Discipling Elisha

Sermon planned for Sunday, February 19^th, 2012

Text: 2 Kings 2:1-12

I remember the day I found my Elijah; the day when I met one of the main mentors in my life. I was nineteen years old and in my second year of undgrad studies at Canadian Mennonite Bible College – the year was 1999. Andrew, Andy, Kyle and me were regulars at the Perkins restaurant close to Polo Park. The four of us spent a lot of time together that year. We were all taking the same kinds of classes, reading many of the same books, and so we had lots to talk about. And then there were the other important topics that young men needed to wrestle with – careers, women & relationships, family life, etc… We grew close to one another. When one of us experienced a crisis, we all rushed in to listen, to help, and to kick-each-other into gear when it was needed.

And then, one day, after finding no common ground on some issue, we asked one of our professors to join us for coffee. We thought maybe he could help us move forward and figure things out. I didn’t think that he’d show up. He was a busy man. But as we waited at Perkins, we finally saw him come through the doors and join us at our table. That evening, the four of us developed a deep connection with this professor. His name is Harry Huebner – some of you may know him. Harry joined us that night and we had a good chat. I don’t think he fixed our problem – our disagreement – in fact, he probably muddled things up even a bit more, challenging our assumption that we had the last word on this topic.

For me, that was the beginning of a great friendship. In fact, I went to go check up on Harry this past Thursday when I was in Winnipeg. He just published his massive Introduction to Christian Ethics that he had been working on numerous years; so I figured I would go and congratulate him. But as is usually the case, I never say just one word. When I check into his office, he always invites me to sit down and have a conversation with him. “How are things in Gretna?” He’ll ask. “Do you still enjoy preaching?” or “What have you been reading lately?” “What have you been wrestling with?” “How’s Karen doing?” “Are you two still treating each other as Christians should?” With gentle care, Harry inquires into my life and shares with me pieces of his own journey.

I recall many times, during my years as youth pastor in Rosthern, that I would call him up or send him a message asking for advice in some situation. His usual approach was to gently prod me, ask me questions, and help me to find the answers in scripture – to refocus my attention on Jesus’ call of discipleship. He was (and is) my mentor – but he doesn’t pretend to have all the answers. Instead, he invites me to delve deeper in my relationship and obedience to Jesus. Harry Huebner is an Elijah-figure to me.

Two weeks ago I preached a sermon on being engaged in God’s mission. One of the key things we learned from Jesus’ own life was that this engagement requires friendship. Loneliness is a killer to discipleship. Being partners in God’s mission involves us in relationships with others, in deep and profound friendship. That Sunday I said, and I still think it holds true, that you and I are not created for loneliness. Loneliness is mixed-up in the brokenness of our world. And I really believe that God is eager to send us friends, in our journey, to help us keep moving towards Christ.

Mentorship is a form of friendship. And so I want us to continue that conversation, from two weeks ago. Mentors are a unique kind of friend that God gives us. Mentors are friends that help prod us further along the journey. They sharpen our character, as iron sharpens iron.

Who has been an Elijah-figure for you? Can you name one or two? Or, perhaps, you have been a mentor to someone else. Who has been an Elisha to you? Who have you mentored?

When I told my dad, this past Wednesday, that I was preaching on the Elijah – Elisha story, he smiled. “That’s one of my favorite stories, “ he said. It was then that I remembered the many times my dad would tell me this story, back in the day when I was a young boy. I recall the painful part of the story most – when these two great friends had to part company. It made me think about the day when I’ll have to say good bye to Harry, or some of the other mentors in my life. This thought saddens me.

And even though it is a sad story, it is also one of the most beautiful stories of scripture, in my opinion. It paints such a compelling picture of commitment and friendship – it rivals the stories of Ruth and Naomi, David and Jonathan, and Jesus and his disciples. There’s so much humanity there, so much love, and friendship.

This morning, we’re hearing the story about Elijah and Elisha as we head into the season of Lent next week. For us, this year, Lent is going to be a time where we focus on the basics of the Christian faith. We’re essentially going to be examining the themes of the Catechism but in the context of worship. We’re going to explore some of the key questions that scripture poses for us: who is God? What do we mean when we say Jesus is Lord? And what about this power living in us, that we call the Holy Spirit? Why and who do we baptize? What’s with this thing called the “Kingdom of God”? These, and many more, are questions that constantly bubble up from underneath the text of scripture. And in this season of Lent, we’re going to centre-in on this good news that we’ve received.

So how does the story of Elijah and Elisha prepare us for this Lenten journey? Well, if the story of Elijah and Elisha includes this theme of passing on the torch – passing on the mantle of ministry, of passing on the baton of faith and leadership, then this Lent we’re going to examine this faith that we’ve received – a faith that we’re called to pass onto others. Like a relay race, where the runner passes on a baton to the next runner, we have received this story of God’s good news in Christ. The baton has been passed down to us. We have the gospels in our hands. Most, if not all of you, will have at least one bible in your homes, perhaps more. We, as a congregation, have received faith and mentorship from folks before us. Many of you, will remember some of your Sunday School teacher’s names – or the pastor who led you through Catechism, the person who poured the waters over your head in baptism. Some of you can recall the names of the pastors and deacons that have served this congregation since its beginnings.

Not many of us come to faith from scratch. By that I mean, in most of our conversions, whether they are conversions that happen all of a sudden, or through the incremental passage of days, months and years, in most of your experiences you’ll be able to name people that God has put in your life; people whom God has used to prod you into the race of faith. Who are some of the folks that passed the baton of faith into your hands? Whom has God sent your way, someone that you’ve pointed towards Christ?

