II Kings 2:13-18
A short but classic book by Max DePree, Leadership Is an Art, closes with this story:
“The noted English architect Sir Christopher Wren once built a structure in London. His employers claimed that a certain span Wren planned was too wide, that he would need another row of columns for support. Sir Christopher, after some discussion, acquiesced. He added the row of columns, but he left a space between the unnecessary columns and the beams above.
The worthies of London could not see this space from the ground. To this day, the beam has not sagged. The columns still stand firm, supporting nothing but Wren’s conviction.
Leadership is much more an art, a belief, a condition of the heart, than a set of things to do. The visible signs of artful leadership are expressed, ultimately, in its practice.”[1]
It seems to me that Christopher Wren and the prophet Elisha were cut from the same cloth. Both had enough confidence to listen to others and yet stick to what they knew to a certainty in the face of other people’s doubts. There was at least one difference, though. Wren kept quiet about things and let the others think they knew better than he did. Elisha couldn’t help saying, in at least one case “I told you so.”
Maybe it was best that Elisha allowed the people who questioned what had happened to Elijah to look for themselves. There are always going to be people who for one reason or another do not accept somebody’s account of extraordinary events. It makes sense not only to allow but even to ensure that there is a strong system of verification to answer the objections of those who would deny what others identify as fact. When General Eisenhower saw the concentration camps his troops were liberating and realized the depth of evil that had ruled them and the depravity committed against the prisoners, he ordered his men to go and see for themselves. He said,
“Get it all on record now - get the films - get the witnesses -because somewhere down the road of history some [fill in the blank] will get up and say that this never happened.”[2]
Sadly, he was right. But the films and the stories persist to bear witness to the ugly truth, even when those who would perpetuate hatred say otherwise.
Elijah’s disappearance does not fit that category, but those who did not at first take Elisha’s account as complete may have had their own reasons for reluctance. It can be hard to let go of the good that you have known in the past to reach toward another, uncertain good yet to come. Sure, Elisha is a worthy prophet himself, they might think – they did show him honor when he returned from seeing Elijah off, and they did recognize that he crossed the Jordan by means of a miracle. But, really, would he ever measure up to Elijah?
I do not care what you say; Justin Bieber will never rise to the level of Billy Joel, and it is ridiculous to put the names Taylor Swift and Stevie Nicks in the same sentence.
Was it possible that the fiery chariot sent by the Lord to collect Elijah left him off someplace? Sure, it was possible. But what lies behind the search is a desire to hang onto the way things have been lest they descend to something less. That happens, you know.
The United Methodist Church has been going through some troubling times lately. This [picture projected on the screen] is the delegation that went from Eastern Pennsylvania to the special General Conference held in April of this year to try to move things forward and break the log jams we’ve created. One of them was ordained the same day I was. One of them is married to an old friend ordained the same day I was. One of them I have known since she was in high school. One of them I have worked with in various ways since 1998. I babysat the youngest children of another. This month we elected a new delegation for the regular General Conference in 2020 that will have to consider the fallout from 2019, and for the Jurisdictional Conference that will meet next summer to elect bishops for the Northeast. All but two of the people in this picture are gone.
Of the delegates who are coming on, not one is over 40, which is especially interesting considering that, according to a study by the Pew Research Center,
“the share of U.S. adults under age 40 who identify with a religious group is 17 percentage points lower than the share of older adults who are religiously affiliated.”[3]
So, here are these under-forties who are not only religiously affiliated, but whose commitments have led them, both clergy and laity, into religious leadership. Who better than they to look seriously at the situation of their peers? Who better to understand the word of the Lord for the coming days? What greater support could someone like me offer than to say, “I’ll be over here for now. If you need me, just holler,” and then to stay out of the way?
Not that that’s easy for everybody, and I include myself. I understand the way that Christopher Wren’s uninvited supervisors must have felt. In Allentown, I helped one of my churches to get a young adults’ ministry started. It wasn’t huge, but it brought a dozen or so people together in meaningful ways. Yes, it began with bowling and movie nights, but they broadened out into some wonderful discussions on deep matters. That was about when the person who had really done most of the hard work came to me and said, “How are we defining ‘young adults’?” And I said that it generally meant people between about twenty and thirty-five years old. And she said, “Your birthday is coming up soon, isn’t it?” She and her husband really loved to throw cookouts and were always looking for an occasion, so I was feeling pretty good until she said, “You’re going to be thirty-seven, aren’t you?” (Yeah, well you’re forty-seven now, Michelle!)
I am not saying to push us oldsters out of the way. I am not saying anyone gets to retire from discipleship until the Lord calls them home. Nor am I saying that the leadership God calls is all younger than forty, or ninety, for that matter. I am saying that it’s a big mistake (but one familiar even from the days of the kings of ancient Israel) to discount someone for inexperience. The goals that the Lord sets out for his people do not change, but the best methods of working them out may shift and sometimes a new perspective is not just helpful, but necessary and it’s important to know when to step back.
Elijah was a great man. And when it was time, God sent a chariot of fire to take him out of the way, so that Elisha could continue what Elijah had begun. The work that they achieved together has outlasted them both.
[1] Max DePree, Leadership Is an Art (New York: Dell Publishing, 1989), 147-148.
[3] “The Age Gap in Religion around the World” https://www.pewforum.org/2018/06/13/the-age-gap-in-religion-around-the-world/
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