At the second congregation I served, Bethlehem
in the Beverly neighborhood of Chicago, we initiated an evangelism
program of canvassing the neighborhood. We'd gather a group of
people on a Sunday afternoon once a month, assign them a few blocks,
give them literature extolling the virtues of our church and its
programs, say a prayer together and send them out to knock on
doors and meet the neighbors. It was an interesting program that
generated a number of visitors to our church. After about four
months of doing it we got together to evaluate how things were
going. After a little chatting Vi piped up, "Something bothers
me about all this. Here we go, knocking on our neighbor's doors,
urging them to come to church to get to know Jesus. But what
are we inviting them to? We tell them we have great kids programs,
activities for seniors, and terrific music at our services. In
other words we have all these things to meet your needs, to entertain
you, to help you in your life."
"What's wrong with that" we asked, isn't that what the
church is supposed to do?"
"Seems to me," Vi said, "Somewhere it says, "Take
up your cross and follow me."
And we were silent. Remembering that discipleship, Christian discipleship
is something else again. How in the world do we call people to
Jesus, appealing to their selfishness, their needs, and then end
up with the discipleship spoken of in today's gospel?
Jesus is on the way, and you know in which
direction he is headed. He is on his way to his death. And on
the way, people come up to him saying, "I'll follow you wherever
you go only just.only just." I'll follow you wherever
you go, only just let me first give my father a decent burial.
After all, "honor your father and mother" isn't that
what the Bible says? Jesus replies, let the dead bury the dead.
Follow me!!
Another says, "I'll follow you, only just let me get things
in order at home. After all don't we believe in family values?"
Jesus replies, "No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks
back is fit for the kingdom of God."
On this pleasant summer Sunday morning, on a weekend before a
nice vacation, we come to Jesus, seeking to follow him. And he
gives us these tough demanding words that make us look at ourselves
and to ourselves. Are we really ready to follow Jesus?
Our Old Testament lesson for today is such a strange one, the ascent of Elijah into heaven. It is an incredibly rich text and there are many things about it that we could study. Probably one of the most obvious is that this text points out that Elijah didn't die. Elijah, unlike anyone else in the entire Bible except perhaps the obscure Enoch, didn't die. What that means is that people throughout Old Testament history right up to Jesus' time and for Jews even after that were expecting that Elijah could appear again. You'll remember that when Jesus asks his disciples, "Who do people say that I am," the disciples reply, "Well many say you are Elijah." The result of people's expectation that Elijah could return was to imagine that he did return. People were ready to see Elijah around every corner popping up at the most inopportune times. And the thing is that Elijah, as a prophet held a mirror up to you, revealed you for who you really were, rather than who you thought you were supposed to be. Folk tales grew up.
There's a wedding. The children of two prosperous farm families are involved. After the service there is a celebration with all their friends and neighbors invited. Elijah appears dressed as a beggar. This seems to be the prophet's favorite guise. When he seeks entrance to the gathering the servants who guard the door ask both families if this is someone they know. Each family takes one look at the beggar and says to send him packing, and to be sure he does not sneak around and try to enter by another way. Such beggars are only good for taking food and picking the pockets of the guests. Elijah then goes behind a nearby hill and transforms into a finely dressed young noble. Again he attempts to enter the party. This time when the servants ask the families if they know the young man they take a closer look. After all, he is handsome and well dressed. Each family has other daughters not yet married. So they tell the servants to let the stranger in. As he enters the hall Elijah begins to take his clothes off. The families tell him that there is no need to take his coat off, when he informs them that he intends to undress entirely. He says, "When I came here before dressed as a beggar you sent me packing. But now I return dressed in fine clothes and you welcome me. I am the same person. It must be the clothes you wanted to invite to the party, not me." (adapted retold from Leo Pavlat, Jewish Folktales [New York: Greenwich House, 1986], pp. 66-67) Elijah encounters people who are plowing through life accepting the values of the world and their social class. When the prophet arrives, however, the tables are turned. The values are challenged and overturned by another way of thinking.The people are called to change. Elisha can no longer continue with the circle of plowing and the seasons of agricultural life after his encounter with Elijah. He must change his life, and does. We do not know if a change came about for the family of the bride and groom in the folktale, but the demand is present; you must change your life.
Another story in that same tradition tells
of a wealthy farmer who lives on Mt. Carmel. This farmer was known
for his melons, which brought a fine price in the marketplace.
One day Elijah was passing by, again dressed as a beggar. He asked
the farmer for one melon. The farmer would ordinarily have just
sent the beggar on his way. But that day he was in an especially
good mood and wanted to have some fun with his visitor.
"I know you think these are melons," the farmer began,
"because they look like fine, ripe melons. Your eyes deceive
you, though. They are not good to eat at all. They are actually
stones and no good to eat," the farmer smiled.
"It is not my eyes but your heart that is the deceiver here,"
responded Elijah.
"But you are the one who is deceived. Because of your hardness
of heart, your false words have become true." Sure enough
when the farmer looked around his feet, all of his beautiful melons
had turned to stone. If you don't believe it's true, just go
to Mt. Carmel. Look across the hillsides. There you will see literally
thousands of stones just about the size of melons.
Again the farmer here is offered the option of changing his life
or living with the stone cold world his own falsehoods have created
all around him. Since Elijah never died we can assume that he
is still around today, taking on different guises. Who are the
Elijah's in your life or in your community? Have you ever encountered
someone whose very presence demanded that you change your life?
Many who encountered Jesus in today's gospel text were not able to do what his very words and presence call on them to do. They were not able to change their lives as radically as Jesus' life and witness required. Are we able to see the Elijahs in our midst? Are we able to respond to the radical love that God shared through Jesus, a love that demands that we must change our lives?
Several years ago I had an experience that confirmed the fact that Elijah was still around. When I was a young seminarian on internship in Lakeville Minnesota, I met my Elijah. I was going to be a pastor so I was supposed to be compassionate and caring. I had just had ten weeks of Clinical Pastoral Education under my belt as a chaplain in a hospital where we did nothing but learn to be compassionate and caring. Doug and I lived in a garden apartment. Across the hall from us was Lester. Lester was about 60 and he was legally blind. Lester liked to talk. Every time you met him in the hall you could bank on at least a half hour interchange. And Lester didn't have any trouble asking for help. He would regularly knock on our door to read this or that set of instructions to him. Well one lovely Saturday morning he had a bit of an emergency. The community car that the county provided for the disabled was broken down and Lester was left high and dry for getting to an important appointment in Minneapolis. It was my day off. To take him would require the better part of the day. I didn't have any plans but that was the beauty of the day, I didn't have plans. "Lester, I said, I just can't help you." And I watched him walk away discouraged. Turning to the mirror I realized I wasn't the person I thought I was. I wasn't the person I wanted to be. I really wasn't ready to hear Jesus' words "Follow me" and answer them.
Is Elijah still around showing us up for the
people we really are and offering us a chance to change our lives?
Is Jesus still beckoning to us to "Follow me" and watching
us turn away only just to do this or that first?
I think they're here. I know I've met them.
Amen.