Radical Generosity (MTKA)

2 Kings 4:8–37

One day Elisha was passing through Shunem, where a wealthy woman lived, who urged him to have a meal. So whenever he passed that way, he would stop there for a meal. She said to her husband, “Look, I am sure that this man who regularly passes our way is a holy man of God. Let us make a small roof chamber with walls, and put there for him a bed, a table, a chair, and a lamp, so that he can stay there whenever he comes to us.” One day when he came there, he went up to the chamber and lay down there. He said to his servant Gehazi, “Call the Shunammite woman.” When he had called her, she stood before him. He said to him, “Say to her, since you have taken all this trouble for us, what may be done for you? Would you have a word spoken on your behalf to the king or to the commander of the army?” She answered, “I live among my own people.” He said, “What then may be done for her?” Gehazi answered, “Well, she has no son, and her husband is old.” He said, “Call her.” When he had called her, she stood at the door. He said, “At this season, in due time, you shall embrace a son.” She replied, “No, my lord, O man of God; do not deceive your servant.” The woman conceived and bore a son at that season, in due time, as Elisha had declared to her.

When the child was older, he went out one day to his father among the reapers. He complained to his father, “Oh, my head, my head!” The father said to his servant, “Carry him to his mother.” He carried him and brought him to his mother; the child sat on her lap until noon, and he died. She went up and laid him on the bed of the man of God, closed the door on him, and left. Then she called to her husband, and said, “Send me one of the servants and one of the donkeys, so that I may quickly go to the man of God and come back again.” He said, “Why go to him today? It is neither new moon nor sabbath.” She said, “It will be all right.”

Then she saddled the donkey and said to her servant, “Urge the animal on; do not hold back for me unless I tell you.” So she set out, and came to the man of God at Mount Carmel. When the man of God saw her coming, he said to Gehazi his servant, “Look, there is the Shunammite woman; run at once to meet her, and say to her, Are you all right? Is your husband all right? Is the child all right?” She answered, “It is all right.” When she came to the man of God at the mountain, she caught hold of his feet. Gehazi approached to push her away. But the man of God said, “Let her alone, for she is in bitter distress; the Lord has hidden it from me and has not told me.” Then she said, “Did I ask my lord for a son? Did I not say, Do not mislead me?” He said to Gehazi, “Gird up your loins, and take my staff in your hand, and go. If you meet anyone, give no greeting, and if anyone greets you, do not answer; and lay my staff on the face of the child.” Then the mother of the child said, “As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave without you.” So he rose up and followed her.

Gehazi went on ahead and laid the staff on the face of the child, but there was no sound or sign of life. He came back to meet him and told him, “The child has not awakened.” When Elisha came into the house, he saw the child lying dead on his bed. So he went in and closed the door on the two of them, and prayed to the Lord. Then he got up on the bed and lay upon the child, putting his mouth upon his mouth, his eyes upon his eyes, and his hands upon his hands; and while he lay bent over him, the flesh of the child became warm. He got down, walked once to and fro in the room, then got up again and bent over him; the child sneezed seven times, and the child opened his eyes. Elisha summoned Gehazi and said, “Call the Shunammite woman.” So he called her. When she came to him, he said, “Take your son.” She came and fell at his feet, bowing to the ground; then she took her son and left.

Today was supposed to be Marathon Sunday in the Twin Cities. When I heard that it had been cancelled, I felt badly for the runner and for all who’d come from far and wide to cheer them on. Not to be overly boastful, but I had the pleasure of running a couple of marathons myself over the last 40 years, one in Herington, Kansas and the other in Duluth. The first was in the small town where I first served as a pastor. The second, Grandma’s, was when I turned 50. Heading into a midlife crisis, I decided it was a lot cheaper to run a marathon than to buy a red sports car. And wouldn’t you know it, shortly afterward I developed runner’s knees and that was the end of my racing career.

The marathon in Herington was particularly memorable for me. I was in my second year of ministry. I’d done just enough things as a pastor, I guess, for people to want to show some kindness. I was surprised when I challenged the congregation to support my efforts by pledging so much per mile. I was planning on giving the money to the World Hunger Appeal. They made dozens of pledges of $5, $10, $20 per mile, and more. A part of me wondered if they actually knew how long a marathon was (26.2 miles) and that I was planning on running the whole thing. 

A second surprise came during the race itself. There were parishioners camped out along the route. A couple miles after the start. a woman stopped me and handed me a large piece of German Chocolate Cake that she’d baked just for the occasion. A few miles later, another woman had me stop and eat a piece of cherry pie. And half way through the race, a third woman handed me a package of six king-size Snickers bars. As I look back, I jokingly say that I was probably the only marathoner in history to gain 10 pounds during the race.

So, why were these people being so kind to me? Perhaps because there’s a part of us that loves to replay an act of kindness with a corresponding act of our own. Even though I wasn’t keeping score, I’d offered a job to one of the women in my race; for another, I’d visited her a few times in the hospital; and for still another, I’d had the funeral for her husband. I suppose, these actions were their ways of saying thank you. And it spilled out in totally unexpected generosity.

