Sermon: “More Than We Can See”

Text: 2 Kings 6:8-23

Baptism of the Lord (B)

January 11, 2009

Scripture introduction.  For our second reading this morning, I again have departed from the lectionary passages for the day.  Our first reading and our children’s lesson are carrying the weight of this Sunday’s liturgical theme—the Baptism of Jesus.  Our second reading—which is one of my favorite Old Testament stories and which never appears in the list of Sunday lectionary readings—leads into the second part of our service.  Today we mark the very earliest public stage of our capital campaign, which will reach its climax in March.  Our second reading is from the book of Second Kings, chapter 6, the story of the prophet Elisha confronting and confounding the armies of the king of Aram—another name for Syria.

A word about Elisha:  although the names sound alike, he is a different person from the prophet Elijah.  Both men lived in the northern kingdom of Israel after it had broken away from its smaller southern neighbor, the kingdom of Judah.  The walled city of Samaria was the capital of the northern kingdom.  Elisha had started out as a student, a disciple, of the older Elijah.  As Elijah’s time on earth was nearly over, he asked what he might do for Elisha.[1]  In response Elisha asked for a double portion of Elijah’s prophetic spirit.  Elijah then said that if Elisha were granted to see Elijah as he was being taken up into heaven, the wish would be granted.  In a few moments chariots and horses of fire separated the two, and Elisha saw Elijah ascend in a whirlwind.  Thus, Elisha was assured that he would succeed Elijah as prophet in Israel.  Our second reading this morning recounts the second time that Elisha saw the horses and chariots of fire.

Sermon.  As a culture we have succeeded by relying on what can be learned or deduced from our physical surroundings.  In the Middle Ages people took for granted the knowledge they had inherited from ancient times.  Beginning in the middle-1600s, however, as the Renaissance matured into the period we call the Age of Enlightenment, human reasoning relied increasingly on personal experience and on actual observations of the physical world.  As a species we have made great progress with this strategy.  The Age of Enlightenment gave us Isaac Newton’s laws of motion and the invention of calculus; Lavoisier’s understanding that oxygen was essential to fire; Ampere, Gauss, and Faraday’s unification of electricity and magnetism; Louis Pasteur’s germ theory of disease; Mendeleev’s periodic table of the elements; and Linnaeus’s foundational system of categorizing animal and plant life.  The scientific and medical advances we now enjoy, the technologies on which we rely in our daily lives, would never have developed without the mindset and principles of the Enlightenment.  At the risk of oversimplification we might express that mindset in the quotation, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

Our scripture lesson this morning is all about seeing and not seeing.[2]  The passage begins with an illustration of the prophet Elisha’s “second sight,” which gave him knowledge of where the king of Aram would be sending his troops.  Later, when the king of Aram surrounded Elisha’s home in the night with horses and chariots, Elisha’s young servant woke and as he stepped outside the house and stretched his arms, he must have rubbed his eyes in disbelief because he saw the Syrian army ringed around, cutting off their escape—a whole army to defeat just one man.  He cried, “Alas, master!  What shall we do?”  “Do not be afraid,” replied Elisha, “for there are more with us than there are with them.”  I like Walter Brueggemann’s translation of this line, which makes the humor of the story clearer: [Don’t worry!] “We outnumber them.”[3]  We can imagine the boy looking first to the troops and the chariots and the snorting horses and then at the two of them standing outside the house.  Although the servant’s young eyes could see quite well, the irony of the story is that he was blind to what was so clear to the prophet Elisha.  So Elisha prayed that the servant would be allowed to see the reality that lay behind the normally visible world.  And God granted the prayer.  The boy then saw the deeper reality, that the mountain was full of the armies of the Lord—horses and chariots of fire, all around Elisha.

Now the story becomes one of not seeing, as Elisha prays that the Syrian army would be blinded.  Actually, the Hebrew word here does not mean actual blindness—more like the soldiers were “dazzled” by a bright light.[4]  In any event, their powers of perception were diminished: they did not recognize Elisha when he said, in effect, “He went that-a-way, and I’ll lead you to him.  Follow me.”  Though dazzled and unperceiving, they were able to follow; and Elisha led them into the walled city of Samaria, the capital of Israel, where as the gates were shut they found themselves at the mercy of the king of Israel.  Now, their normal sight was returned to them, and they realized their predicament.  Yet Elisha forbade Israel’s king from harming his enemy.  Rather, the Israelites showed them hospitality and sent them on their way.  As the story concludes, Elisha’s servant has gone from the blindness of normal sight to the fullness of prophetic sight.  The Syrian army has gone from normal sight to dazzled, impaired sight and then back to normal sight.  As Brueggemann points out, this story illustrates something that occurs over and over again in the biblical stories:  when we have faith in God it actually changes the way we see the world.  Others may look at a situation and conclude that it is discouraging, but people of faith look at the same state of affairs and see possibility and hope.

