Every tree that falls …

1 Kings 19:15-16, 19-21

Elijah says, Follow me

Then the LORD said to him, “Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus; when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael as king over Aram. Also you shall anoint Jehu son of Nimshi as king over Israel, and you shall anoint Elisha son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah as prophet in your place.”

So he set out from there and found Elisha son of Shaphat, who was ploughing. There were twelve yoke of oxen ahead of him, and he was with the twelfth. Elijah passed by him and threw his mantle over him. He left the oxen, ran after Elijah, and said, “Let me kiss my father and my mother, and then I will follow you.” Then Elijah said to him, “Go back again, for what have I done to you?”

Elisha returned from following him, took the yoke of oxen, and slaughtered them; using the equipment from the oxen, he boiled their flesh and gave it to the people, and they ate. Then he set out and followed Elijah and became his servant.

Ps 16:6-7

The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; I have a goodly heritage.

On Thursday, my youngest daughter finished her last exam. We went out and had a Wagamama’s to celebrate, then slobbed on the sofa and watched back episodes of Traitors (Australia) – ah, living the dream!

It’s the end of an era. I no longer have school children. In a couple of months, she’ll be off to uni and there will be no more phone calls of “Mum, can you pick me up?” or rifling through my freezer in search of chicken nuggets.

Will I miss it? Of course I will. But every tree that falls drops seeds for another to grow. And sometimes we need to clear out the old growth to make room for the new.

Yesterday I went to Cambridge for a poignant service at my college: both celebrating 100 years of chapel worship on the appropriately-named Jesus Lane site, and saying goodbye as the college leaves for brickwork new.

I dropped a tear as I left the gentle serenity of the Arts and Crafts chapel, but I have to say, we did her proud. The final music at the final service was the Hallelujah Chorus and, instead of listening quietly, the whole packed chapel (additional seating down the aisle) rose and sang along. The garden party at Jesus College next door would have been in no doubt about who was just over the hedge!

Will I miss it? Of course I will. But every tree that falls drops seeds for another to grow. And sometimes we need to clear out the old growth to make room for the new.

Our passage in 1 Kings has a rather more high-stakes example of one tree falling and new one growing. Elijah is told to anoint the next king of Aram (slightly odd, but fine), and the next king of Israel (errr, that’s kinda dangerous given that the current king of Israel would gladly take an excuse to lop off Elijah’s head) and to anoint the next prophet to said king.

Wait, what?

I can image that Elijah doing a cartoon screech-stop at that point. “But Lord, isn’t that my job?”

It’s like being asked to interview someone to take over your role in a company – when you weren’t aware you were retiring.

The other OT passage, 2 Kings 2, sees the end of Elijah’s ministry as he’s taken to heaven in a chariot of fire and, although these events are only 4 chapters apart, the actual time between is several years while Israel’s kings duff up Ben-Hadad, squabble over a vineyard, and lose a whole fleet of ships in a BC version of the sinking of the Armada.

I wonder what Elijah thought of his servant-cum-protégé-cum-replacement over those years. Elisha certainly didn’t have a promising start. Just like the man whom Jesus called in Luke 9:59, Elisha wanted to first say goodbye to his family – possibly a euphemism for getting permission – but upon Elijah challenging him to choose which path he wanted to follow, Elisha decided which side his bread was buttered and nailed his colours to the mast (to mix my metaphors somewhat).

Mind you, I can understand Elisha’s reticence. God had blessed him where he was – with twelve yoke of oxen, Elisha’s family farm was clearly prosperous. It would be hard to leave the known good behind and move into the unknown good, however much he was called by God.

But Elisha decisively felled his old way of life as he chopped up his plough for firewood. In the space left, he grew to become something he would probably never have dreamed of.

And that got me thinking. Is there some good in my life that is getting in the way of a different good? God has blessed me where I am, but does God have a different blessing in mind, that I cannot see because I’m too contented here?

The good things in my life are gifts from God and I only have them temporarily. I need to learn to hold them loosely so that God can take away one thing in order to leave my hand free for something else. Sometimes we need to clear out the old growth to make room for the new.

Ultimately, do I trust God’s judgement as to what is best in the long term, or would I rather plan my own life based on what I (think I) know right now? Do I stick to ploughing with my fine team of oxen and inherit a valuable family farm, or do I throw it all out the window (to mix my metaphors again) and heigh off with some hairy old prophet?

We know Elisha’s answer. If I’m honest, I think I’d have stuck with the farm! (But I also think that God is kind and would have blessed Elisha either way.)

As Psalm 16 puts it, “The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.”

Whether you find yourself like a toppled tree, or staring at a bare space and wondering whatever could grow there, or stepping nervously into that space hoping you’re not going to make a total idiot of yourself, fear not. Nothing is a surprise to God and, yes you probably will make a total idiot of yourself – such is the lot of humans – but God will still love you.

And remember: every tree that falls drops seeds for another to grow.