As we heard in today’s Bible story, there was a Shunammite woman who was wealthy. As Elisha was passing through town, she urged this holy man to stop by the house and have a meal with them. Now, if you’re scratching your heads thinking this sounds a lot like the story of Elijah that we read last week, you’d be right. And for the biblical writer, it was intentionally so. Elijah had been a prophet taking on King Ahab and the worship of Baal that was being spread through Ahab’s wife, Jezebel. They were living in tumultuous times. Elijah ended up starting a reformation of sorts, being willing to speak truth to power, even taking on the prophets of Baal in a dramatic contest on Mount Carmel.

Eventually Elijah moved out of the limelight. In fact, he didn’t really die but simply ascended into heaven. Who was there to take his place but Elisha? Elisha had a ministry of his own. In many ways, it was a continuation of Elijah’s work, except Elisha was more inclined to small acts of kindness than dramatic contests with rival prophets on Mount Carmel.  

We see a couple of those kind actions as Elisha connects with the Shunammite woman and her husband. She thinks so highly of this holy man that she builds a room for him—almost like a guest house. And she lets him know that he’s welcome there anytime he comes to town.

Not long afterward, Elisha wants to return the favor. “Since you have taken all this trouble for me,” he says, “what can I do for you?” Through his servant, Gehazi, Elisha discovers that the woman and her husband are childless. Before you know it, Elisha is making an incredible promise: “At this season, in due time, you will bear a child.” The woman is surprised. She can hardly believe it’s true.  

You heard the story. The woman gives birth to a child. It’s a boy. After a few years, he’s all grown up. He goes out to the field to be with the harvesters. Tragically, he suffers what appears to be a heat stroke, and he dies. The Shunammite woman, who had put her trust in this holy man, is heartbroken. A part of her wonders if the promise of a child had been too good to be true all along. 

But wait! Elisha goes to the child. He engages in an action that sounds almost like mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, and miraculously, the child is revived.

No doubt, when hearing these stories of Elisha and Elijah, it’s important not to try to make a sharp distinction between what is credible and what is not. These are portrayed as miraculous events. In that God is involved, they are beyond our ability to understand or explain them. It’s probably better that we simply accept the accounts for what they’re intended to be: popular stories told to illustrate the character of Elijah and Elisha, two great men of ancient Israel. Clearly, when God gets ahold of someone’s life, amazing things are bound to happen.

Let me tell you a similar story, but something that takes place in modern day America. A pastor in Texas had a parishioner named Idalia. Idalia’s grown children had called the pastor and asked if he would stop and visit her because, they readily admitted, seeing her was often a chore for them. She was crochety, negative, a person who was often hard to spend time with. So, being the good pastor that he was, he set his watch for one hour and went to put in his time with Idalia.

Idalia was 90-years-old and hadn’t been to church in years. This wasn’t the first time the pastor had been to visit her but this time, out of the blue, he noticed a greenhouse in the back of Idalia’s home. And from the living room, he spotted shoots of ivy with the longest leaves he’d ever seen.  

He said to Idalia, “I’ve never noticed your greenhouse before. The plants are remarkable!” Idalia answered bluntly, “Well, you’re always in such a rush to get out of here, you probably haven’t noticed a lot of things.” The pastor admitted, at least to himself, that that was probably true. He hadn’t really looked before. 

Suddenly he got an idea. Every Sunday after church, members of his congregation delivered small plants to the first-time visitors. “Idalia,” he asked, “would you be willing to give us some of your beautiful ivy to share with those visitors?” Idalia answered firmly, “No.” The pastor was taken aback, so he tried a different tact: “What are you going to do with them? You have so many.” She replied, “I just throw ‘em out when they die.”

The pastor tried coaxing her into giving him just a few to share, one at a time. He said that he would personally deliver the plants to visitors. Idalia finally agreed. 

As the pastor brought them around the following Sunday, he told the people about Idalia. And he asked if they wouldn’t mind giving her a phone call and thanking her for the ivy.

Would you believe, a week later at church, there was Idalia out in the narthex, all smiles? People who hadn’t seen her in years were greeting her, hugging her, welcoming her back.

As you might imagine, Idalia continued to grow the ivy for the fist time visitors at the church. A year-and-a-half later, the pastor asked her if she’d give a testimony some Sunday.

Idalia stood up in front the congregation, 91.5 years old, and said, “I feel like I became a Christian at the age of 90, when someone taught me the simple lesson that it’s better to give than to receive.” She added, “Life has got to be recycled. Everything we get has to be passed on to someone else.”  

Idalia had finally answered the “so what” question for herself. She had spent a lifetime hearing the promises of God. She had experienced any number of blessings, but so what? It had all stopped with her.

Idalia concluded her talk: “I’ve been given the gift of a green thumb, but I never connected what I’d been given to my faith life. Now, at age 91, I’ve discovered that generosity, giving your whole life back to God, is what it’s all about.” Oh, isn’t it amazing what can happen when God gets ahold of someone’s life!

Friends, whether we’re talking about those three kind women in Kansas who shared treats for me during the marathon; or Elisha, the kind and holy man; or the Shunammite woman who built a guest house for Elisha in the back; or 91-year-old Idalia, it never ceases to amaze me what a difference simple acts of generosity can make in our lives, and in the lives of others. Here’s the truth: you don’t have to be exactly like Elijah and take on the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel. You can be more like Elisha.

How about finding someone this week who could use some kindness? And then you can discover together what generosity can mean. You might just be surprised! Amen.