When she reached the man of God at the mountain, she took hold of his feet. Gehazi came over to push her away, but the man of God said, “Leave her alone! She is in bitter distress, but the Lord has hidden it from me and has not told me why.” “Did I ask you for a son, my lord?” she said. “Didn’t I tell you, ‘Don’t raise my hopes’?” Elisha said to Gehazi, “Tuck your cloak into your belt, take my staff in your hand and run. Don’t greet anyone you meet, and if anyone greets you, do not answer. Lay my staff on the boy’s face.” But the child’s mother said, “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.” So he got up and followed her. Gehazi went on ahead and laid the staff on the boy’s face, but there was no sound or response. So Gehazi went back to meet Elisha and told him, “The boy has not awakened.”
When Elisha reached the house, there was the boy lying dead on his couch. He went in, shut the door on the two of them and prayed to the Lord. Then he got on the bed and lay on the boy, mouth to mouth, eyes to eyes, hands to hands. As he stretched himself out on him, the boy’s body grew warm. Elisha turned away and walked back and forth in the room and then got on the bed and stretched out on him once more. The boy sneezed seven times and opened his eyes.
Elisha summoned Gehazi and said, “Call the Shunammite.” And he did. When she came, he said, “Take your son.” She came in, fell at his feet and bowed to the ground. Then she took her son and went out.
(2 Kings 4:27-36)
Background
There were few Old Testament characters who had witnessed or been conduits for God’s massive power than Elisha. He assisted in the healing of a leper. He called fire down twice from heaven to extinguish a King appointed company of 51 men. He yelled out a curse on 42 young boys who called him “Baldy”. Two bears met the young instigators. It didn’t end well. Elisha’s connection to God’s power was renowned.
The Shunammite woman had generously provided a personal room on her roof for Elisha a few years before. A bed. A chair. A table. And lamp. All the conveniences of a nice condo in the small town of Shunem. Comfortable.
Elisha reciprocated with an act of kindness. He brokered a deal with God that would provide a child to the woman. And her older husband. Barrenness would soon be confronted by the power of the Holy Spirit. And barrenness yielded to the power greater than itself. It always does. The child arrived. And all was well. Very well.
But this story took a difficult turn. The child became ill with his father in a field. His head hurt. The father sent the child back to his mother at the house. The mother comforted her son. She held her son for hours. And then the unthinkable. The child died in her arms.
An unexpected and glorious blessing seemed to evolve into a twisted game of celestial take away. Ever been there?
The woman’s next move was clear. After laying her son on Elisha’s bed, the prophet was summoned. Immediately. He had orchestrated the blessing. Set an expectation. He had a direct line to God. Elisha needed to coordinate a way out.
The woman quickly found both Elisha and his aide, Gehazi, on a mountain. The boy’s condition was communicated. Elisha responded urgently. Gehazi, more fit than Elisha, should race back to the boy. Not stopping for anything. And upon arriving at her house he was to place Elisha’s staff on the boy. Power transfer from the staff was the hope.
Gehazi executed the plan as described. The Shunammite woman was desperate – she kept pace with him all the way back to the house. Both arrived at the house. The staff was placed on the child. They watched. They waited. And they waited. Expectancy was met with silence. Nothing. Hope was on the ropes. The plan wasn’t working.
Elisha arrived. Gehazi and mom were ordered to leave the room. The next step required focus. And privacy. Difficult discussions. God. Elisha. The prayer began.
Elisha physically got even closer to the boy. Mouth to mouth. Eyes to eyes. Hands to hands. The pleading continued. The body seemed to be warming up. Elisha walked the room. The pleading continued. Now, on to the boy again. Mouth to mouth. Eyes to eyes. Hands to hands.
This time seven sneezes from the boy ushered in a new reality. Life. Hope was no longer on the ropes.
The Shunammite woman and Gehazi were invited back into the room for a joyous meeting.
Even death could not thwart God’s power.
Reflections
Elisha’s connectivity to God’s power was prolific. But why on earth did his initial Plan A of placing the staff on the child not result in immediate healing?
This healing could have easily been consummated through power transfer through a staff. A version of this formula had worked for Peter in the New Testament. Even for Jesus for the woman who reached out in a crowd and was healed by touching Jesus’ clothing.
But God was teaching another truth here. There are instances where healing and life is breathed in through intimate engagement. Closeness. Not just “in the same room” closeness. But even closer. Our posture matters.
Over the last few months the United States has been experiencing renewed racial trauma. We know the names. We have seen the videos. The evidence. No hiding the infractions this time. Visible and stark reminders. We just can’t hide from the reality. Racial injustice is still alive.
I’m a white male. Raised in the suburbs by Christian parents. Good parents. My historical perspectives have been sadly framed from my perch at a safe distance. The typical informed portions of my view. One sided news networks. Talking heads; websites or Facebook accounts that conveniently enforced my intuitions. Views from others who similarly were informed by perspectives…originating from afar.
It is often easier to dismiss societal pain with shallow platitudes such as: “Racism has seen so much progress over the years but impossible to fully eliminate”; “If only African American males would begin to step into stronger spiritual leadership of their families”; “Violent protests are so harmful”; “Other people of color also matter”. Each thought incomplete. Clutching simple, but hugely incomplete paradigms, make it much easier to sleep at night.
For me, this season is a time for intimate engagement. To listen. To learn. From African American friends. Eyes to eyes. Learning about their stories. Learning about the challenges of living out the American dream even today within a different colored skin. Conveying I care. Digesting books or podcasts taking different views. Watching movies highlighting racial hurt. My posture needs to change.
Lord, in this intimate posture of engagement let me be fixated on listening. And feeling. Not anxious to share my views. Or opinions. But open to receive the potential for a truth that has been hidden from my view. As I draw close. Mouth to mouth. Eyes to eyes. Hands to hands. Breathe new life into me. Let my new course not end with listening and learning. But be a precursor to empathetic action. Advocacy. Let my new course more accurately reflect your heart. Let me more clearly see what You see. Feel what You feel. Breathe life into me like the Shunammite boy. Please let the church not easily accept the status quo. But be conduits for accelerated racial healing. Be glorified in our reaction. Amen.
What if our life’s purpose requires a path through close encounters and engagements with the hurting in order to wholly fulfill His mission for our lives?
What if there is power in our posture?
What if the church adopted a posture marked by empathetic presence and loved unlike any other time in our country’s history and invited a fresh openness to the gospel, even ushering in revival?
What if... 