I am currently working on a set of sermon in 2 Kings. My preparation this week has been in 2 Kings 13. Most of it is straightforward enough as Old Testament narrative goes, except for the following weird little incident:

20Then Elisha died and was buried.

Now Moabite raiders used to come into the land in the spring of the year. Once, as the Israelites were burying a man, suddenly they saw a raiding party, so they threw the man into Elisha’s tomb. When he touched Elisha’s bones, the man revived and stood up! — 2 Kings 13:20-21 (CSBA)

The two most pressing questions are:

1. Why did this happen?
2. Why is this here?

It is entirely natural to jump into the commentaries to try and figure it out. Unfortunately, they all seem to disagree with one another!

There are those commentators who just think the episode is entirely nuts and, therefore, should probably be rejected as genuine. Typical of such views is Raymond Calkins (as quoted by Dale Ralph Davis):

The story recounted in vs. 21 is without parallel in Scripture. Nowhere else do we find even a hint of magic power in the bones of the dead. It is a relic of superstitious belief which somehow crept into the tradition concerning Elisha. But it is at least token of our awareness that in death we have dealings with eternity. To be quickened by contact with the living soul of a holy man, though he were dead, is one thing. For a man to come to life because his dead body touched the bones of a saint is something which finds no warrant elsewhere in what we are taught in the Bible of the ways of God.

So, there you have it. This is just a bogus story, God doesn’t work this way, strike it from the record. Needless to say, without any manuscript evidence to reject it, anybody who takes biblical inspiration, infallibility and inerrancy at all seriously will not find this a particularly compelling answer to a tricky episode.

Amongst those less inclined to reject it as some fanciful extra-biblical addition, theories vary. There are those who do very little to help us address those two key questions and content themselves with making bare observations. Typifying this approach is Paul House:

Not even death stops this prophet’s ministry. His predictions about Syria’s defeat live on, of course, as do his miraculous powers… This final Elisha story provides a fitting summary of the prophet and his ministry. Long says, “As he was a man of power in life (chaps. 2-7), moving and persuasive even in stories told about him (2 Kgs 8:1-6), so now his awesome powers continue working in death, confirming the prophet and foreshadowing the victory to come.” Elijah has gone to heaven without dying; Elisha has kept giving Israel life after he has died.

This approach only begins to approach the ‘why did this happen?’ question and doesn’t really get us very far in answering ‘why is this here?’ It feels like it makes legitimate and reasonable observations, but contents itself to say no more than that.

Iain Provan goes to more trouble to move beyond mere observation and offers a specific answer to our two questions by reiterating the details and making similar observations to House and then asking, ‘But why should we be told this here? What is the point?’ He first roots the text in the wider covenantal context arguing that ‘God was unwilling to destroy Israel because of Abraham and was “unwilling to destroy” Judah because of David… The two kingdoms are ultimately being treated by God in the same way, whatever the apparent differences we have perceived thus far between them.’ God would not cut off Israel for Abraham’s sake and would not cut of Judah for David’s sake. This section of the narrative is immediately followed by the incident with Elisha’s bones. Provan then argues:

The connection between this story and the verses that follow seems to lie in the use in verse 21 of that same verb ŝlk that is found in verse 23 and in 2 Kings 17:20. The Israelites “throw” the body (presumably unwillingly) into the tomb; God unwillingly “throws” Israel into exile. The point appears to be this: Elisha, the great protector of Israel, is dead. His was an age when “God saved” Israel (cf. the Hb. root yš^c underlying the name “Elisha” and the words “deliverer” in v. 5 and “victory” in v. 17), even in the midst of great sin (cf. 13:1-7, 14-19). With the passing of that era, Israel has entered a time in which devastating judgement will not long be held at bay. They are shortly to enter the tomb of exile, to be cast out of God’s presence with not so much as a remnant left… Yet even in exile, there is hope. If contact with the great prophets of the past is maintained, through obedience to their teachings (we presume), death may yet be followed by unexpected resurrection (cf. Ezek. 37:1-14), defeat by victory.

