A Transfer of Power? Relfections from 2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14, Pentecost 3, Year C
by John C. Holbert on Saturday, May 3, 2025
There is something both delightful and disconcerting about the end of the life of Elijah and the beginning of the work of his successor, Elisha. The tales attributed to the two prophets are at times quite similar, but at other times quite sharply different. I have long wondered about these differences, imagining that the sources that kept the two traditions alive presented very diverse outlooks on the work and impact of prophecy. Though Elijah begins his work with predictions and alleviation of drought, by raising the dead son of a poor widow, by besting the prophets of Baal in a grandly dramatic scene on Mt. Carmel, and then running for his very life from the terror of Jezebel and her promised personal assault against him and meeting YHWH on the sacred mountain of Horeb, the God who gives him a direct assignment to return to Damascus and engage in the messiness of politics (1 Kings 17-19), Elisha is portrayed in other ways. Elijah even wades in the waters of justice, accusing King Ahab of expropriating a piece of land by having the owner murdered, with the collusion of that same Jezebel (1 Kings 21).
Elisha’s work appears in other guises. For example, after the disappearance of Elijah in his fiery chariot, Elisha is said to perform two miracles. The first has to do with water, not unlike Elijah’s great work with the drought, but here the deed is quite small, having to do with the request of a city with a bad water source; Elisha sweetens the water by throwing salt from a new bowl into it, thus making it “wholesome to this day,” says 2 Kings 2:22. This is not a bad miracle, but seems somehow paltry over against Elijah’s country-wide alleviation of a three-year drought. The second miracle is downright repulsive, leading to no end of dark Bible humor. On the way to Bethel, a most sacred shrine in the northern kingdom of Israel, Elisha is accosted by some rowdy small boys from the city who mock the prophet, “Go away, baldy—Go away, baldy!” (2 Kings 2:23) The text makes it plain that these are merely “small boys,” rather prone to making fun of adults but who are not then to be taken with deep seriousness. Unfortunately, the prophet Elisha is profoundly offended by the boys’ comments, is finally so rankled that “he cursed them in the name of YHWH, and two she bears came out of the forest and sliced open 42 of the boys” (2 Kings 2:24). Thus is the power of this prophet used to assault a large number of small children in revenge for verbal abuse. What are we to make of that?
2 Kings 2 begins with a lengthy and rather humorous dialogue between Elisha, the companion of the great Elijah, and “the company of the prophets,” apparently disciples of Elijah as the older prophet moves toward the end of his earthly time. The company moves over some distance in the land, from Bethel to Jericho to the River Jordan. During all these travels, Elijah insists that Elisha “stay here,” while Elijah moves as commanded by YHWH, but Elisha refuses and goes with Elijah to each place. Every time that Elisha goes with Elijah, the company of the prophets says, “Do you know that today YHWH will take your master away from you?” (NRSV), but the literal Hebrew has the last words “from off your head.” Might that mean that YHWH is about to remove Elijah as the controller of Elisha’s prophetic life and destiny? No longer will Elijah call the shots of Elisha’s work. And each time that is said, Elisha offers a sharp reply, “Yes, I know. Shut up!” (2 Kings 2:3,5). What sort of relationship between the two men of God does this interchange imply? Is Elisha restive about Elijah’s superior power? When the other prophets name Elijah Elisha’s “master,” does Elisha resent the implication that he is somehow not up to snuff, not fully capable of succeeding Elijah in the work?
Finally, when Elijah asks Elisha what “he might do for him before he is taken,” Elisha’s response suggests that he knows all too well that he is not Elijah’s equal: “Let there be now a double portion of your spirit for me” (2 Kings 2:9). This seems to say two things: I know I am not as potent as you are, so I insist that you make me twice as powerful! Little wonder that Elijah is clearly reluctant to accede to the request. “This is a very hard request; ok, if you see me being taken from you, let it be so, but if not, it will not be” (2 Kings 2:10). Elisha does see the amazing fiery chariot and flaming horses that carry Elijah to the sky, and thus is granted, apparently, the power to become Elijah’s heir. Yet, one more scene again calls that succession into question.
Elisha picks up the fallen prophetic mantle of the departed Elijah, strikes the river Jordan with it, and the waters part, just as Elijah had done previously. This causes the company of the prophets to say, “The spirit of Elijah rests on Elisha,” and so we might easily assume. However, though Elisha just saw Elijah taken up to the sky, when the other prophets come to him, they ask if 50 of them might go and look for Elijah who, they fear, might have been thrown by YHWH’s spirit onto some mountain or into some valley (2 Kings 2:16). But Elisha knows all too well that that is not true; Elijah has gone to be with YHWH. He first rightly says to them, “No, do not send them.” But, “they urged him until he was ashamed” (2 Kings 2:17). That is a fascinating phrase. Due to “shame” Elisha allows the other prophets to search fruitlessly for Elijah, and when they return empty-handed, Elisha says (haughtily, ashamedly?) “Did I not say to you, Do not go?” (2 Kings 2:18). Of what is Elisha ashamed that would force him to send those men on a ridiculous search that Elisha knows will be a hopeless waste of time? I suggest that Elisha is not a fully committed prophet, uncertain of his power, unable to take the authority of his master. The reluctance of Elijah was overcome in his later great deeds of prophecy. I am less certain that Elisha will be able to overcome his too obvious shortcomings. The Hebrew Bible once again has offered to us a rich human portrait of great figures who remain all too human just the same. Such portraiture is endemic in these texts, and creates wonderful opportunities for exploration of our own humanity in the light of theirs.