Delivered on Sunday 27 June, 2010
by Rev Dr John Evans
2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14
Psalm 77:1-2, 11-20
Galatians 5:1, 13-25
Luke 9:51-62
What a week. . . or was it just a matter of hours.
Last week we saw a transferring of the mantle of authority and leadership from Kevin Rudd to Julia Gillard in a way perhaps no more mysterious and mystical as that between Elijah and Elisha. Chariots of fire and being whirled up into the heavens is no more unfathomable than how the Australian Labor Party changes its leaders! However, it happened – the mantle is passed. We have a new prime minister, the first ever female prime minister.
I want however, this morning not look at how leadership changes – but the related question of how our work, our life, our life’s work, is remembered.
Last Thursday (24.June, 2010) I was amazed that the ink was barely dry on the commission for Julia Gillard to be prime minister and the media were analysing the legacy of Kevin Rudd. The man is still alive – though perhaps politically dead – and the question is now being asked, how will he be remembered? Of course, it is absurd to even speculate on such matters of how he is to be remembered at this time – so soon after his demise, however, it is a basic human question. Perhaps this is the basic question which drives all of us. How will someone be remembered when they go? How will we all be remembered when we die? . . . she was a good woman; a fine man … whatever.
I would like to suggest that there is no one among us here this morning who have not pondered that question. In our down or more depressed moments we will consider - who will come to my funeral; what will be said and done. How will I be remembered? Some of us even desire to plan such events in the minutest detail – while we are still alive. And it is true, we all wish to be remembered. . . and remembered well. I think, we all at least have that much ego. And I think we all aspire to that goal, the world is a better place because we have lived. The saddest thing a minister can do is in fact conduct a funeral to which no one comes – no family, no friends. There is just the undertaker and the minister. . . and of course, a life held out and remembered before God.
The legacy of Elijah was very significant to the writer of this great sweep of Jewish history we have in our Old Testament lesson; that sweep of which 1 and 2 Kings is just a part. As I have suggested a couple of weeks ago – this history was set down by, who scholars now call, the Deuteronomistic historian many centuries later. This history in turn was written when the nature of God’s interaction with the Jewish people and the nation needed to be recalled. Where did the Jewish people go wrong; what was the role of Yahweh during this time, and what of the future? So, for example, when the people had been carried off into exile to Babylon – what could an they discern and learn from their past story? So their story was recorded.
The story of Elijah was important. He was faithful to the Lord as a prophet. He held up the covenant and the worship of Yahweh to the northern kingdom of Israel’s rulers Ahab, and his wife, Jezebel. For his troubles he was persecuted and as scripture records, Elijah says
“I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.” (1 Kings 19:10)
Elijah almost throws it in. However, after his mountain top experience on Mount Sinai, also known as Mt Horeb – the holy mountain – he discerns God speaking to him – not in the wind, earthquake and fire – but in the “sound” of sheer silence – to continue his prophetic task.
This was a story for the Jewish people that in fact the continuing worship of Yahweh and understanding of the covenant had once been in the balance. It all remained only by a thread. Only one prophet left. And yet Elijah continued – and he and his disciple, Elisha, and those whom Elijah was able to gather around him continued – kept the rumour of God alive. In this context the mantle was passed from Elijah to Elisha.
Listening then to this story hundreds of years later, or for us, thousands of years later, we are reminded that the message and knowledge of Yahweh can hang in the balance, even down to God’s last messenger – but there will be raised up another to take on the task. Thus the faithfulness of those who yearn to be true to the God of Israel is affirmed and given direction by
the very God whom the faithful seek to follow. God does not abandon God’s people in the times of their need. The mantle of Elijah is passed to Elisha. The story continues.
To the hearers of this story it would have been a story of great hope and promise – and yet also one of challenge. Hope – God is present. Challenge – what will be our legacy? Is our legacy one in which those who come after us will know God and the way of Christ?
