The story of Elijah’s ascension conjures a fantastic image of a chariot of fire with blazing horses swooping down from the heavens to carry him to God. Elisha remains where he stands, having had the chariot pass between him and his master as it took Elijah away. Remarkably, the scripture reports that Elijah watched the entire scene vigilantly until Elijah and the chariot disappeared from sight. 

Elijah and Elisha traveled together to this moment, all the while knowing Elijah would be taken from Elisha. They stopped at several towns where the inhabitants said to Elisha, “Do you know that today the Lord will take your master away from you?” Each time, Elisha responded, “Yes, I know; be silent.” 

Also, at these junctures, Elijah gave Elisha every opportunity to stay behind, leaving Elijah to travel forward alone. At every opportunity, Elisha responded, “As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you.” Elisha invoked this passionate vow to convey his faithfulness and dedication to Elijah. Elijah’s life might have little time left, but God is eternal. Elisha pledged his unending fidelity to Elijah for as long as humanly possible. No matter how painful the parting would be, how excruciating he would find it to witness, Elisha refused to abandon Elijah in his final journey.

Compare this, instead, to Peter’s behavior during the last days of Jesus. Throughout the gospels, Peter was eager to be the model disciple. He wanted to walk on water with Jesus but lost faith and began to sink. He argued with Christ when Jesus warned them of his coming suffering, so much so that Jesus famously rebuked him, saying, “Get behind me, Satan.” Then, at last, when Jesus told his disciples that they would abandon him and “scatter like sheep,” Peter protested that he would never betray Jesus. Jesus then informed Peter that he would deny Jesus three times “before the cock crows.” Peter did, indeed, deny Jesus three times before sunrise during the Passion narrative. Never once did Peter declare an oath like that of Elisha, and as Jesus died on the cross, Peter was nowhere to be seen.

In the days leading up to Lent, I join other observant Christians in considering my Lenten discipline. Church tradition holds Lent as a penitential season, preparing us for the celebration of Easter but also to pass through the more important way of the cross from Palm Sunday through Holy Saturday. Some Christian communities prescribe a fasting schedule, while others leave it to each believer to discern how they will observe the season. 

I belong to the Episcopal Church, and we maintain a relatively relaxed approach to Lent. We preach that adherents should hold a penitential mindset from Ash Wednesday to Easter morning, but we trust our members to choose a way of doing so that best suits them. In the week before and after Ash Wednesday, we commonly ask one another, “What are you giving up for Lent?” The answers range from Coke (we do live in the South) to chocolate to Social Media (a more recent addition…or addiction?). 

On good years, we remind our members to consider taking up a discipline instead of merely fasting by abstaining from something they love. We hope they will focus less on the self-flagellation approach and more on how their behaviors separate them from God. Chocolate might not be a barrier in our walk with God, but a little walk daily may strengthen our connection with the divine. One year, I managed to add a daily yoga routine to my schedule, making it one of the most holy Lenten seasons of my life.

The trouble with this approach is that in concentrating on our fast, we make Lent all about us, turning the season into some kind of 40-day challenge rather than a period of spiritual reflection. Will you manage to stay away from the candy aisle for six whole weeks? Will the siren song of popular trends and the promise of a dopamine hit pull you back online to check Facebook? We become so lost in the personal challenge that we forget the point: strengthening our relationship with God.

We may consider another option: practicing the discipline of faithful presence. We begin Lent, remembering that we are dust and to dust we will return, then end it by sitting outside the tomb where Jesus’s body lies, abused and lifeless. The story replays the same every year. Jesus will journey from the challenge of the wilderness to betrayal and arrest, finally experiencing torture and execution. We cannot stop the march of the narrative. We know how it will end every year and are helpless to change it. 

What if we committed in Lent to that posture of helplessness instead of penitence? Jesus’s story begs to be witnessed but in the end, his disciples couldn’t stomach the scene. The women, however, held their vigil at his feed as blood and more dripped from his toes. The disciples accepted a pass not offered and disappeared from the narrative, leaving the women (Mother Mary included) to bear witness alone.

This year, we may choose the path of Elisha rather than the one of Peter. Perhaps this year, we might say to Christ, “I will not leave you.” We could choose to accept our helplessness and stand watch anyway. Elisha never waivered in his faithfulness. In the end, he stood with eyes wide open, against the terror and grief, to see his master disappear before his eyes. Imagine if we never waivered in the face of the cross, determined to stand and watch every moment of Christ’s last hours, knowing we cannot change the outcome. Then, we may receive the blessing and transformation along with Elisha that comes with never leaving.

But the benefits stretch far beyond what spiritual gains we might reap from bearing witness to Christ’s formidable death. The liturgical calendar helps us observe the seasons of the church and, in doing so, practice the seasons of our lives. We live through periods reflected by the cycle of the church year: anticipation, celebration, reflection, conflict, contrition, forgiveness, joy, and ordinariness. The cycle prepares and teaches us what we might expect from these times as well as how we will endure them. This includes days, weeks, and months of helplessness.

Should we accept the invitation to bear witness to Christ’s inevitable journey to death, we prepare ourselves for the times in our lives when we will find ourselves utterly powerless to change things. We will feel better equipped to sit with a friend undergoing chemo treatments because we experienced sitting with Jesus at the last supper, knowing Judas would betray him and having no ability to change it. We may feel less frightened holding a loved one’s hand as they lie on their deathbed because we weren’t afraid to show up for Stations of the Cross or Good Friday services at church. Through these liturgies and in the season of Lent, we can learn what it means to be present with someone without the impulse to fix life for them. We learn how to be impotent.

No matter how we like to think of life, the truth is that these days come for us all. We will watch a friend self-destruct into the clawing hands of addiction. We will witness bad decisions made by children we love, knowing what consequences will follow. We will hear a loved one say the word “cancer” to us and realize our capacity to repair or rescue has disappeared, and all that remains is to show up and sit quietly. 

Jesus never asks any human to take his cup away from him. He does not want interference from his disciples or any rescue efforts on his behalf. He does ask them to stay awake with him on his last night as he goes to the garden to pray, but they fail him. The Lent, consider holding vigil and committing with Elisha not to fall asleep but to keep your eyes wide until the very end, vowing never to leave Christ but to stay and keep watch. After all, that is the promise he has made to us.

Scripture: 

2 Kings 2:1-12

Matt 16:21-23

Matt 14:28-33

Matt 26:31-35

Matt 26:36-46