SEEING WHAT CANNOT BE SEEN
"Are there no things---I mean things---but what we see?"
--C. S. Lewis
Elijah was getting "old and timey," as my grandkids used
to say.
Life had taken away his youth, but God had given in exchange great calm
and truth. The prophet's zeal for holiness had been tempered through the
years by suffering and deep reflection. Wisdom had softened his face. Now,
at the end of his career, he was given a time of comparative calm in which
to entrust to others what God had entrusted to him.
"Time hath a taming hand," John Newton said. Age breaks down our
energy and strength and prevents us from too much activity. We have more
time for contemplation and prayer. As we draw nearer to things to come,
things present lose their grip on us. We're more inclined to lean on God.
His nearness rubs off on us; we reflect more of his invisible presence.
In time our influence takes on a peculiar power. Tested character and God-ripened
experience has a seasoned vitality and vision that busier youth cannot have.
"The older a man is," said Henry Durbanville, "the better
he is---the broader his vision, the saner and wiser his outlook, the more
mature his opinions."
Not all old-timers are wise, of course. There are wise old folks
and there are wicked old folks and some folks just get to be old fools.
But since all knowledge, wisdom, and character is cumulative, it follows
that those who have loved the Savior and walked with him through time will
reach maturity rich in their understanding of God and wise in his ways.
"Old men ought to be explorers," T. S. Eliot said. Getting older
doesn't mean becoming obsolete. It can mean growing, maturing, serving,
ministering, venturing, enjoying ourselves to the end of our days. "Have
a blast while you last," as a friend of mine says.
To idle away our last years is to rob ourselves of the best years of our
lives---and rob the church of one of the choicest gifts which God has given
to enrich it. He still sends his servants into the marketplace in the eleventh
hour. There is still service to be rendered, battles to be fought, and victories
to be won. Even when "old and gray," we can declare "God's
power to the next generation, his might to all who are to come" (Psalm
71:18).
Older folks may not have the energy or inclination for leadership, but they
are an invaluable asset to the next generation of leaders. They should be
on tap, not on top. There comes a time when our greatest usefulness is passing
on our understanding to others.
Wesley was asked once what he would do if he knew he had only a short time
to live: "I should meet with my preachers," he said, "till
the moment came that I was called to yield my spirit back to Him that gave
it."
Elijah, a kindred soul, met with his preachers in the schools established
at Bethel, Gilgal, and Jericho---places of light and learning---and spent
his last days nurturing them. These young men were the so-called "sons
of the prophets." Elijah, like the abbot of a Medieval monastery, was
their "father" (2 Kings 2:12).
Of all Elijah's "sons," Elisha was closest to his father. Hand-picked
by the older man, his relationship with Elijah went all the way back to
Sinai.
At Sinai God had given Elijah three assignments: to anoint Hazael king of
Syria, Jehu, king of Israel, and Elisha, as his prophetic successor. Hazael,
Jehu, and Elisha combined their efforts to bring Ahab and Jezebel to their
knees; they finished the work Elijah had began---all of which suggests a
hopeful conclusion: God's work has to be done, but it doesn't have to
be done by us.
Of the three final jobs God had given Elijah, the man from Tishbe only got
around to the last one: the calling of Elisha. The other tasks were accomplished
by Elisha after Elijah's departure. (The oft-expressed idea that Elijah
anointed Hazael and Jehu secretly and Elisha only confirmed their election
is precluded by the account of Jehu's anointing in 2 Kings 9.)
The story of Elisha's call is told in 1 Kings 19:19-21:
Elijah went and found Elisha son of Shaphat. Elisha was plowing
with twelve yoke of oxen, and he himself was driving the twelfth pair. Elijah
went up to him and threw his cloak around him. Elisha then left his oxen
and ran after Elijah. "Let me kiss my father and mother good-by,"
he said, "and then I will come with you."
"Go back," Elijah replied. "What have I done to you?"
So Elisha left him and went back. He took his yoke of oxen and slaughtered
them. He burned the plowing equipment to cook the meat and gave it to the
people, and they ate. Then he set out to follow Elijah and became his attendant.
