Today is the last weekend before Lent.  This Tuesday, in cities like New Orleans and Cologne and Rio de Janeiro, the season of remembrance of our Lord's suffering will be ushered in with much revelry.  Mardi Gras is the French name for Shrove Tuesday, the day before Ash Wednesday when Lent begins.  In the Middle Ages the custom of merry making began as a time for people to blow off steam before the church's time of abstinence and piety.  Today Mardi Gras carnivals are still a time to have fun.  The sad thing is that probably more people today know out Mardi Gras than they do about Lent.

          At times, we people seem to have to get things out of our system, to vent and puff, whether in anger or at a ball game or in our partying.  Once over with, we feel better.  Those around us may have paid a price, but we seem to feel better, at least for awhile.  Lent today is not a time of long-faced piety, but a time to remember Christ, His love for us, and what He did to earn our salvation.

          This year's Lent theme for our midweek worship services will be the Lord's Prayer.  Each week the message will reflect one of the petitions of this great prayer from Christ.  I invite you to pause each Wednesday, and take time to share a soup supper with fellow members at 6 PM, and then worship and reflect on this greatest of prayers.

          This Sunday is also called Transfiguration Sunday, when we remember Christ's revelation to the disciples on Mt. Tabor.  Near the end of His ministry, Jesus took Peter, James and John for a walk up a little mountain, a 500 ft. high bump on the plains south of Galilee, to show them His true glory as Son of God.  He shined like the sun and stars as He spoke with Elijah and Moses.  It was so great the disciples wanted to stay up there.  "Let's build some tents," Peter said.  But life is not lived on mountain tops, but on the plain.  Down where the people live, that's where the real action is.  Mountain top experiences are good, but the real work goes on down below.

          Whenever this New Testament story from Jesus' life is recounted, it's usually coupled to this Old Testament story about Elijah and Elisha.  Elijah's life work was completed.  Being God's spokesman had not been easy, and he was ready to go.  Though he'd soon be taken from the earth, he wanted to walk these last miles alone, but Elisha, his chosen successor, would not hear of it.  He didn't want to leave his master, so he spent every last moment with him.

          Their last days together involved a lot of walking, from Gilgal to Bethel to Jericho to the Jordan River - maybe a hundred miles.  Elijah's last official duty was to down fire on some pagan soldiers and pronounce God's fatal judgment against the Samaritan king.  Elijah was not a man to trifled with!  He never stopped acting against sin.  His life as a prophet was no fun.  He spoke the truth and was usually hated for it.  He spoke God's judgment and was feared.  No one invited Elijah out for lunch.  They never knew if they'd survive to pay the bill or not!

          But Elisha was not afraid of Elijah.  Indeed, something in this old prophet provoked only admiration and respect.  He loved the old man and wanted to walk with him as much as he could before he left.  So he followed him around, hoping against hope that he wouldn't go.

          There is something about a young man's admiration for an older man, something that seems lost today.  All people, but especially young men, need someone to emulate, a role model, someone to mentor them, someone to walk beside.  Elijah was not your typical male role model.  He virtually breathed the Lord's fire, but to Elisha pyrotechnics were no deterrent.  He had walked with the old man of God for months, and he wanted him to walk with him yet awhile.

          You almost get the idea Elisha was worried what might happen if Elijah left.  Would Baal worship take over again?  Ahab and Jezebel were dead, but would another king and queen come who were just as bad?  Elijah represented deterrence.  His power kept the wolves at bay.  What would happen when he was gone?  What would become of the dwindling band of prophets now that their leader was leaving them?

          Worry is a wolf, you know.  It lurks here and there in the shadows, its shining eyes menacing us.  You hear its howls, but can't find where they come from.  Sometimes the wolf of worry jumps out at us in terror, but usually he's out there, just out of reach, waiting to pounce when we're not ready for him.  Or so we think!  But it's enough to make us worry and worry...

          Some time ago a heavy fog settled over a seaside town in Maine.  It covered only a small area, about 7 city blocks, about 100 feet high.  But it blanketed everything for an hour, causing several accidents.  People panicked because they couldn't see a foot in front of their faces.  Scientists later stated the amount of water in that seven-block fog blanket was composed of just a quart of water.  A quart of water fogged in a whole neighborhood!

