Proper 8 – Year C
Sermon Notes from the Church’s Ministry Among Jewish People
RCL Readings[1] – II Kings 2:1-2, 6-14; Psalm 77:1-2, 11-20; Galatians 5:1, 13-25; Luke 9:51-62
ACNA Readings – I Kings 19:15-21; Psalm 16; Galatians 5:1, 13-25; Luke 9:51-62
Seasonal Introduction. This season is often called “Ordinary Time,” a term derived from ordinal, meaning “numbered” or “in sequence.” However, there is nothing ordinary about this time. Rather, it is a time when we may reflect on how God (starting on Trinity Sunday and ending with Christ the King Sunday) has been at work in our own lives, the lives of his people, and how he will continue to work in the days to come. Ordinary Time is a season when we are invited to perceive the mystery of God at work in our daily lives, in the ordinary, in the mundane.
Common Theme. The readings focus on the difficulty of being a disciple. However, while being a true disciple may be hard, God is gracious to those who call out to Him. He will listen to our cries and empower us to walk after Him.
Hebraic Context. In the popular imagination, Israel is often seen as a vast wilderness—shaped by images of desert wanderings, the Dead Sea, and the barren Judean wilderness. This perception may have been shaped by 19th century European explorers who described the Ottoman Levant as desolate—lacking trees, plagued by disease, and largely uninhabited. Conversely, others view Israel as the Holy Land—a land flowing with milk and honey—and surely it must be filled with natural and historic wonders.
The reality is that Israel is not a single, uniform land. Both culturally and geographically Israel is incredibly diverse. That is certainly true today but was no less true 2,000-3,000 years ago. The country spans a range of climatic zones: from Mediterranean to arid and semi-arid, from montane to the subtropical. In the North, Mediterranean forests can thrive and the great cedars of Lebanon lie just across the border while in the rift valley (which includes the Dead Sea and Jordan river) the land has flora more akin to a Sudanian climatic zone.
The geographical and geological division of the land is often seen in the Scriptures where cultures and nations clash. The hill-dwelling Israelites in Judah fought against the coastal Philistines for control of valleys that provided agricultural wealth. The Northern Israelites and Southern Judeans fought over control of the trade routes that ran through Benjamin to the east and along the coast to Egypt and Mesopotamia.
There is also the land beyond the Jordan. While several of the tribes of Israel settled on the East side of the Jordan, it was not part of the land God had promised Abraham.[2] This is the traditional land of Edom, Moab, and Ammon—descendants of Lot and Ishmael. These nations were often at war with Judah and Israel. Elijah likely grew up in the tribal land of Gad, which Moab often fought with. Just before Elijah and Elisha cross over to the land of Moab II Kings states that “after the death of Ahab, Moab rebelled against Israel.” The Mesha Stele, a Moabite victory monument likely written shortly after Elijah was taken up to heaven, specifically mentions Moab’s war with the people of Gad and their victory over Omri’s son (the Omride dynasty, including Ahab and his family).
In the time leading up to the 1st century, several conflicts developed between Judah and both the Idumeans and the Samaritans. After the Babylonian exile, the Idumeans (Edomites) moved into and took control of parts of the southern Judean hill country and the Negev. Major trade routes—including the Trans-Arabian trade network (which would later be part of the so-called Silk Road) and the Incense and Spice Route—ran through Idumean-controlled territories in the south, including parts of ancient Edom and southern Judah. The Hasmonean kings of Judah fought and partially conquered this land. However, the conflict continued into the Roman period as King Herod, an Idumean, was made king over Judah and the Jewish people.
Meanwhile, the conflict between the Judeans and Samaritans also resulted in war as the Hasmoneans and Samaritans fought and the Judeans burned the Samaritan temple in the region of Manasseh on Mount Gerizim. When Jesus traveled through their territory with His face set to go to Jerusalem and the Judean temple, it would cause great anger among the locals.
