07.17. Joash, King of Israel, and the Arrows
Joash, King of Israel, and the Arrows.
We now return out of Judah into the land of the ten tribes, and after an interval, the reign of Jehoahaz the son of Jehu, we get a sight of our prophet again.
Joash had succeeded his father Jehoahaz on the throne of Israel, and still did evil in the sight of the Lord, as Jeroboam the son of Nebat, and the rest of the kings before him. But in his days Elisha had fallen sick of his sickness whereof he afterwards died. The longest day has its evening, it has been said, and said, too, of the ministry of this prophet He had gone through the reigns of Jehoram the son of Ahab, of Jehu, Jehoahaz and Joash, having seen also the earlier times of Ahab and Ahaziah. Perhaps he had been a prophet of God for nearly sixty years. But the evening of his day was now come; his sun sets in brightest tints, and with a glow which was worthy of its meridian hour.
Joash, we read, came down unto him, and wept over his face, and said, "O my father, my father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof." This may surprise us. But it is clear that there was no pretence, or mockery, or insincerity in all this. It was nature. Perhaps Elisha had been hitherto much neglected by this king of the house of Jehu, And in the prospect of his being taken away, there was, as was very natural, a quickening of conscience in him, and he accordingly seeks the dying prophet. Even Herod, a worse man than Joash, could do many things, and tremble at the thought of John being alive, as Joash here could at the thought of Elisha dying. This was nature. Joash valued Elisha’s presence in his kingdom. But beside that, he would honour Elisha, ere it was too late; for the remembrance that he had done so, might, when Elisha was gone, hinder some disquiet in his conscience. The prophet’s sanctity, the power that had so often been owned in him, and the name and place he filled, enforced all this on his soul at such a moment as the present; and thus, not in mockery or pretence, but under this strong current of natural feelings, the king visits the dying prophet with the very same salutation with which this prophet himself had hailed the ascending Elijah. But nature is not up to the elevation of the Spirit of God. "Stand fast in the Lord," is the word — and "I can do all things, through Christ which strengtheneth me," is the Apostle’s only boast. We are not to glory, save in that which Christ works in us. And so, however promising things may be at the beginning of this scene, nature in Joash is not up to the occasion. He could not go through it, as Elisha had before done, in the power of the Spirit. The motions of nature carry us for a season apparently in that track, where the energy of the Holy Ghost would have us; but they will not bear us to the end with those who are in the same track in the Spirit. And so, though Elisha and Joash begin with the same language on their lips, there is distance between them. But let me say, in connection with this admonition, that we must not question the goodness of God, though we may know the weakness and deceit of our own hearts. And there is this tendency in us. We are prone to suspect the sources of light or joy or strength, that may be in us at times. Our reasoning will tell us that simple nature and not the Spirit of God is in these things. We do what we can to take the praise of our blessings from God, and to reason that good gifts come down from sources short of the Father of lights. But this should not be. The heart is deceitful indeed, but God is good. And in simplicity of faith we should accustom ourselves to trace our light, or joy, or strength of soul, to His Spirit, without the darkening and troubling reasonings of our own hearts.
All this may teach us. There is warning against nature, but consolation for us in God here. But there is something besides. At the bidding of the prophet, the king takes bow and arrows, and does with them according to the word of the prophet, the prophet interpreting the action to him. Then the king, having taken the arrows by themselves, as Elisha bids him, is ordered to smite the ground with them But on doing so only three times, the prophet rebukes him. The man of God is wroth, and rebukes him, for he was grieved and disappointed. But why was this? Why this heat in the soul of Elisha? The reason is beautiful. He had just told the king that "the arrow of the Lord’s deliverance, and the arrows of deliverance from Syria," were in his hand: had his soul been in unison with the prophet, had it glowed with thoughts of that glory which was thus brought so nigh to him; had his heart sparkled at the sight of the Lord’s own quiver then in his hand, how lustily would he have smitten the ground at the bidding of the prophet. Had Joash but valued the Lord’s arrow as Elisha had valued his master’s mantle, all would have been harmony of soul between them. But the king had not in spirit fallen into that current which was then bearing the prophet along. The spirit in him was not in the same fine flow that it was pursuing through Elisha, and therefore, with slack hand he smote the ground but thrice. And oh! how much of this we know! Where is the fine rich fervency of heart which we find of old, the glow of soul, and power of utterance, which were known among our tried and suffering brethren in other days? What smiting on the ground again and again was there then, in company, as it were, with the soul of Elisha! But our hand is slack. The unction and the zeal, and the earnests of the Spirit, express themselves in far feebler lines now, than they were wont to do in other days. Elisha had cried out as Elijah was leaving him, "My father, my father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof" — but he also took up the mantle of the prophet and smote the waters as the prophet had smitten them, to divide them hither and thither. The king can now come to Elisha as he is leaving him, and utter the same words, but there is no kindred smiting now. The king’s heart is cold, and his hand is slack, where Elisha’s had been fervent and bold. "O Lord, revive thy work in the midst of the years, in the midst of the years make known."
We stand but little now-a-days in the rich and fervent power of the Spirit of God. At least one feels this for oneself too sensibly. There may be extension in the field of vision, or multiplied truths dwelling in the thoughts, but the deep unctuous virtue of truth itself is less felt. Again I say, one speaks this at least of oneself, according to the well-known coldness and narrowness of one’s own affections. So that we may still say, "O Lord, revive thy work!" As another has sung -
"The ancient days were days of might,
In forms of greatness moulded,
When flowers of heaven grew on earth
Within the church unfolded.
For grace fell fast as summer dew,
And saints to giant stature grew."