          If all the things we worry about were reduced to their true size, they'd probably all fit into a quart jar.  While this may be hard to remember when we're engulfed in a fog of worry, it may help put things into perspective.  Worry saps our energies and serves no purpose.  Worry is a form of fear, and fear is the opposite of faith.  The antidote to fear is faith in Jesus Christ, the Son of God who gave Himself for us.  Hebrews 11:1 says, "Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."  Faith is the key that opens the door when God knocks.

          Another antidote to worry is love.  1 John 4:18 says, "Perfect love drives out all fear."  Despite the fact that we live with relatively little violence or uncertainty, too many of us still live like we're drowning in a sea of fear.  We spend more time worrying about what bad things might happen instead of working to make good things happen.

          Elisha walked with his master, and the walk was getting short.  At each stop, his fellow prophets reminded him of what he didn't want to hear.  "Did you know the Lord is going to take your master from you today?"  Yes, I know," said Elisha, "And I don't want to talk about it." (verse 5).   There are some things we'd just rather not be reminded of, no matter how real they are - like moving away, going in for chemo, having a court appearance, paying taxes, taking a big test, reading a speech - all these may be necessary, but all can be unpleasant, even terrifying.  Reality can have a sharp edge on it.  Yes, Elijah was going away, but Elisha didn't want to hear of it.

          The Bible says no matter what Elijah said, Elisha wouldn't leave him even for a moment.  But why do we hold on, when we know we must let go?  Leo Buscaglia, author and lecturer on human relationships, wrote that when his mother was dying, he stayed at her side every moment.  Finally, she grabbed his hand, looked at him and said, "Leonardo, what you holding on to?"  It was then, he said, that he knew he had to let her go.

          Yes, what are we holding on to?  And what was Elisha holding on to?  Whatever it was, he had to let go when the chariot of fire came down from the sky.  Elisha stood there dumbfounded, and like Peter seeing Moses and Elijah with Jesus, babbled words that made sense only if you were there.  "My father, the chariots and horsemen of Israel!"  And then Elisha was alone, holding his master's cloak and facing a new life before him.

          What Elisha did next determined the rest of his life.  He rolled up his master's cloak, slapped the waters of the Jordan, and walked through on dry ground.  He headed out for a new life, using his master's power along the way.  He began walking with Elijah, and ended up walking with God.  Not a bad lesson!  Walking with God that started by walking with a man of God.

          Who are you walking with?  How about walking together with the Lord?  He walked the way of sorrows for us, the way to the cross of Calvary.  Along the way He carried His cross so that we might have help carrying ours.  He even carries us when we are weary, helping us along the way, the Son of God helping the children of humanity, brothers and sisters in Christ who need forgiveness.  He gives us His power of love, His cloak of forgiveness.  With it we can strike down any obstacle along the way.  With it, we can walk through raging rivers on dry ground.

          Six year-old Brandon wanted to give his Mom and Dad something special, so he decided to make them a pancake breakfast.  He reached for a big bowl for making pancakes, but tipped over the flour cannister.  He scooped some off the floor in the bowl, mixed in some milk and sugar, spilling a little here and there.  Then he broke some eggs into the batter, leaving only just a few shells in.  By this time he was leaving tracks across the floor, and he was getting frustrated.  This was harder than he'd thought!  When he saw his kitten licking the batter, he jumped to push her away and knocked the egg carton on the floor.  Frantically he tried to clean it up and got his pajamas all sticky.  He didn't know what to do next, and just then he saw his Dad standing in the doorway.  And Brandon started to cry.  He knew he was really going to get it, probably a spanking.  And Brandon did get it.  His Dad came over to him, picked him up and gave him a great big hug, getting his own pajamas all messy in the process.  His Dad loved him anyway.

          That's us and that's God.  We try to do something good in life, but it turns into a mess.  But God to pick us up and loves us, even though He gets all messy in the process.  He forgives even our worst mistakes.  And He tells us just because we make a mess, we can't stop trying to make pancakes, for Him or for others.  Sooner or later we'll get it right.  God grant it to be sooner.  Amen.

Copyright © 2003 by Pastor Bob Tasler.  All rights reserved.