II Kings 2:1-2, 6-14. Elijah, one of the two great prophets who Jesus would meet on the mountain of transfiguration, was about to depart the world in a whirlwind and flaming chariot. His impending departure seems to have been widely known in the prophetic community—whether through divine revelation or cultural understanding—as the passage itself begins by stating, “When the Lord was about to take Elijah up to heaven.” Having fulfilled his commission to anoint Elisha as prophet in his place, the time had come for Elisha to succeed him as Elijah left this world.
At first, Elijah attempted to distance himself from Elisha, but Elisha refused to leave his master’s side. Though the rabbi-disciple model as it developed in the Second Temple period had not yet taken form, Elisha acted as a true disciple: loyal, present, and committed, even in his master’s final moments.[3] Had he not followed Elijah from Bethel to Jericho and then across the Jordan, he would not have seen his master’s departure and thus would not have received the double portion of Elijah’s spirit.
Their journey began in Gilgal and continued to Bethel, both of which held deep spiritual and historical meaning. Although there were several places called Gilgal, the most likely location is the Gilgal in Samuel’s regular circuit between Bethel, Gilgal, and Mizpah. Bethel—where Jacob saw the heavenly ladder and where Samuel once judged—appears to have hosted a school of prophets in Elijah’s day.
With so many prophets in Israel and even schools of prophets, God chose Elisha, who seems to be neither a prophet nor the son of a prophet. We know that Bethel was also co-opted by Jeroboam I to be a place of worship as a rival to Jerusalem. And so Bethel became a major centre of Israelite idolatry. Jehu, who would soon be anointed by Elisha, is particularly famous for continuing this practice of false worship in Bethel. Interestingly, the prophetic community at Bethel is not identified as among the seven thousand faithful God promised Elijah (1 Kings 19:18), nor is status as true or false prophets confirmed or denied.
As Elijah traveled to his presumed death, many prophets knew what would happen, for they told Elisha, “Do you know that today the LORD will take away your master from you?” But only one man crossed the Jordan into the enemy lands of Moab to accompany Elijah to his supposed death. Only after Elijah was taken away did the prophets dare cross the Jordan, and that to search for a body that would never be found. Despite being prophets and understanding, rightly, that Elijah would no longer be present, they seem to have assumed that Elijah would die, for after Elisha returned, they ignored his advice and insisted on searching for Elijah’s body.
Though easily overlooked, Elijah’s decision to cross the Jordan raises important questions about purpose, geography, and succession. Elijah’s mission was complete, and yet he traveled some distance to a country that had just rebelled against Israel.[4] Elijah, the Tishbite, was likely from a small Israelite village from Transjordan, but Moab is far south of Tishbi. One reason may have been to test Elisha—to see if he would follow and thereby receive the blessing of a double portion of Elijah’s spirit. This was also the land where Moses died.[5] It was here, where the successor of Elijah would follow in the footsteps of Moses’ successor, Joshua, in the miracle of the parting of the Jordan River.[6]
Psalm 77:1-2, 11-20. There is a famous saying: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”[7] But Psalm 77 reminds us that history serves more than just as a warning—it is a path to hope. When we are in distress, we must seek the Lord. This isn’t just because God is, or that He is powerful, or even because our troubles might be removed. It is that—as we look at history—we have the sure promise that God cares, that He loves, that He redeems, and saves (as well as that He is holy, and our creator, and the only true God).
Asaph,[8] in his anguish, turns to history to “remember the deeds of the LORD.” God demonstrates His holiness, His greatness, and God demonstrates His love towards us in what He does. There is a certainty that God will hear us as we seek the Lord, for He has demonstrated again and again that He hears us. For Asaph, the Exodus and crossing of the Reed Sea stand out in his time of need as a demonstration of both God’s power at work, His faithfulness expressed in action, and His desire to shepherd His people.
The Exodus makes for great poetic verse as Jeduthun led the worship for those entering the Temple—singing of God’s power displayed over all creation, both man and the elements. But there is also an understanding that the children of Israel were in Egypt for many generations. Asaph, as he cries out in the middle of the night, asks:
“Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable? Has his steadfast love forever ceased? Are His promises at an end for all time? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has He in anger shut up His compassion?”
These questions reflect real pain—but also point back to a known answer.
