“You have asked a difficult thing,” Elijah said, “yet if you see me when I am taken from you, it will be yours—otherwise, it will not.”
2 Kings 2:10
Hezekiah was a superstar among the Hebrew kings. He took over a kingdom rife with war and paganism, destroyed idols all over Judah, and reinstated lawful temple worship. He strengthened the defenses of Jerusalem by digging a tunnel to ensure access to water during the siege by the Assyrian king Sennacherib. And when the Assyrian armies taunted Jerusalem’s cowering citizens, he fervently prayed to God, who answered him with a miraculous deliverance. To top it off, when Hezekiah fell deathly ill, his appeal to the Lord resulted in a fifteen-year extension of his life. Hezekiah was one impressive ruler. Indeed, as the scriptures declare, there was no one like him among all the kings of Judah, either before him or after him. Hezekiah ranks right up there with David, Jehoshaphat, and the boy-king Josiah.
But I recently stumbled on a passage that I had forgotten. Hezekiah had just proudly displayed his wealth to some Babylonian envoys when the prophet Isaiah showed up:
Isaiah said to Hezekiah, “Hear the word of the Lord of hosts: Behold, the days are coming, when all that is in your house, and that which your fathers have stored up till this day, shall be carried to Babylon. Nothing shall be left, says the Lord. And some of your own sons, who will come from you, whom you will father, shall be taken away, and they shall be eunuchs in the palace of the king of Babylon.”
Then Hezekiah said to Isaiah, “The word of the Lord that you have spoken is good.” For he thought, “There will be peace and security in my days.”
That stopped me dead in my tracks. Isaiah divulges the upcoming judgment upon Judah and even on Hezekiah’s own sons, and all the king is concerned about is his own welfare? It’s like he figures he’s already done his thing for God; the future is now somebody else’s problem. It seems that all Hezekiah wants now is a nice life and a peaceful ride into the sunset.
How different from Elisha. Apprentice to the great Elijah, Elisha reveals his true colors when it is revealed that his master is soon to be taken away. The account, recorded in 2 Kings, is almost comical. Elijah keeps telling his apprentice to stay put while he moves on to the next place, but Elisha will have none of it. He insists, “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.” This happens three times. Along the way, companies of local prophets—you know, the people with all the right answers—they confidently inform Elisha that God is going to take his master away that very day. “Yes, I know,” he snaps at them. “Be quiet.” Finally Elijah and Elisha cross the Jordan (with a little help from Elijah’s magic cloak) where Elijah asks his apprentice the ten-thousand-dollar question: “What can I do for you before I am taken from you?”
The boldness of Elisha’s answer is astonishing: “Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit.” This takes some serious chutzpah.
The sheer audacity of his request is underscored by Elijah’s reply. “You have asked a difficult thing.” No freaking kidding. Elijah’s the one and only God’s-not-in-the-whirlwind-or-the-earthquake-or-the-fire-but-in-the-small-still-voice guy. Elijah’s the guy who calls down fire from the sky and who lends his name to none other than John the Baptist, the very guy whom Jesus himself calls the greatest prophet of all. Elisha wants twice whatever that is? Whoa.
Surprisingly, Elijah assents to this outrageous petition—with one important condition: “If you see me when I am taken from you, it will be yours—otherwise, it will not.” Elisha’s tenacity is rewarded. He sees the chariot of fire and gets what he wanted.
It strikes me that Hezekiah and Elisha reflect two different kinds of Christians and even different kinds of churches. Some, like Hezekiah, have great track records of faith but have essentially retired from the fray. They see what’s coming down the pike but are content to glide into the Promised Land. As long as they are undisturbed, they are unconcerned. In my experience, most believers and too many churches are like Hezekiah.
A precious few, however, are hungry. Like Elisha, they recognize that something earth-shattering is upon us. Unlike the crowd of prophets who know all the right answers (but keep at a comfortable distance) these unsettled believers are not satisfied with the status quo. Their track records mean little to them. They know that the visitation of God will not be awarded equally to everyone. They know that receiving is for the askers, finding for the seekers, and open doors for the persistent knockers.
And thus comes the word of the Lord to many of us: “I know your works. You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead. Wake up, and strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God. Remember, then, what you received and heard. Keep it, and repent. If you will not wake up, I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what hour I will come against you.” This is serious stuff.
This new year I renew my commitment to call upon the Living God. I do not ask for comfort or contentment. I search for neither reassurance nor commendation. I do not seek even my own salvation. Famished beyond reckoning, I will cry out with Elisha, “Where is the Lord God of Elijah?”
Nothing else matters.
