broken happy endings

The Read

2 Kings 4: 8-37

One day Elisha went on to Shunem, where a wealthy woman lived, who urged him to eat some food. So whenever he passed that way, he would turn in there to eat food. And she said to her husband, “Behold now, I know that this is a holy man of God who is continually passing our way. Let us make a small room on the roof with walls and put there for him a bed, a table, a chair, and a lamp, so that whenever he comes to us, he can go in there.”

One day he came there, and he turned into the chamber and rested there. And he said to Gehazi his servant, “Call this Shunammite.” When he had called her, she stood before him. And he said to him, “Say now to her, ‘See, you have taken all this trouble for us; what is to 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 dwell among my own people.” And he said, “What then is to be done for her?” Gehazi answered, “Well, she has no son, and her husband is old.” He said, “Call her.” And when he had called her, she stood in the doorway. And he said, “At this season, about this time next year, you shall embrace a son.” And she said, “No, my lord, O man of God; do not lie to your servant.” But the woman conceived, and she bore a son about that time the following spring, as Elisha had said to her.

When the child had grown, he went out one day to his father among the reapers. And he said to his father, “Oh, my head, my head!” The father said to his servant, “Carry him to his mother.” And when he had lifted him and brought him to his mother, the child sat on her lap till noon, and then he died. And she went up and laid him on the bed of the man of God and shut the door behind him and went out. Then she called to her husband and said, “Send me one of the servants and one of the donkeys, that I may quickly go to the man of God and come back again.” And he said, “Why will you go to him today? It is neither new moon nor Sabbath.” She said, “All is well.” Then she saddled the donkey, and she said to her servant, “Urge the animal on; do not slacken the pace 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. Run at once to meet her and say to her, ‘Is all well with you? Is all well with your husband? Is all well with the child?’ ” And she answered, “All is well.” And when she came to the mountain to the man of God, she caught hold of his feet. And Gehazi came to push her away. But the man of God said, “Leave her alone, for she is in bitter distress, and 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 deceive me?’ ” He said to Gehazi, “Tie up your garment and take my staff in your hand and go. If you meet anyone, do not greet him, and if anyone greets you, do not reply. 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 you.” So he arose 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. Therefore he returned 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 shut the door behind the two of them and prayed to the Lord. Then he went up and lay on the child, putting his mouth on his mouth, his eyes on his eyes, and his hands on his hands. And as he stretched himself upon him, the flesh of the child became warm. Then he got up again and walked once back and forth in the house, and went up and stretched himself upon him. The child sneezed seven times, and the child opened his eyes. Then he summoned Gehazi and said, “Call this Shunammite.” So he called her. And when she came to him, he said, “Pick up your son.” She came and fell at his feet, bowing to the ground. Then she picked up her son and went out.

The Run

We love to hear a story end “happily ever after”

But “ever after” is a long time.

And life is complicated.

Today’s good news can turn so quickly into tomorrow’s tragedy.

At first the deeper we love, the greater the blessing.

But that deep love can turn into deep sadness when “happily ever after” turns into “it’s complicated.”

We long for clarity in a complex world where things change quickly.

Sometimes the only clarity we can cling to is the knowledge that we made our choices.

That dream job turned out to be a nightmare – but hey it’s the job I chose.

That class turned out to be a pain – but hey it’s what I wanted.

That person betrayed me – but hey, it was my choice to be with them.

But sometimes life doesn’t even have this clarity. Sometimes life throws us things – both good and bad – that we didn’t choose. And who’s to say that today’s unexpected blessing won’t turn out to be tomorrow’s unasked for curse?

The woman in this story didn’t choose to have a son. And suddenly she finds that the dream she didn’t even ask for has turned from “happily ever after” into a dark and sinister “it’s complicated.”

It can be particularly hard when others don’t acknowledge how complicated things feel for us. Sometimes things look so simple to an outsider. Sometimes it’s only in our own hearts that we feel the conflict and complexity.

Maybe that’s why so many commentators find this woman to be simple. They focus on her faith and the power of Elisha. All true things. But by focusing on her faith they silence this woman. Yes, she is faithful. That’s all there. But she is battling, crying out, beating down the doors for a child that she never envisioned, a dream perhaps she never had, a hope that she never even uttered.

So many commentaries read: “She didn’t want Elisha to speak on her behalf in the political spheres of influence that he held.”

But then they presume to read her mind by saying: “the next verse says what she really wanted.”

But she never asks for a son.

No instead, it is Elisha’s sneaky, mischievous servant, Gehazi who decides for her. “Give her a son,” he says.

Later we will hear how this same servant sneaks behind Elisha’s back to extort kick-backs from the people Elisha heals. This is the con artist who presumes to speak for this woman.