“The people of Israel groaned because of their slavery and cried out for help. Their cry for rescue from slavery came up to God. And God heard their groaning, and God remembered His covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob.”[9]
God’s promises were not at an end for all time. And when God hears and remembers, He is acting. God has proven, again and again, that He is neither silent, nor absent.
Galatians 5:1, 13-25. “The whole law is fulfilled in one word: ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself.’” This verse from Leviticus 19, along with Deuteronomy 6:5—“You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might”—is both famous and foundational within the Torah. Jesus, in the Sermon on the Mount, makes the exact same arguments found in Sirach 28:2-7, emphasizing reconciliation and forgiveness.[10] His declaration that the greatest commandment is Deuteronomy 6:5 and Leviticus 19:18 reflects a broader Jewish tradition; Hillel the Elder, for example, paraphrased Leviticus 19 in Shabbat 31a.6, calling it “the entire Torah, and the rest is its interpretation.”
The Torah commands us to love God and to love our neighbour. What should our freedom look like according to Paul? “Through love serve one another.” Galatians 5:2-12 does address circumcision as something the Galatians did not have to do, something agreed upon by the early Church regarding the Gentiles—predominantly the Jewish disciples and apostles of Jesus.[11] But Paul continues by declaring the things we ought not to do, those things which God has decried as being evil in His Torah, and the fruit of the Spirit, those things that God has repeatedly commanded Israel to obey.
Galatians 5:23 seems out of place when speaking of the law if the law that is being discussed is the Torah. The Torah never puts a boundary, or law, against the fruit of the Spirit. God’s desire that we love Him and love one another is clear and is, in fact, a law. Obviously there is no law against those things which God has commanded us to do. While some of the fruits of the Spirit may be difficult for us to fulfill, none of them come as a surprise as they are clearly delineated as Torah throughout Scripture.
The Scriptures speak of the Spirit working in our lives: when the Spirit is put within us, God will “cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules.”[12] Under this light, Paul’s statement that we are to “walk by the Spirit” and “keep in step with the Spirit” is not in contrast to the the Torah, for if we walk by the Spirit we simultaneously walk in His statutes and obey His judgements.
Luke 9:51-62. Luke 9:51 marks a turning point in Luke’s narrative. The first nine chapters focus on Jesus’ identity and ministry, but in Luke 9:51, Jesus begins His pilgrimage toward Jerusalem. Though He won’t arrive until Luke 19:41, this marks the beginning of His deliberate journey toward suffering and death. Luke’s narrative isn’t always chronological[13] but he uses the journey to share Jesus’ teaching on discipleship and the cost of discipleship—as well as the cost of turning away. The first account in His pilgrimage to Jerusalem is Jesus travelling through Samaria.
As Jesus approached a Samaritan village, He sent messengers ahead to make preparations. Today, if we are travelling and need a place to stay overnight, we can call ahead and make reservations in a hotel—hospitality is a large business industry. There were, of course, inns throughout the Roman Empire; however, we only see them being used once in the New Testament—and that within a parable.
In Luke 10:34, Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan to answer the question of whom we are required to love. The conclusion is that we are required to love even our enemies, for they too are our neighbours. Within that parable, the Samaritan pays for the injured Jewish man to stay at an inn (πανδοχειον, pandocheion). Hospitality as an industry was not common in Israel, but personal hospitality was far more widespread.
Whether it was relatives in Bethlehem offering hospitality to Joseph and Mary—filling the guest room (καταλυματα, katalymata) and even using the family’s workroom or animal stall[14] for their guests—or a stranger’s upper room where Jesus and His disciples celebrated the Passover, hospitality is part of the Middle East’s way of life.[15] Jesus sent His disciples out with this cultural expectation in mind: they were to stay where they were welcomed, receiving hospitality from those willing to offer it, or to request it when entering a town on His behalf.[16]
Astonishingly, the Samaritans did not offer any hospitality. Though hostility between Jews and Samaritans was well known—rooted in religion, politics, and history—even enemies were often expected to extend hospitality to travelers. In a land where daily water and shelter were necessities during long journeys, this rejection was both shocking and dangerous. And so James and John were indignant. They asked if they could call fire down from heaven and destroy the village. Thankfully, Jesus rebuked them and they travelled on to the next village. Ironically, in Acts 8, John (along with Peter) would be called back to a Samaritan village where he would call down power from heaven—but it would be the Holy Spirit falling on the Samaritans who gladly received the word of God.