As Elijah made his way through Galilee he came to the small town of Abel
Maholah. Abel Maholah means "meadow of dancing" and suggests the
joy that accompanied the rich harvests that characterized that region. There
was a prosperous farmer there, a man named Shaphat, who had vast holdings
in the area. A wealthy man, his fields stretched as far as the eye could
see.
The drought that had plagued Israel for three and a half years was broken
and Shaphat's workmen were in the fields preparing them for seed. Elisha,
Shaphat's son, occupied a privileged position on the farm. But like all
dutiful sons in Israel, he did his share of the dirty work. When we first
see him, he is "driving the twelfth" of twelve pairs of oxen,
eating the dust of eleven plows turning the soil in front of him.
The old prophet slipped up behind Elisha while he was plowing, cast his
rough, camel-hair mantle over the young farmer's shoulders, and then moved
on. Not a word was spoken, but Elisha knew. Back then a teacher's
mantle stood for all the teacher stood for and suggested an investiture
of his authority. "When a great teacher died," Sir John Malcolm
wrote in his history of this region, "he bequeathed his patched mantle
to the disciple he most esteemed. His mantle was his all and its transfer
marked out his heir."
Elisha's response was immediate: He left his oxen standing where they were
and ran after Elijah with only one request: "Let me kiss my father
and mother good-by," he said, "and then I will come with you."
(Matthew Henry observes that Elisha returned "to take leave,
not to ask leave of them.")
Elijah's response sounds stern and unrelenting: "Go back (return);
what have I done to you?" But he meant no severity. Elijah was giving
Elisha permission to return to his father and mother if he wanted to do
so. The words, "What have I done to you?" invited thoughtful inquiry.
Elijah wanted Elisha to think about the implications of what he was about
to do---to count the cost of his call. He understood the sacrifice that
the younger man was being asked to make and he wanted to leave Elisha uncoerced,
his service the outcome of his own heart's conviction and choice.
Elisha chose to forsake mother and father and houses and landsand follow.
It is highly significant that his oxen, the yoke, and the wooden ploughshare---all
implements related to his past life---were consumed in a final feast with
his family and friends. In an odd mix of metaphors, he burned his bridges
and ate them!
Then "(Elisha) set out to follow Elijah and became his attendant."
For many years after, the young man did little more than "pour water
on the hands of Elijah" as the idiom has it (2 Kings 3:11). Yet he
listened and learned, determined to let none of Elijah's words fall to the
ground.
In turn, Elijah invested himself in Elisha, strengthening the younger man's
grip on God and extending his grasp of invisible realities. The old prophet
knew there was no better way to spend his final days.
It is worth noting that God was preparing Elisha even while Elijah was begging
to die. "Take my life, Lord," Elijah had lamented under the desert
broom tree. "I'm no use to anyone anymore. I'm a failure---and too
old start over. There's nothing left me to do but die." The old prophet
thought his work was done when, in fact, he was about to enter into his
most enduring work---helping to shape a young man that God intended to use
for the next fifty years.
Elisha stuck to Elijah like a limpet, fully willing to share his mentor's
dangers and privations. In turn, Elijah invested himself in Elisha, teaching
him, encouraging him, intent on strengthening his grip on God.
But all earthly, good things must come to an end. God informed Elijah that
he was sending his chariot to bring him home. Elijah, knowing his departure
was imminent, tried to dissuade Elisha from following:
"Stay here. The LORD has sent me to Bethel."
But Elisha said, "As surely as the LORD lives and as you live, I will
not leave you." So they went down to Bethel.
The company of the prophets at Bethel came out to Elisha and asked, "Do
you know that the LORD is going to take your master from you today?'"
"Yes, I know," Elisha replied, "but do not speak of it."
(Don't tell me!)
Then Elijah said to him, "Stay here, Elisha; the LORD has sent me to
Jericho."
And he replied, "As surely as the LORD lives and as you live, I will
not leave you." So they went to Jericho.
The company of the prophets at Jericho went up to Elisha and asked him,
"Do you know that the LORD is going to take your master from you today?"
"Yes, I know," he replied, "but do not speak of it."
Then Elijah said to him, "Stay here; the LORD has sent me to the Jordan."
And he replied, "As surely as the LORD lives and as you live, I will
not leave you.' So the two of them walked on" (2:1-6).
