Liturgy: “Details of the Future”

What is the King’s Liturgy? King’s Liturgy defines our experience together as a Christian community. It outlines the rhythms we celebrate with the Church at large: Scripture readings, Sabbath habits, and celebration of Holy Days and historical events.

This Week’s Lectionary Readings

2 Kings 2:1-12
2 Corinthians 4:3-6
Mark 9:2-9
Psalm 50:1-6

This week’s liturgy is contributed by Danise Stokeld, administrative director of educational ventures:

And he said, “Yes, I know; keep silent.”

Twice Elisha says this. Simple, but powerful. So often the Scriptures give us so few details to go on when describing some incredibly powerful moments in history. How did he know? What exactly did Elisha understand about what was ahead for him?

How many times has God spoken to me, leaving so many details unclear, until I began walking the journey? The call to live and serve overseas came in college, but the details of living in a former Communist, Muslim country for 15+ years came much later.

Surely there was a mixture of excitement, sadness, trepidation as they walked along? Elisha knew his friend was would soon be in the presence of his Lord. But Elisha was being left behind. Goodbyes are hard.

“But when he could no longer see him, he grasped his own clothes and tore them in two pieces.”

Often in the OT, we see grief expressed with the tearing of clothes. I wonder if they were on to something in their very visual act of mourning. We were living in Central Asia when my dad was diagnosed with leukemia. When I got the middle of the night call to get home, my world shattered. Maybe if I could have torn my clothes, it would have begun to display to others around the devastation I felt in that moment.

When we left Central Asia “for good” after spending most of the last two decades there, the grief of leaving our friends and home was almost unbearable. Sure, we were headed back to the land of opportunity (or at least Oreos and Diet Coke), but we knew it wasn’t the “heaven” that many dreamed it to be, and building a new life in South Carolina would not be easy. Incredibly, the Lord led us to jobs and ministry that were even more rewarding than living overseas had been. Our children flourished, the journey fairly smooth.

So eight year later, when we first heard about 50,000+ Central Asians in Brooklyn, I was not thrilled. I personally have never even wanted to visit NYC, much less live here! Where would we work, how would we live in a tiny apartment after living for years in a five-bedroom home, who would take care of my mother who lived with us and is in the final stages of Alzheimer’s? What about my college aged kids? How could I leave them behind? Yet here we are, working in Manhattan and living in Brooklyn among Central Asians. Not exactly heaven, but still on the journey.

We’re all on a journey. Some things we know clearly, exciting adventures that challenge and encourage us. Some things aren’t so clear, taking us so by surprise, bringing sorrow. We’ve had quite the journey these past couple of weeks here at King’s. Tremendous, unexplainable loss. Followed by displays of incredible kindness and courage rarely seen. A road none of us would have chosen, and yet we walk it.

Thankfully the story doesn’t end there. Elisha picked up Elijah’s coat. I wonder if he held it close, remembering. Maybe breathed in the familiar scent. And he went back and stood by the Jordan, where he had just walked with his friend. How long did he stand there, reflecting, pondering what he had just experienced, grieving, yet sensing the Lord’s presence and direction? And he called on the Lord. What he had learned from his friend, he took as his own. He struck the water, as he had seen Elisha do.

And the water was parted to the one side and to the other.
And he crossed over. 

And so shall we.