Surely this is the question which has always been asked by the church, but in these times, now has a poignancy and an edge to it. Will our children, and our children’s children, know the love of God, and the hope in Christ?
At the recent synod meeting – as you can gather by my constant reference to this synod, it was a significant synod meeting – the usual tribute service and recognition of ministry was held. Ministers who had died between synods were particularly remembered. Those who had reached milestones since their ordination – say 50 years, 60 years, even 70 years, were acknowledged and honoured. A response is then given by one of those ministers who has been remembered. This year the response was given by Norman Young, a retired professor and principal from the Theological Hall. He recently marked the 50th anniversary of his ordination. Norman Young dared to raise this question – will his life’s work have been in vain; what would be his legacy? How should he view what he has done, being a person who has followed Christ, a person who had given his life to serving the church. Should he despair? For example, there were 28 ministers who had died since the last synod; and there were 29 ministers who had retired, and yet, coming in at the other end, there had only been 17 ministers who had been ordained.
Norman Young could have well pointed to this Old Testament passage that says God will continue to support his faithful people – even though at times only Elijah remained. Indeed as we pray at an ordination:
“Almighty God, Lord of the world,
We bless you for calling us into the community of your universal church.
We praise you that in every generation you have given ordained ministers to your church
that your people may be nourished in faith and equipped for service.”
Instead he referred to the book of Hebrews and the image of a relay race - that we are not alone, we are not individually responsible. Others are with us and have a part to play, and at the end of the day it is God’s mission we all are engaged in after all.
In this anniversary year, such questions about what the future will look like, are prominent for us. We have acknowledged that our life today has been built on the shoulders of giants and their legacy. But what, in turn, will be our legacy? Of course the answer is – God only knows. God will be faithful as he was with Elijah. His mantle was passed on. But I hope this doesn’t mean we just acquiesce and not offer our response to God’s grace and love.
Perhaps our gospel reading is relevant here.
This is one of those “hinge passages” – points around which the whole thrust and direction of St Luke’s gospel account turns. In particular, Luke 9:51 says
“When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.”
And this is only the 9th chapter out of 24! However, Jesus’ death on the cross is already clearly in view. This overshadows now, his life and ministry. There is all of a sudden an end point to his journeying. He now moves from his ministry around Galilee – and he sets his face to go to Jerusalem, to his death. He has a goal.
Here is a simple and obvious thing to note about our legacy – or here, the legacy of Jesus. His legacy is framed by this earthly goal in his journeying. Christ’s legacy was to be his love shown on the cross. Aimlessness inspires no one. Lack of purpose and self understanding will achieve nothing. And the same applies to Christ’s followers. Without a goal in life, our legacy in death will amount to nothing. However, we, CAN, need to be careful – and not be obsessed with just having the mission statement, and doing the strategic planning thing. In our gospel reading, a village of the Samaritans did not accept Jesus. The village offended against what the disciples now saw as their goal. The disciples wanted it destroyed! However, Jesus made it clear, this village’s non acceptance is not reason to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them. When people do not agree with us; when our desire to impress on people our view, and they see it differently, this is not justification for us to rebuke them – and even worse, wish them ill. Jesus makes it clear – this is not his way. Just quietly move on. This is however, not to say we should be luke warm in our own response to Christ. The little vignettes of people who indicate their desire to follow him, but at the end of the day find other priorities like: burying their father, or saying farewell to folk back at home and the like, illustrate commitment is required. This following Jesus is serious stuff. It is however, following Jesus – not the pet projects of a religious leader or a requirement of the church. The commitment is to Christ and the kingdom of God.
So as we have fresh in our mind the amazing, certainly brutal transition of our national leadership – it is appropriate to think of transferring our mantle for the life of the church. However, at the end of the day there is of course a larger story going on – than just us here in the place and this time say at CAN , or even beside the Jordan River all those years ago. . As God showed with Elijah and Elisha – the message will continue; the mission of God goes on – though we do have our part to play.