Three times Elijah tried to tear himself away from Elisha. Three times Elisha
refused to turn back, affirming again and again his love for his mentor
and his intention to learn from him as long as he lived---right up to the
last bittersweet moment. Old saints, he knew, never outlive their usefulness.
Elisha followed Elijah from their residence in Gilgal to Bethel and down
the steep descent to Jericho and on to the banks of the Jordan. When they
reached the river, Elijah, knowing God's will lay on the other side, took
off his mantle, "rolled it up and struck the water with it. The water
divided to the right and to the left, and the two of them crossed over on
dry ground"(2:8).
Three times the historian tells us of their camaraderie: "the two of
them walked on" (2:6); "the two of them stood by the Jordan"
(2:7); "the two of them crossed over on dry ground" (2:8). Elijah
and Elisha walked together for the last time across the plain of the Jordan
and up the other side. Eventually the haze or the hills beyond hid the receding
figures from the gaze of the prophets who had accompanied them from Jericho
(2:7).
Israel's historian draws a veil over most of that last conversation, contenting
himself with Elijah's question:
Elijah said to Elisha, "Tell me, what can I do for you before I am
taken from you?" (2:9).
Here's a door flung wide open---a chancy carte blanche---but the
older prophet knew his disciple would not ask for a gift that God could
not or would not bestow.
Elijah's confidence was well placed: Elisha did not ask for fame, wealth,
or earthly power, but rather spiritual influence:
"Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit," Elisha asked
(2:9).
Elisha asked for the right stuff: a "double portion" of Elijah's
spirit---the inheritance of a firstborn son (Deuteronomy 21:17). "Spirit"
can mean many things, but here Elisha is using the term in the sense of
a dominant disposition. Elisha wanted to be the heir of the disposition
or attitude that enabled Elijah to touch lives so deeply.
"You have asked a difficult thing," Elijah said, "yet if
you see me when I am taken from you, it (the double portion) will be yours---otherwise
not."
As they were walking along and talking together, suddenly a chariot of fire
and horses of fire appeared and separated the two of them, and Elijah went
up to heaven in a whirlwind. Elisha saw this and cried out, "My father!
My father! The chariots and horsemen of Israel!" And Elisha saw him
no more. Then he took hold of his own clothes and tore them apart"
(2:10-12).
Elijah's requirement that Elisha see his departure seems frivolous, but
it was not. It had to do with that all-important ability to see what otherwise
cannot be seen.
"Elijah was like us" James said. His power came not from some
latent or inherent human ability, but because his eyes were fixed "on
what is unseen" (2 Corinthians 4:18). That was the secret of his influence.
The real issue in Elijah's "test" was whether or not Elisha had
learned his secret.
Indeed, the younger prophet had learned the lesson well. F. B. Meyer wrote,
"No mere mortal eye could have beheld the fiery cortège. To
senses dulled by materialism, the space occupied by the flaming seraphim
would have seemed devoid of any special interest, and bare as the rest of
the surrounding scenery."
A mere man would have seen nothing but the sudden disappearance of the prophetyet
Elisha saw the invisible hosts of God. He had learned that most important
lesson of all, that truth that informs every other truth, without which
nothing else matters: He had learned to put his eyes on that world
that cannot be seen.
And so it is with us: There is a reality all about us that does not register
on our retinas. "The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear
him, and he delivers them" (Psalm 34:7). We cannot normally see those
encampments, but---whether we see them or not---they are certainly there.
"Hell is nigh, but God is nigher; Circling us with hosts of fire."
It lies around us like a cloud---
A world we do not see;
---Harriet Beecher Stowe
In a materialistic world like ours, the only real things are the things
we can detect with our five senses. "What you see is what you get,"
in the words of that old philosopher, Flip Wilson.
There is, however, another realm of reality---more actual, more factual,
more substantial than anything we can see, hear, touch, taste, smell in
this world. It exists all around us---not out "there somewhere,"
but here.
There are legions of angels at our disposal, for which earth's forces have
no counter-measures. "The chariots of God are myriads; thousands upon
thousands" (Psalm 68:17). God and his squadrons of angels are everywhere
around us---an encircling fire. We cannot see them with our natural eyes,
but whether we see them or not they are there. The earth is crammed with
them!