Here’s an example.  Tuesday morning, as Alan and I were discussing the scripture lesson for today, the church doorbell rang.  The visitor turned out to be Jody Grieb, the executive director of Wabash Valley P.A.T.H., the faith-based successor in our area to the HIV/AIDS task force.  As recommended by our Mission Committee, the session voted last month to donate the local portion of your Peacemaking Offering to this organization.  Jody told us that our contribution was completely unexpected, and he had come over to meet us and to thank us.  But there was more.  He said that their organization’s major goal right now is to acquire and to operate a mobile laboratory for free and anonymous HIV testing.  They had identified the type of vehicle they needed, and they had lined up bank financing for the purchase.  But the bank required a hefty down-payment.  After a series of fund-raisers last year, Jody added up their collections and noted that they were still $700 short of the amount needed.  He went home that night wondering how God would supply the needed funds.  The next day he went to the office and opened the letter from Central Presbyterian Church, enclosing a check—$700, almost to the penny.

Friends, with the eyes of the Enlightenment, which see only material things, we might think it a coincidence that our check exactly matched their need.  But when we have faith, it changes the way we see the world.  With eyes of faith we can see that the Spirit of God was at work in each of your hearts as you made your personal decisions about how much to give in our Peacemaking Offering.  The Spirit was at work several years ago when our presbytery persuaded our national Presbyterian denomination to designate HIV/AIDS organizations as appropriate recipients of Peacemaking funds.  The Spirit was moving among our Mission Committee members when they recommended this gift and in the session when they approved it.  Through the eyes of faith we see not a coincidence but the loving hand of God working through people of faith.   

Beginning today, we embark upon the public planning phase of our first-ever church-wide capital campaign.  The economy temporarily may be anemic, but our faith and love and purpose are strong.  With eyes of faith we can see the children that will be taught, the families that will be raised, the community that will flourish, the gospel that will be preached, and the lives that will be turned around for years to come because we are answering the call to repair and refurbish this gracious and well-loved old structure.  If we mean to stay in this place—and you have said repeatedly that you do—we have a responsibility to keep our building functional, accessible, and inviting—a witness for Jesus in the heart of Terre Haute.  Although the leading economic indicators may make us cry, “Alas, master! What shall we do?”, the eyes of faith see arrayed on our side the chariots and horses of fire.  Some of you have been saving for years, waiting for this day to come.  Some of you, like Amanda and me, are newer to the project.  The gifts of some, due to layoffs or other current financial distress, necessarily will be limited—although they can still participate in significant ways.  Others who are still working and who have assets to give will need to consider whether, through personal sacrifice, they can make up the difference.  All of us, if we use our eyes of faith, will make a significant gift—not equal amounts, but equal sacrifice.  And our sacrifice will become our witness and our legacy to future generations.

In the coming weeks we will have ample opportunity to consider as a congregation how a refurbished building will help us extend our ministry in this place.  I hope that some exciting new ideas come out of our Visioning Workshop.  We are the beneficiaries of those who have made sacrifices in the past, and now we will have an opportunity to take our place in the long line of Christians at Central.  Like Elijah passing the mantle of his leadership and prophetic spirit to his successor Elisha, those generations now pass their hopes and dreams to us.  But there is something more important and more immediate for each of us.  True, we have a current responsibility for mission and a present responsibility to past and future generations, but as each of us responds generously in support of this project, the greatest benefit of all will be to us, personally.  The prophetic reality behind our project is that we are not building a building, but rather we are building our own faith.  Just as an athlete must use a muscle in order for it to grow larger and more powerful, we must use our faith—and act upon it—if it is to grow stronger.  So in the deepest sense we give because we need to give, and all the rest is a happy byproduct.

So, lift your eyes of faith.  There are more with us than there are with them.  No matter what it may look like, we outnumber them.  God now calls us to action.

I’d like to ask Jim Graham to come up here now so that I can introduce him to all of you.  Jim is with Cargill and Associates who have vast experience in helping churches grow in faith as they achieve their financial goals.  Jim and Cargill are confident that we can do this, and they will be our partners and guides on the journey.  Very briefly Jim wants to outline the campaign for you and to tell how you can participate and make it successful.  That process begins right here, today.  Jim . . .