may do for you, before I am taken from you.” Elisha said, “Please let me inherit a double share of your spirit.” 10He responded, “You have asked a hard thing; yet, if you see me as I am being taken from you, it will be granted you; if not, it will not.” 11As they continued walking and talking, a chariot of fire and horses of fire separated the two of them, and Elijah ascended in a whirlwind into heaven. 12Elisha kept watching and crying out, “Father, father! The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!” But when he could no longer see him, he grasped his own clothes and tore them in two pieces.
13He picked up the mantle of Elijah that had fallen from him, and went back and stood on the bank of the Jordan. 14He took the mantle of Elijah that had fallen from him, and struck the water, saying, “Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?” When he had struck the water, the water was parted to the one side and to the other, and Elisha went over.
II Kings 2:1-14
In Japan, they say sayonara. In Russia, they say dosvydonya. In Douglasville, Georgia, they say, “See y’all later.” But no matter how you say it, it means the same thing in every language—goodbye. It’s one of the most universal expressions in human speech and, for that reason, it’s one of the very first words we learn. Try as we might, Molly and I have yet to get Amos to say mama or dada on cue. He’ll just randomly babble it sometimes, but never on purpose. However, Amos does have one real word in his vocabulary—Byyyyye! He’s only 15 months old. He can’t even pronounce his own name. But Amos already knows how to say goodbye.
What that tells me is that we humans have to say goodbye a lot in this world. We may learn the word when we’re very young, but saying goodbye is something that we have to practice over the years because it’s not always easy to do. And maybe one of the reasons we learn that word so early is because saying goodbye actually grows harder, the older we get. Have y’all ever noticed that? At first, we’re just waving bye-bye to mommy and daddy. But then it becomes mommy and daddy and brother and sister and the dog and our relatives and our friends. And then we get a little older and our world expands some more, and we have to say goodbye to our home as we go to school for the first time and then we have to say goodbye to our childhood as we graduate and then we have to say goodbye to a job as we retire and eventually after many long years of saying it, we are forced to say goodbye to life itself. So, there’s something to that idea, that even when we are very young, we are already preparing ourselves for the goodbyes to come.
In our passage of Scripture today, the prophet Elijah is getting ready to say goodbye. Over the last few weeks, you and I have looked at some of the more incredible moments of Elijah’s life. We watched as he first came on the scene and challenged Ahab; we listened as he experienced God in the sound of silence, and we were stirred as he spoke out against injustice. But here in 2nd Kings, Chapter 2, after many years of prophetic ministry, Elijah is getting to ready to leave. And just as we have learned from Elijah’s example the past few weeks, I think we have something more to learn today from the way Elijah says goodbye. Because while there are many different ways to say goodbye, I think this passage makes it clear that some ways are better than others.
The text begins with the acknowledgment of Elijah’s impending departure. Verse 1 says, “Now when the Lord was about to take Elijah up to heaven by a whirlwind.” And, of course, we know that this is the passage from which we get the old spiritual, “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” It is a dramatic story to say the least. And other than Enoch who is mentioned over in Genesis Chapter 5, Elijah is the only person in the Old Testament who ascends to heaven without dying first.
So, this was a pretty significant event. Elijah knew what was coming. He knew that his time on Earth was growing short. And I think one thing that you and I can learn from this passage is that a good prophet knows when it is time to leave. A good prophet knows when it is time to leave.
Three weeks ago, I told you that just because you and I have never felt particularly prophetic before doesn’t mean that there won’t come a time when God calls us to that work. Because that’s the way it happens. Unlikely prophets are called all the time—think about Moses, think about Jeremiah, think about Jonah. Prophets are called in the moment. They are called to address a certain time and place, a specific situation. But when that prophetic work is done, a prophet has to know how to say goodbye.
Now, that’s not the same thing as calling it quits. Some of us in here this morning have yet to learn that lesson. Some of us in here think that saying goodbye is the same thing as giving up. But it’s not. When we have done as God directed us to do and the job is over, we are supposed to say goodbye.