Even as Jesus and the disciples were rejected in this village, a scribe[17] promised that he would be a faithful disciple: “I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus warned that He would not only face rejection from the Samaritans, but that He would receive no true hospitality throughout the journey He was undertaking—though Luke does record instances of people who were generous and hospitable to Jesus along the way.
From Luke 9 to 19, the call to follow Jesus is radical—and costly. He was walking toward His own death, and those who followed Him were called to be ready to do the same. Along the way, Jesus invited another man to become His disciple. The man responded that he needed to bury his father first—an act considered one of the highest forms of righteousness in Judaism.[18] According to tradition, burying the dead—even at the cost of becoming ritually unclean—took precedence over nearly every other commandment, even Sabbath observance. Yet Jesus told the man instead to go and proclaim the kingdom of God. Was Jesus asking him to act unrighteously? Not necessarily. There is an exception to the necessity of burying one’s parents: the one who takes a vow of separation to the LORD—a Nazirite—may not go and bury their dead.[19] Jesus seems to declare that becoming His disciple isn’t a trivial matter but similar to the choice of those who separate themselves to be Holy unto God.
A third man also offered to follow Jesus—but asked first to say farewell to his family. Elijah, when calling Elisha, allowed the newly called prophet to say farewell to his family. When read in light of Luke 9:61-62, Elisha’s desire to return home and say goodbye might seem inferior. However, no early Jewish sources condemn Elisha’s choice. Nonetheless, Jesus alludes to Elisha, one of the greatest of all prophets, and says that those who follow Him cannot turn away from the work before them.
Hebraic Perspective. In Matthew we find Jesus’ last words to His disciples, “Go and make disciples of all nations.” The Greek does not actually say “make disciples” in the sense of creating followers by force or formula. Rather, it uses a verb—mathēteusate—that emphasizes the process: “Go, disciple the nations.”
We cannot make a disciple any more than Jesus made disciples. Jesus didn’t simply accumulate followers; He called people into the demanding lifestyle of a disciple (תלמיד, talmid). He challenged them to choose carefully, “Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it? In the same way, anyone who does not forsake everything he has cannot be my disciple.”[20] “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.”[21]
While difficult, the Jewish people understood that obeying God’s word was vital and worth the cost. “For I command you today to love the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to Him, and to keep His commands… and the Lord your God will bless you. But if your heart turns away and you are not obedient… I declare to you this day that you will certainly be destroyed.”[22]
In order to know and obey God’s word, the Jews placed a high value on education. However, this education wasn’t just sitting in a room and reading a book. Exceptional students might be apprenticed to a great rabbi or sage. A Jewish sage was more than a teacher. He was a master, and the goal of a disciple was not just to learn Scripture, but to learn everything from the master by living with him and modeling himself on every aspect of the master’s life. “A disciple is not above his teacher but when fully trained will be like his teacher.” We also note that Jesus didn’t limit His choice to those considered the most exceptional by academic standards. Jesus extended an invitation to be a disciple to many and it was often the poor, the weak, and the outcast who accepted the invitation. Nathanael, traditionally, was the most knowledgeable of Jesus’ disciples regarding the Scriptures and yet he wasn’t one of the twelves Jesus chose to follow Him closely—although he remained a disciple of Jesus. Matthew was a tax collector while several of the Galileans, while still seemingly well-educated on Scripture, were still simple fishermen.
Pirkei Avot reminds us that a Jew was to honour his parents; a disciple, his master even more, “For his father brought him into this world, whereas his teacher who taught him wisdom brings him to the world-to-come.” Jesus’ words in Luke 14:26 seem harsh, but in this light they make more sense, “If any man comes to Me, and does not hate his own father and mother…even his own life, cannot be My disciple.”