For Elijah, this was the young Elisha. Elisha was a farm boy, the son of a farmer named Shaphat. One day, Elijah came by and watched Elisha farm, way in the back behind the other people on the field. They were plowing the field with twelve yoke of oxen, and Elisha was on the twelfth set. I guess, after a while of watching this work, Elijah went up to Elisha and put his mantle over him.

In those days, prophets were all over the place. Many Israelite communities would have a school of prophets, including the two cities from our text – the city of Bethel and Jericho. Ezekiel was a well known prophet in these schools. I’m not sure if every prophet had a mantle, but at the very least the important major prophets would walk around with a mantle on. A mantle was most likely some kind of sheep-skin covering worn by the prophet. When the prophet placed his mantle onto Elisha’s body, it was a selection tool. I choose you, Elisha. Come and follow me! Similarly to how Jesus called the disciples to follow him, and how he told them that his yoke was light; here Elijah places his yoke, his mantle, onto Elisha, choosing him as a follower. This was the beginning of their mentor relationship. This was their Perkins restaurant at Polo Park.

Do you remember the place where you met your mentor? When did you first realize that this person was not just a regular friend… but a mentor? How did that feel? Did that relationship require some sacrifices? Did it send you on a journey?

Following Elijah meant a profound change for Elisha’s farming lifestyle. In our passage from 2 Kings, we read about the last stretch of their relationship. In this story, we can see a profound love and commitment between these two prophets, between mentor and disciple. It began with a journey from the city of Gilgal, which was just a few kilometers north of Jericho. As they travelled, the Lord instructed Elijah to travel about 15kms west into the mountains, to the city of Bethel. After Elijah told Elisha to stay back, Elisha refused. Like Ruth’s words to Naomi, Elisha made it clear that he was going to follow Elijah wherever he went.

This exact scene happened again, after they reached this mountain city, but this time they traveled 15kms east to the city of Jericho. Imagine that, you travel west for 15kms and then east the same distance… You’re basically back where you started from. Gilgal’s just a few kms north of Jericho. Elisha could have saved himself plenty of energy and time, maybe met-up with some of his pals at the local watering hole… but instead, he followed his mentor, following every footstep.

They travelled 15kms one way and then back again. That’s like digging a hole only to fill it up again. It reminds me of when I worked construction for my dad. One day I’d have to move a pile of lumber to one spot on the job site, only to have to move that same pile 50 yds further the next day, and on and on. But you know what, these kinds of repetitive tasks were part of what it meant to apprentice as a construction worker. Journeying from city to city, following your teacher’s every footstep, all this was part of what it meant to apprentice as a prophet in Israel. At times, some of the tasks must have felt useless; but these practices were part of what it meant to receive the prophet’s mantle.

The relay race analogy works well because a relay requires repetitive actions. When the team works together, when you receive the baton well, when you run your best, and pass the baton off to the next person, the idea is that you get a prize at the end. Some of the seemingly useless repetitive tasks pay off. It’s the apostle Paul that uses this same metaphor for the Christian journey. In 1 Corinthians 9:24 he writes, “Do you not know that in a race the runners all compete, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may win it.” And then in Philippians 3:14 he says that his journey is all about pushing himself towards the goal – the prize of the heavenly call of God in Jesus Christ.

Elijah had run the race well. He had proclaimed God’s Word to the people. He had been a faithful servant of God’s will. He ran the race well. In the Corinthians passage it almost sounds like Paul wants us to focus only on our own race. Run the race in such a way that you may win it. Maybe this is where part of the analogy breaks down. You and I are not competing against each other in the race of faith. Like Elisha, we’re receiving the baton from those who are ahead of us; and like Elijah, we become mentors to others and give them our mantel. That’s why I like the Philippian passage. Here Paul says that the prize of the race is the call we have received. That’s right – the prize isn’t gold… it isn’t fame. The prize is the calling we have received.

Think about it: God – the Captain of our Life, the Giver of Life, the Commander and Chief, the Lord of Lords and King of Kings – this God has given each one of you a calling: follow Jesus! Come, and follow Jesus and make disciples. It is a call to follow and also a call to mentorship.

I love how the Methodists describe the journey of discipleship. They way I heard it put is that each disciple has someone in front of them, pulling and pointing them towards Jesus. This person is your mentor. But each disciple also has someone that God has given to them, a person behind them in the journey, someone that they’re called to pull and prod towards Jesus. This person is your ‘disciple’ you could say… or he is a disciple of Christ, whom God has given to you to mentor towards Jesus. In other words, if you’re only focusing on your own calling in life… your own place in the race, your own journey of discipleship, you’ve really only got half the picture. Why? Because being a disciple is always already about being a mentor to others.

Being a disciple is an Elijah-Elisha journey. The disciples of Jesus had a similar experience, and we can read about it in the story of the Ascension in the book of Acts. We can also read about this handing-of-the-baton in Matthew 28:16-20:

Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. And Jesus came and said to them, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age."

The journey of discipleship that we’re on involves us in this two-fold path. We are those who have received the faith of our ancestors. Who gave you your first bible? Who taught you to pray? Who challenged you with the harder questions that scripture puts before us? Give thanks to God for these faithful runners who knew not only how to follow Jesus, but also how to prod you towards him. And then there’s the second part of our discipleship: receiving those whom God puts in our lives, people we’ve been called to mentor, to invite, to prod, and encourage in their journey towards Jesus.

Look around you, this morning, in this congregation: who is mentoring you? And whom are you called to mentor? Take up your mantle and join me in this Elijah-Elisha journey where we celebrate not only the faith we’ve received, but also the faith that is ours to freely share with courage, joy and love. Amen.