And when we don’t, it points us back to the old horse I’ve been beating these past few weeks, which is our failure of imagination. I’ve been using that word imagination a whole lot. And I want to stop here for just a moment to make sure that everybody’s clear about what I mean when I use that word. To me, the word imagination is almost synonymous with the word faith. And I want to clarify that because ever since I’ve started preaching this series of sermons, I’ve heard some comments that seem as if people equate having an imagination with being childish. Some folks apparently think that imagination is about pretending or about believing in something that doesn’t really exist. And so, when they hear me using that word, they think that I’m asking us to engage in wishful thinking or to live in some kind of fantasy world.
Believe me when I say--Nothing could be further from the truth. To me, imagination is not pretending and it’s not believing in something that doesn’t exist. On the contrary, imagination is believing in something that does exist; it’s just something that’s hard for us to see. Imagination is believing in the alternate reality of the kingdom of God, the kingdom where peace and justice and love will ultimately prevail. And the reason you and I believe that is not because we just make it up, but because we have faith in God that it is true.
So, to have an imagination means that we have to be capable of turning the future over to God. And when you and I refuse to say goodbye, it’s usually because we are putting too much faith in ourselves and not enough faith in God. Without imagination, we don’t think we can leave because we don’t think that God can do it without us. We buy into the lie that we are indispensable. It’s a kind of narrow-minded arrogance.
And boy, oh boy, does it happen a lot—particularly in the church. We don’t want to say goodbye because we want to cling to that glorious past. Just like Elijah, we remember all of our fabulous exploits and all the ways that God has used us over the years and we want to stay in that moment forever. And so, we begin to come up with excuses. “Well, I can’t leave now—I’ve still got too much work left to do. I can’t leave now—I’ve just gotten started. I can’t leave now—people will think I’m giving up.”
Sound familiar? Learning how to leave well is not easy. Just think about all the churches, and there are quite a few in our area, that have had the same pastor for a thousand years. I think that most of those pastors are probably well-meaning folks, but they have not yet grasped the essential lesson of learning how to leave with imagination. It’s so scary for them to think about what might happen when they leave, they just stay stuck in the same place.
And we do the same thing all the time. We struggle with saying goodbye because we cannot imagine life any differently. How many individuals refuse to leave their homes and let their families give them the proper end-of-life care, because they are stubbornly clinging to a past that has long since evaporated? How many folks refuse to leave a relationship that they know is harmful and destructive, because it’s just easier to stay where they are? It’s a failure of imagination.
And we do the same thing in our churches. When we have a failure of imagination in church about knowing when to leave, we are putting the emphasis in the wrong place. We are confusing the lower case-c church with the capital-C Church. And it happens quite often. We get so obsessed with our own little world here on the corner of Hatton and Crawford Streets that we forget we are a part of a larger story. We forget that there was a time before Park View Baptist Church, and that there will be a time after Park View Baptist Church.
But because it’s all we’ve ever known, we cling to it. You and I have trouble envisioning anything beyond the present reality. And we are so fearful of change that we often refuse to leave, even when our prophetic work is done.
In this passage of Scripture, Elijah could have done the same thing. Elijah could have pleaded with God to let him continue his ministry for another 20 years. Elijah could have said, “I’ve still got so much left to do! I’ve still got so many kings to confront and so much injustice to fight! If only I had a little more time.”
But that’s not what Elijah did. And I think that was because Elijah had some imagination. Elijah had faith that God’s story would continue even without him. And Elijah had that confidence because he had done his job of training the next generation.
That’s the other lesson I think we can learn from this passage of Scripture. You and I will know when it is time to leave, when we do our job of passing on the prophetic vision to the ones who will follow us. You see, all along the way, Elijah had been preparing Elisha to take over his job. Elijah was mentoring, training, teaching, so that when the time came for God to call Elijah home, the prophetic ministry would continue. And I think one of the questions that you and I need to ask as we examine our passage of Scripture this morning is—Who will pick up our mantle when we say goodbye? Have we been mentoring and training and teaching so that the next generation will be able to pick up where we leave off?