Discipleship to Jesus is something that each person must decide for himself after counting the cost; but not only the cost of self-denial, also the cost of rejecting God’s way. Though it may feel daunting to deny oneself and follow Jesus in our daily life, the reward is not just life someday—it is joy now. As Jesus said, “The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field…” For those who truly see its value, no cost is too high.”[23]
ACNA Readings
I Kings 19:15-21. Elijah is scared and despondent. His complaint is that “the people of Israel have forsaken your covenant… and killed your prophets with the sword, and I, even I only, am left, and they seek my life, to take it away.” God responds to Elijah’s despair not with rebuke, but with a renewed commission: to anoint Hazael, Jehu, and Elisha. Hazael was an enemy of Israel, from Aram-Damascus, and would judge Israel—those who had forsaken God’s covenant and murdered God’s prophets. Jehu would become the King of Israel, defeat the Omride dynasty of Ahab and Jezebel, and remove Baal worship from Israel.
In Hosea 1:4, God declares, “I will punish the house of Jehu for the blood of Jezreel, and I will put an end to the kingdom of the house of Israel”. This may come as a surprise as, in II Kings 10:30, God is pleased with Jehu’s judgment over the house of Ahab, “Because you have done well in carrying out what is right in my eyes, and have done to the house of Ahab according to all that was in My heart, your sons of the fourth generation shall sit on the throne of Israel.” However, while Jewish tradition allows a person to lie in order to save a life, Sanhedrin 102a.1-2 notes that Jehu lied (in order to judge and kill) and became caught up in his lie.[24] While Jehu was anointed to judge, and even to destroy, and accomplished what God had anointed him to do, he chose to turn away from God and follow in the footsteps of the kings before him. In destroying Jezebel and Baal, Jehu did not restore the worship of God. Instead, he encouraged the cultic worship of the golden calves. And So Hosea notes that, even in his obedience to God in one point, Jehu was still found guilty.[25]
Finally, Elisha would also judge—but there was also hope. Hazael would act as an instrument of judgment, but remain Israel’s enemy. Jehu would carry out destruction, but not restoration. But Elisha would become a partner in God’s ongoing covenant work—serving the people, proclaiming God’s word, and standing with Elijah. Elijah would no longer be the only prophet to serve God in Israel.
Of course, Elijah wasn’t the only one acting. While Elijah would anoint three people, God would preserve 7,000 who would serve God alongside Elijah and Elisha.[26] Not all the people of Israel would forsake God and the covenant. Not all the prophets would be killed. And, while there might be some who would want to kill Elijah, Elijah’s work had not been in vain—there were many who only bowed to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
Psalm 16.[27] David likely wrote the psalm during one of his times of troubles, as it begins with a call for preservation.[28] He identifies two types of people: those who declare to God, “You are my Lord,” and those who run after other gods. David was often pursued by enemies, he needed to take refuge in God. David needed a refuge because of his enemies, yet in Psalm 16, he also acknowledged all the good in his life—and recognized that all of it came from God.
David knew God as “my Lord.” Yes, God was the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—the LORD who met Moses at the burning bush, the God of Boaz and Samuel. But God was not merely a historical figure from the past; He was active in David’s life: preserving him, granting him an inheritance, providing counsel, and showing him the path of life.
David also declared his exclusive loyalty to God. Many recognized God, at least as a god. But David relied only on the LORD—he needed no other gods. In ancient Israelite culture, it was common to keep “hearth gods,” deities to whom one could appeal for specific needs: Baal might send rain, Tammuz might bring a fruitful grain harvest and fertility, and Astarte might grant success in love or war if the proper offerings were made. There is an important distinction between knowing God and setting the LORD always before us.
David, in Psalm 16:10, declared his belief that he would not remain in Sheol. While the full understanding of the resurrection and world-to-come did not seem to be well known in David’s time, several times he seems to have referred to life beyond that on this earth.[29] Paul, in Acts 13:35, reminded his listeners that the idea of resurrection was not foreign to Jewish teaching—God’s power to raise the dead should not be surprising. By the later Second Temple period, most of the Psalms were interpreted with at least some sense of messianic expectation, even if the psalm itself had no overt prophetic references.