Faith is the means by which we gain access to that invisible world. That
is belief's true function. Faith is to the spiritual realm what the five
senses are to the natural. It is the means by which we grasp spiritual reality
and bring it into the realm of our experience. "Faith," says the
writer of Hebrews, "gives substance to things that are not seen."
Faith is simpler and grander than we believe. We tend to think of it as
psyching ourselves into accepting improbable facts that are hard, if not
impossible, to believe. But authentic faith is something else: It is the
capacity to look beyond the seen to the unseen world of reality where the
invisible God is at work. The heroes of the Book of Hebrews were not folks
who believed what others could not believe. They were men and women who
saw what others could not see! They "quenched the fury of the flames,
and escaped the edge of the sword; whose weakness was turned to strength;
and who became powerful in battle and routed foreign armies." Why?
How? Because they "saw him who is invisible" (Hebrews 11:27).
They saw God at work behind the scenes and that was what enabled them to
do what God was asking them to do.
Seeing always precedes doing. Consider Jesus' disciple Nathanael, sitting
under his fig tree. Our Lord said of him, "Here is a true Israelite,
in whom there is no guile." Nathanael was amazed, and he believed.
Then hear what Jesus said: "You believe because I told you I saw you
under the fig tree. You shall see greater things than that."
He then added, "I tell you the truth, you shall see heaven open,
and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man" (John
1:50,51).
The main thing is to grow eyes thatsee. As Yogi Berra noted, "You
can observe a lot by seeing."
There Are More of Us Then There Are of Them!
An incident took place later in Elisha's career that affirms that he had
learned how to see.
It happened like this: Josephus, the Jewish historian, says that the Syrian
King Ben-Hadad was trying his best to capture and kill King Jehoram of Israel,
who often hunted along the border between the two nations. At that time,
the Jordan Valley was heavily wooded and a prime habitat for lions and bears
and other wild animals.
Elisha, however, was privy to everything Ben-Hadad planned, and kept Jehoram
informed so that the king was able to avoid being ambushed.
Ben-Hadad suspected skullduggery and summoned his officers to locate the
informant. "Will you not tell me which of us is on the side of the
king of Israel?" he asked. "None of us, my lord the king,"
said one of his officers, "but Elisha, the prophet who is in Israel,
tells the king of Israel the very words you speak in your bedroom."
Ben-Hadad's bedroom was bugged!
God overheard the king's pillow-talk, gathered fresh intelligence each night,
and passed it on to Elisha.
"Go, find out where he is," the Syrian monarch thundered, "so
I can send men and capture him," and his officers immediately dispatched
a small detachment to locate the prophet.
Elisha wasn't hard to find because he wasn't trying to hide. The Syrian
scouts quickly discovered he was temporarily residing in the city of Dothan.
When they reported back to Ben Hadad he "sent horses and chariots and
a large force." (Big numbers is a typically pagan notion of power.)
Dothan was a tiny settlement about twelve miles north of Samaria. Excavations
there have uncovered a village about ten to twelve acres in size. The only
wall then was a stone rampart from an earlier period that was still in use
and, as ancient walls go, was unimpressive. There had never been anything
strategic in Dothan worth defending---until Elisha showed up.
The Syrian army gathered by night, surrounded the city, sized up the defenders
and the walls, and decided there was nothing much to be concerned about.
They bedded down and waited for the dawn.
Early next morning, Elisha's disciple awakened and began making preparations
to return to their residence in Samaria. He happened to look over the wall
and discovered to his great dismay that "an army with horses and chariots
had surrounded the city." He ran to alert Elisha and cried in despair,
"Oh, my lord, what shall we do?"
Elisha comforted his servant with a word:
"Don't be afraid," the prophet answered. "Those who are with
us are more than those who are with them."
And Elisha prayed, "O LORD, open his eyes so he may see." Then
the LORD opened the servant's eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full
of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha" (2 Kings 6:17).
He saw the legions of heaven at Elisha's disposal.
"We've got 'em outnumbered!" Elisha assured his frazzled and frightened
servant. "There are more of us than there are of them!"
And so it is: Forces gather around us in opposition; our opponents always
seem to have the edge. But all that is false. We are never out-numbered.
We are never out-manned or out­p;gunned.