Maybe she is smarter than we give her credit. The only thing this woman says is: “don’t deceive me.”

In a world where “happily ever after” can quickly turn into “its complicated” – perhaps this woman is wise to be a little cautious around Gehazi. It might be street-smart to keep her expectations low.

She didn’t ask for this son. She was doing fine, she was motoring along and offering her house and her life to this traveling prophet, Elisha. Even when he wanted to give her something in return she didn’t know what to ask for.

Or perhaps a son was the silent cry of her heart. Perhaps she dared not utter this impossible dream because her bareness was something she lived with and had accepted. We know that childless women had lower status than mothers in the ancient near east. They were more vulnerable in a patriarchal society.

But the woman is a more complicated figure than either commentators or Gehazi lead us to believe. In contrast to the well-known story of Hannah, the mother of Samuel, this is not a woman on a mission for a child. Hannah was weeping, wailing on the temple steps. The prophet Eli thought she was drunk in her feverish prayers, begging for a child.

In contrast, the woman in this story is calm and collected. Far from disturbing the peace, she creates peace. She remodels a quiet study for the prophet Elisha while asking nothing in return.

And yet she receives a son.

But all too soon, the unexpected dream becomes an unbidden nightmare as the child’s body grows cold.

And so it is all the more powerful to see her – not weeping on the steps – but riding through the mountains. She is single-minded, risking all to preserve a dream she didn’t even ask for.

Her husband sees her leaving and asks “where are you going? It’s not the time for this?”

She responds: “it’s fine”

When Gehazi sees her approaching up Mt Carmel – he runs down and asks “is everything okay? You look a little stressed.”

She responds: “it’s fine”

She is reaching, striving, pushing towards Elisha. The one man who has the answers to her unasked questions. She didn’t choose this sorrow but now that it has found her, she looks neither to the left nor to the right as she pushes for resolution. She leaps off the donkey, having ridden for nine hours. She hikes up her skirts, stained with mud, and rushes towards this man whom she knows and has cared for.

So many commentaries love to talk about how she keeps says “it’s fine! It’s fine!” They talk about how she shows no hint of suffering, how she is such a faithful bold woman.

Yes – it’s true – she is faithful.

But no – it’s not true that she shows no hint of suffering.

This is not the “it’s fine” of a woman who simply trusts and obeys.

This is the “it’s fine” of a woman who refuses to be distracted by anything less than the grace of God. She is angry. She is livid. But she will only entrust her anger to the one who can answer her question. To the one who is willing and able to dive into the happily ever after that has suddenly become so complicated.

So she doesn’t tell her husband.

She doesn’t tell Gehazi.

She marches right up Mount Carmel to Elisha himself and lets him know what she really thinks

“I asked for one thing: DON’T DECIEVE ME! And now look what has happened? Did I ask for a son? No! But this was your “happily ever after” and now it’s your “it’s complicated.” I am not leaving without you.”

And Elisha goes with her.

It’s not easy to save the son. It’s complicated.

Gehazi can’t do it – even with his magic wand. It’s too complicated.

It takes Elisha’s whole body – a complicated procedure – the very breath from his mouth.

But in this engagement with the complications that follow happily ever after, God shows that the woman is not deceived. The good gifts – the unasked for grace – of God do not falter when life gets complicated. When life gets complicated, God comes down from the mountain to journey with us and to restore to life our broken happy endings.

Maybe life isn’t complicated now. But you’re building a room for Elisha. Opening a new place in your heart for God to fill with whatever comes next.

Maybe you don’t know what to ask for right now or have gotten more than you bargained with a situation you didn’t even want.

Maybe your dream has recently died and is growing cold.

Maybe you are on the donkey, pursuing justice in your situation.

Perhaps you are nodding and smiling at all who approach you while your heart is weeping. Your world feels like its falling apart but you smile and tell people “it’s fine” And there is nothing inauthentic about that in this moment, rather, you are seeking after the one who can truly raise the dead.

You are entrusting your anger and your pain to the only one who will not deceive you.

Sometimes we are so deep into our dreams, in realizing our goals, that when they get complicated we stop and ask God, did I ask for this? Was this the thing I needed? Is it even what I wanted?

But God has given these things to you and now it is something that is part of who you are. Just as that woman’s child was no mistake so, too, are those things you hold close to your heart no mistake. Even if you never asked for them, they have been given to you as a gift.

Just as God has entrusted you with them, so too has he given you the faith, the tenacity and the ability to cry out to him, to prostrate yourself, to live in confidence and faith that they WILL be restored. They will be repaired and even as Elisha spread himself over the slowly warming boy, so Jesus will spread himself out over your life, over your dreams over your hope. Even if you didn’t ask for it, God will do it.