2 Kings 2:1

A MEMORABLE PARTING

‘And it came to pass, when the Lord would take up Elijah into heaven by a whirlwind, that Elijah went with Elisha from Gilgal.’

2 Kings 2:1

I. In this last journey the first thing to impress us is the loyal attachment of Elisha.—He reminds us of Ruth, pleading with Naomi and saying to her, ‘Entreat me not to leave thee.’ Elijah was not afraid to be alone—no man who ‘dwells deep’ is afraid of that. He may have wished, too, to spare Elisha pain, for he knew not the way of his departure. But with a splendid constancy that would not be gainsaid Elisha clung to his master as he journeyed; he followed him from Bethel down to Gilgal, and then from Gilgal to the east of Jordan. Does that not by contrast suggest another scene where a greater than Elijah is going to His death? Does it not recall our Lord and Saviour taking His last journey to the Cross? For as Jesus went on His sad way to Calvary, ‘all His disciples forsook Him and fled.’ It is by such a contrast that we gauge Elisha’s loyalty, and see how staunch and true he was, and learn how suitable a one he was to carry forward the championship of God.

II. Then, in the next place, we are arrested by the miracle upon the banks of Jordan.—Elijah smote the waters with his mantle, and immediately they went over on dry ground. Once the Red Sea had given a path to Israel when the rod of Moses had been lifted over it. Once this very Jordan had been parted before the feet of the priests who bore the ark. But now it was not a rod that gave the sign, nor was it the shadow of the sacred ark; it was the touch of the prophet’s mantle on the waters. Now the prophet’s mantle was the sign and symbol of all that as a prophet he had been. By his mantle he had been distinguished. When men descried it, they said, ‘There is Elijah.’ Rough, hairy, beaten with many a storm, it was a silent monitor in a luxurious age—it was the emblem of Elijah’s character. There was no power in the mantle by itself. God is a God of mystery, but not of magic. It was all that Elijah had been—all he had tried to do—that was honoured in this memorable hour. And the Jordan parted at the mantle’s touch, because the mantle was the epitome of that, and because the service and sacrifice which Jehovah loves, were symbolised for men in that rude cloak. The man who can say with St. Paul, ‘I have fought the fight,’ or with Elijah, ‘I have tried to serve,’ that man, when his day of life is closing, shall have the prophet’s mantle for his own.

III. Lastly, Take the ascension of Elijah, and compare it with the ascension of the Lord.—It is a study of the deepest interest to compare and contrast the two. In both, there had been a time of preparation; there were those who knew that the parting was at hand. In both, it occurred not in the weakness of age, but in the season when powers are at their prime. None but Elisha, the beloved disciple, saw the departure to heaven of Elijah; and on the slopes of Olivet there were not any strangers—only the little circle of His own. Elijah went heavenward in fire and tempest; Christ in a quiet scene of perfect calm—the storm is hushed, the elements are at rest, there broods a peace that passes understanding. Read over the story of Elijah’s translation, and you feel the shock and strangeness of it all. But read again the ascension of the Lord, and it seems as sweetly natural as dawn. So may we find, if we have eyes to see, the difference between the prophet and his King. The one at his best is but a child of earth; the other belongs by very right to heaven. Let us rejoice in these great and noble men who witnessed so bravely for righteousness in Israel. But over them all, and crowned with many crowns, is our King Who has ascended to the Father.

Illustrations

(1) ‘Note a distinction between the power which is immediate and the power which is derived. The appeal to the fathers is good, and tradition is deserving of reverence, but, after all, the God of Elijah is also our God. Our trust should be in Him.’

(2) ‘It is interesting to note, as Dean Stanley does, that from this descending mantle has been drawn the figure of speech which has passed into a proverb for the succession of the gifts of gifted men. It is one of the representations by which, in the Roman Catacombs, the early Christians consoled themselves for the loss of their departed friends.’