Tough Bonds to Break 2 Kings 2:1-12 Rev. Matt Nieman February 18, 2018 In the class I ve been leading on Sunday mornings, we just concluded a series that examines some of the themes of faith in popular movies over the last few decades. Last Sunday, we viewed clips from two popular animated films in recent years. One of them was the movie Up, from 2009. The film is about an old, crusty protagonist named Carl, a retired balloon salesman. As the movie opens, Carl as a young boy dreams of a world of adventure. There follows a four-minute scene, without words, in which Carl meets, falls in love with, marries, and loses Ellie, the love of his life. It s a remarkably tender sequence that shows Carl and Ellie as they build their life together, enjoy many beautiful years, suffer one great sadness (no children), grow old, and dream of a trip of a lifetime to Paradise Falls in South America. They postpone their dream trip for too long, however. Ellie gets sick and dies, and Carl is left alone as a broken man. The scene is an emotional one, bringing tears to the eyes of many viewers. The bond between Carl and Ellie is a powerful one, but one not unlike those of many long-time married couples including ourselves and many others we know. I am blessed and privileged to conduct the funerals for many older people, who leave behind spouses who are left broken by the loss of their beloved husband or wife. In their sadness, though, there is also gratitude for the cherished years and decades two people have had together. In the movie, and following Ellie s death, Carl becomes acquainted with another person who goes on to forge a remarkable bond with Carl. He s a boy named Russell, who happens to be an adventure scout looking to fulfill a requirement for one of his merit badges. Russell s goal is to help an elderly person in some way to fulfill this requirement. And so he knocks on Carl s door. And Carl eventually warms to Russell.
Much of the movie is built on the evolving bond between the two of them. Carl s feelings about Russell move from resentment to tolerance to friendship to fatherly love. Russell becomes Carl s new partner in his one great adventure trip to Paradise Falls. And so Carl is blessed to have had the great bond of a lifetime with Ellie his wife and then with a boy whom he initially viewed as an annoyance but who grew to become an adventure partner. The bonds we have with one another in many forms and variations are gifts to us from God. In this text from 2 Kings today, we get another glimpse of an unbreakable bond, of great devotion and loyalty. It exists between two prophets two men who were more then fellow prophets. They were friends one the mentor and the other the pupil. Elijah and his protégé successor, Elisha, are traveling from Gilgal to an unknown destination. The narrative is introduced with the words, Now when the Lord was about to take Elijah up to heaven by a whirlwind. Clearly, a separation is about to take place. The mantle is about to be passed to the younger Elisha. Three times, Elijah tells Elisha to remain where he is so that he can follow God s command to go to different places. And three times, Elisha has the same response: As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you. Three times Elisha could have gone his own way and been about the business of what God had in store for him, but he would not leave his mentor and friend. Elisha loved Elijah, so much so that when they finally crossed the Jordan River, Elijah asks what he can do for Elisha before he s taken into heaven. Elisha responds by asking for a double portion of Elijah s spirit. Elisha wanted to have Elijah apart of him for the remainder of his lifetime. That s how strong their bond was. They were completely devoted to each other; their friendship and common purpose were marked by extreme loyalty and devotion.
Elijah and Elisha had a bond that would remain even in Elijah s transition to another life. There are handfuls of people we would put into that same camp the people we would go anywhere with and do anything for, the people of which we want to take a portion with us and have it remain in us and motivate us long after they have gone into the next life. We want the kind of boldness and perseverance that these friends, mentors, or partners displayed. We want their spirit to fuel our spirit. When we finish Cub Scouts and go into Boy Scouts, we want to take the wisdom and guidance of our Cub Scouts leaders with us. When we finish Boy Scouts and maybe even become an Eagle Scout, we want to take the advice and example of our troop leaders with us to our next adventure. As mentors, we want to share a part of ourselves with those whom we mentor; we hope and pray that those younger than us the ones we will probably have to say goodbye to will remember us and take with us something good we tried to teach them. Dropping that kindergartner off at school for the first time is hard, and we hope our youngster will take a piece of us with them into their first classroom. Or the graduate marching down the aisle in cap and gown; we hope they ll take a lesson or two we, their parents, tried to teach them and use it to succeed. Or a grandson or granddaughter walking down the aisle at his or her wedding; we hope they ll remember their grandparents and come home to see us now and then. Or that Cub Scout or Boy Scout we hope and pray that those many Tuesday nights or Thursday nights here at the church working on merit badges will someday pay off for those kids in ways by which they ve gained greater skills and self-confidence. These are the kinds of bonds we have and want with those close to us, whether we are partners, mentors, or family members. When we must transition away from someone we have a special bond with, it s often the case that their spirits always do live within us.
In a fairy tale riddle entitled The Magic Mirror by Kristen R. Morsy (Cricket, 8 April 1981), a troll asks a boy named John to name the strongest bond in the world. John thought and thought. He said to himself, If my brother the sailor was to guess this riddle, he would say the strongest bond in the world is the horizon. It joins the sky and sea together and gives us our place in the world. If my brother the farmer was to guess this riddle, he would say the strongest bond in the world is the rainbow. It joins the rain and sun together so that the crops can grow. But I guess the strongest bond in the world is the bond of love. Not even death can destroy it. Indeed, it is love, created by God and exemplified in Jesus Christ s death and resurrection that binds us together with those we don t ever want to leave. Kenneth Feinberg is an attorney and was appointed by the U.S. Congress to oversee the disbursement of millions of dollars to the families of the victims of the terrorist attacks on our country on September 11, 2001. For families to receive such compensation, they had to fill out a lot of paperwork describing their loved one who was lost and the lost income they would incur due to their loved one s death. They were also required to have a hearing in front of Feinburg and his associates before a decision would be made on how much money a family would receive for their suffering. This is what Feinberg wrote about that hearing process in a book he wrote about the experience in 2005. Such testimonies [at the application hearings] provided me with a new perspective, a new appreciation for the powerful impact of love on the day-to-day experiences of family members whose lives were forever altered on 9/11. Love proved to be a powerful force among 9/11 families. It bound families together. It reinforced bonds that may have been frayed by the tragedy. It became obvious to all of us working on the fund that love was often all that survivors could cling to, a life preserver in their efforts through each day. They had been left behind, but they had been left behind with powerful reserves of love. This love could reinforce their resolve, provide them
a compass for living. It could give them a reason for moving on. When I was a young child in Brockton, Massachusetts, my mother told me that tears are the price of love. Decades later, I witnessed firsthand how grief and love were woven together and how love could overcome the most formidable of obstacles. During the hearings, expressions of love seemed to trump all other human emotions, including fear, grief and anger at the crimes committed. These stories of love often helped me through the day, when hearing after hearing stretched late into the night. At times, I doubted the wisdom of this approach. Were the hearings such a good idea? Why not just issue the awards on the basis of the claim forms and supporting documentation? Why dredge up all this emotion and place it on display in the hearing room? But when I wavered in my thinking, a family would enter the hearing room and express a love toward the victim so overwhelming and selfless it renewed my faith and determination to carry on. I went home at night and hugged my wife and children with a new intensity, ready to conduct more hearings the next day. The love these victims have for their lost loved ones is only possible because of a God who first loved us. A God who so deeply loved us that he gave his only son. A God who desires to mentor and watch over us much like Carl looked after Russell in that entertaining movie from a few years back. The bonds which we have bonds that cause us to carry with us a portion or two of another s spirit inside us after we have departed remain strong, despite all kinds of obstacles, due to this love. Thank God for it. When all else seems lost, the love that makes for unbreakable bonds remains.