While David seems to speak of himself in Psalm 16:10, Paul’s use of the verse in reference to Jesus’ resurrection would not have been unexpected—it aligned with the common interpretive practices of the time. David died, was buried, and saw decay. Therefore, Paul concluded, David was ultimately pointing forward to the Messiah—Jesus—who did not see corruption.
Endnotes
[1] Alternative RCL Readings: I Kings 19:15-16, 19-21; Psalm 16
[2] Moses, who was not allowed to enter the promised land, travelled to Mount Nebo—just across the
Dead Sea from Canaan. God allowed the tribes of Reuben, Gad, and Manasseh to make their homes in the land north of Moab and Ammon without condemning it, but it was still not part of God’s promise to Abraham.
[3] While Luke 9:62 may seem, at first, to be a condemnation of Elisha’s request to say goodbye to his family, as seen in I Kings 19:20-21, nowhere in Scripture or Jewish tradition is Elisha condemned for his actions. Instead, in referencing Elisha, Jesus provides a great example of someone who acted as a true disciple despite many other “prophets” telling him to turn back.
[4] II Kings 1:1
[5] Of interest is that the two prophets who met Jesus on the mountain of transfiguration both left this earth from Transjordan. This was not part of God’s promised land (else God would have lied when He said Moses would not enter the promised land) and yet the land of Israel’s enemy was still a place where God’s power could clearly be seen.
[6] As Elijah ascended, his coat fell to the ground and Elisha picked it up. When Elisha hit the water, the water separated to the right and to the left and Elisha crossed the river.
[7] George Santayana
[8] Psalm 77 may have been written by Asaph, one of his descendants, or someone from his school.
[9] Exodus 2:23-25
[10] Matthew 5:23-26; Matthew 6:9-14
[11] Acts 15:1-20
[12] Ezekiel 36:27, see also Jeremiah 31:31-34 regarding the new covenant and God’s law.
[13] Matthew 8:18-21, for instance, places the events of Luke 9:57-60 before the calming of the storm and the healing of the demoniacs while Jesus was still in the Jewish Galilee. Matthew’s account seems more logical for the chronology but Luke places the story to better convey the theme of the journey of discipleship.
[14] This may have been a cave where the animals were usually kept (as Bethlehem has a number of examples) or even part of the house itself.
[15] The Didache speaks of hospitality in the early church. On the one hand, hospitality should always be offered to travelling ministers, brothers, and sisters. On the other hand, one should never stay for more than three days and impose on those you stay with.
[16] This is the same hospitality that Jesus will show us as He went to heaven to “prepare a place” for us.
[17] Matthew 8:19
[18] Genesis 50:5-7; Tobit 1:16-17; Megillah 3b.7-10; Ketubot 103b.5
[19] A high priest was also not allowed to bury the dead, Leviticus 21:10-12.
[20] Luke 14:33
[21] Luke 9:23
[22] Deuteronomy 30:16-18
[23] Matthew 13:44
[24] II Kings 10:18-27
[25] Just as Assyria would judge Israel, but would be condemned for the manner in which they would do so. Isaiah 10:5-19
[26] Men such as Obadiah, according to I Kings 18:1-4. As well as, according to tradition, Obadiah’s widow after his death in II Kings 4:1-7.
[27] Psalm 16 is a Miktam of David, similar to Psalms 56-60. Unfortunately, we don’t know the meaning of the word miktam. The Septuagint doesn’t do much to elaborate the meaning as מכתם is translated simply as στηλογραφια (stylus and graphia). It could indicate that the Psalms were originally written on clay or stone rather than parchment.
[28] Psalms 56-60, the other miktam Psalms, were also Psalms written when David was in direct conflict or troubled by an enemy.
[29] Daniel 12:2 is one of the most complete understandings of the resurrection in the Tanakh. But others, like Hannah and David, also spoke of the resurrection in their prayers and worship.