Because I’m afraid that we’re not always thinking that far ahead. It goes back to our ego again. We don’t want to say goodbye because we don’t want anybody else to get credit for our hard work. In this story, after Elijah leaves, Elisha receives a double portion of his Spirit. And that just seems unfair, doesn’t it? Why should the people who come after us get to reap all the benefits of what we’ve done? After all, it’s our money. It’s our blood, sweat, and tears. And so, we cling to it. We refuse to let it go. We think the kingdom of God belongs to us.
It just demonstrates once again how unimaginative we really are. Because if we had any imagination or any faith in the future, we would understand that it’s never been about us. In the kingdom of God, no person is indispensable, not even the prophet Elijah. Prophets come and go, but the work of God continues across all time and places. And if you and I do our job really well, there may come a time when we aren’t remembered at all.
I think that’s what happened with John the Baptist. I think that before Jesus arrived on the scene, John the Baptist was probably the most popular preacher in all of Israel. But we don’t talk that much about John the Baptist anymore—Why? Because he did his job so well. John came to prepare the way for another. And John had the prophetic imagination to see that he was just one small part of a much larger story that would continue long after he was gone.
Sometimes, I think that you and I resist leaving when we should because we are afraid that we will be forgotten. And that’s a common human fear. We worry that all of our accomplishments and achievements in life will come to naught. But that’s when we must have the imagination to see that the reality of God’s kingdom continues even when our small part of the story has passed away. And that’s the gospel, folks. That’s the good news—The reality that death is not the end. The reality that if you and I are faithful, God will use what we have done to accomplish his purposes.
And I think we have to keep that in mind as we look to the next generation— Do we want people to remember Park View Baptist Church or do we want people to remember Christ? Are we trying to get people to come to Park View Baptist Church or we are trying to get people to come to Christ? We must have the imagination to remember that we as God’s prophets are only a means to an end, not the end itself. And without that imagination, we will never be ready to leave, because we will never be able to entrust our future into the hands of God.
Some of you in here this morning are probably thinking that I’m saying Park View is through. But I’m not. Only God can say when we’re through. We may go tomorrow in a chariot of fire or we may go 100 years from now. But I do think we should be listening faithfully so that whenever that call comes, we will be prepared to leave well.
I would also guess that some of you in here this morning are thinking that with a sermon like the one I just preached, I am getting ready to announce that I’m leaving Park View Baptist Church. But I’m not. For those of you who have been waiting in eager anticipation for that moment, I hate to disappoint you; you’ll have to wait a while longer. That is not what I intend to do today.
However, sooner or later, that day will come. And when it comes, I need to remember, and you need to remember, that the work of God has been going on since long before I arrived here on the scene. And the work of God will continue long after I have departed the scene. That is the good news of the gospel, that while we play some small role in the here and now, God is directing the larger story. And in the meantime, it is up to us to train the next generation, so that they will be ready to pick up the mantle when it is time for us to leave.
The text says that when it came time for Elijah to leave, he asked Elisha what he could do for him. And Elisha asked for a double portion of his spirit. It was such an audacious request that Elijah could not immediately grant it. But this is what Elijah says, down in verse 10, “You have asked a hard thing; yet, if you see me as I am being taken from you, it will be granted you; if not, it will not.”
Isn’t that a nifty idea? It was the ultimate test of whether or not Elijah had really been successful as a prophet. Because if Elisha could see the same vision as Elijah, then it meant that Elijah really was ready to say goodbye. If Elisha could see the same vision as Elijah, then Elisha’s wish would be granted and he would carry on the prophetic work of God.
And I think that is the same challenge being issued to us today. You and I are being called to see that same vision so that we can carry on the prophetic work of God. Over the past few weeks, as we have looked at these Elijah stories together, I hope that we have wrestled with the idea of what it really means to be a prophet. And I hope we’ve learned that prophets can do more than one thing—some prophets are called to speak, some are called to listen, and some are called to leave. But the thing that connects it all is our imagination. It is our imagination that allows us to see the world as God sees it, and to share that vision as faithfully as we can, so that whenever our particular work is done, we can simply say goodbye. AMEN