"Many are my foes," David wrote, "Many rise
up against me. (Nevertheless) I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because
the LORD sustains me. I will not fear the tens of thousands drawn up against
me on every side" (Psalm 3:12,5-6).
We will always be disadvantaged, but we can never be overcome. Our awareness
of the unseen world will maintain our hearts in strength and courage in
the day of pressure and panic. It is the means by which weaklings are turned
into mighty warriors and by which they route whole armies. It's the way
by which you and I can take hold of strength.
When you walk into a crowded room and feel intimidated and insecure;
- when you're in a classroom full of hostile thinking
and you're the only one who takes God seriously;
- when you find ourselves the sole voice for morality and righteousness.
- when you feel squashed and crushed by overwhelming odds;
you must say to youself, "The Lord and his legions are here! There's
more of us than there are of them!"
Of course there will be privations, difficulties, trials, but the answer
to all is that vision.
There is no situation too difficult.
There is no fear that cannot be dispelled.
There is no opponent that cannot be quelled.
God is there with you in that place; you are on holy ground. Though nations
conspire and people plot against you, God is between you and all opposition.
However strong the foe God is stronger. However swift the blow, God is swifter
and can ward it off. When the enemy comes in like a flood, the Spirit of
God will raise up a standard against him.
"No weapon forged against you will prevail,
and you will refute every tongue that accuses you.
This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD,
and this is their vindication from me," declares the LORD
-Isaiah 54:17
Where is the God of Elijah?
As soon as Elijah departed. Elisha "picked up the cloak that had fallen
from Elijah, went back to the Jordan River and stood by its banks."
Then he took his elder's mantle---the symbol of Elijah's prophetic office
to which he succeeded---raised it overhead in imitation of Elijah's act,
and brought it down on the waters. It's not clear from our English translations,
but the Hebrew text suggests the act accomplished nothing; the waters were
not parted! Elijah's mantle had failed.
"Where now is the LORD, the God of Elijah---yea even He?" Elisha
cried.
Good question. How often have we raised that cry when we have stood face
to face with some obstruction? (Often there's more despair than query in
the question.)
But with the question came the answer: "I am here!" Elijah
had gone home, but God remained---more alive than Elisha could ever imagine.
It is what he does. If you ask where God is, he will answer you, "I
am here with you"---always at hand---to do for you what he has done
for others in the past.
There is no power in the prophet's mantle, his manner, or his methods. There
is nothing peculiar to any person that qualifies him or her for the task
God has given that one to do. All power comes from that invisible realm
that only faith can see.
And so Elisha fixed his eyes once more "on what is unseen." With
sight restored (it must be restored again and again) he struck the water
and "it divided to the right and to the left, and he crossed over.
The company of the prophets from Jericho, who were watching, said, 'The
spirit of Elijah is resting on Elisha.' And they went to meet him and bowed
to the ground before him" (2:14,15).
Seeing God, "invests a Christian worker with the awful atmosphere of
God," says Charles Fox. "But such transformation belongs to none
but the seer, for the seer of the unseen is the only true seer. The best
seers, not the best sayers, are God's most effective messengers."
And so you must grow eyes that see. They are a gift of God given in answer
to prayer. So Paul prays that the eyes of our hearts may be enlightened
that we may see what otherwise cannot be seen (Ephesians 1: 18).
Your seeing will grow as you feed on God's word: "Faith comes from
hearing the message," Paul assures us (Romans 10:17). The test of your
time in the Word is this: Has it enabled me to see?
"Seeing depends on where you stand," C. S. Lewis observed, "It
also depends on the sort of person you are." Purity of heart enables
perceptions that others cannot duplicate. It gets glimpses of the workings
of God where duplicity detects nothing. "Blessed are the pure in heart."
Jesus said, "for they (and they alone) will see God" (Matthew
5:8).
Together, then, let us ask our Lord to give us eyes that "pierce to
the further brink of things we cannot see" (George MacDonald).
Then you will have no reason to ask, "Where is the Lord God of Elijah?"
You will know that he is with you, waiting to do as much for you as he did
for Elijah. So you will become the heir of those "who through faith
conquered kingdoms, administered justice, and gained what was promised"
(Hebrews 11:33, 34.)
David Roper