So, Provan sees a connection between that verb “thrown” and – as Terence Fretheim puts it (who shares a similar view) – sees in the resurrection of a man who comes into contact with Elisha’s bones a ‘symbolic narrative giving a hopeful testimony regarding Israel’s future life’.

Dale Davis is unconvinced by this position. He notes:

This may be so, but I think the argument based on the catch-word ‘throw’ (Heb., šālak) is a stretch, because the verb in verse 23 is used with the negative. The emphasis in verse 23 is not that the exile is coming but that it has not yet come. I don’t deny a possible corpse-Israel parallel but playing around with šālak here doesn’t really support it.

My Hebrew is nowhere near good enough (that is to say, virtually non-existent) to be able to adjudicate that with any credibility. What it does suggest is we should be a little cautious in building the entirety of our answer on the strength of one word, particularly when it is not universally recognised as most probable.

Davis affirms something of what House articulates, but moves a little further towards the why questions posed earlier. He states:

It seems as if these two sections [vv20-21; vv14-19] may depict Elisha’s legacy to Israel, for through Elisha, the servant of the word, she receives both deliverance (vv. 14-19) and life (vv. 20-21), or, both victory and vitality. Even when the prophet is about to die, or already dead, these gifts are still available to Israel. So I think Keil is right about verses 20-21: the restoration of the dead man was only ‘brought about by contact with the bones of the dead prophet, because God desired thereby to show to his people that the divine energy, which had been active in Elisha had not, by his death, disappeared from Israel.’ And so Israel still has hope. I think Roger Ellsworth has got it right:

We must not dismiss this account. It shows that the Word of God which Elisha had so faithfully borne was still mighty and powerful even though the prophet himself had died. What comfort there for captives! They must often have thought their nation was as good as dead, but because of the powerful Word of God their nation would live again.

James Mead, however, argues that the individual is in view rather than the corporate nation. He states:

[A]gainst the background of Moabite raids and the sadness of death, Elisha’s corpse is seen as bringing about life, and this, not for an entire nation (where the many might be regarded as more important than one insignificant individual), but for someone nobody outside the story knows. Of course, the reader should not be surprised that Elisha’s final deed helped an anonymous person, since almost all of the people blessed by Elisha are left anonymous (Naaman is the lone exception, and he is an Aramaean!).

Dale Davis reckons both the national (per Keil) and the individual (per Mead) are in view. He says:

One hears then a similar testimony at the ends of both Elijah and Elisha’s prophetic careers. In 2 Kings 2 Elijah does not die but is taken up by a storm-wind heavenward (2:11). That may not seem like much but it has tremendous hint-value. It says that though death holds sway it does not hold sway absolutely. God makes an exception in Elijah’s case. Then at the end of Elisha’s history we have a slice of the same testimony. But lest we think Yahweh’s power over death is only for revered prophets he here rebukes death for Mr. Anonymous Joe-Schmoe-Israelite (13:20-21). It’s as if the last word from both Elijah and Elisha is: Don’t think death has dominion over you.

I am still working through the passage and trying to collate my own thoughts on why this strange little vignette is included here. I am inclined towards something similar to Davis’ view of both the corporate and the individual. Right now, I lean towards something like the following.

There is a clear connection drawn between Elijah as Israel’s defence system and the view of Elisha as Israel’s defence system after him (cf. v14 – the same designation Elisha gave Elijah is given to Elisha by the king). But despite the loss of their defence system, even in death God’s power is still available to Israel. Elijah, and Elisha after him, were never Israel’s defence. It was God himself who was Israel’s defence and his power remains upon his people whom he has not cut off for the sake of his covenant with Abraham. What is true for the nation is evidently true for the individual. Just as God’s power remains available to Israel for their protection because of his covenant with Abraham, so God’s power serves individuals who – despite the sin of the king and the judgement coming upon the nation – may still find themselves in receipt of new life as God in his grace determines to bestow upon them.

One of my reasons for sharing this is just to draw back the curtain a little on sermon preparation. Sometimes we hit upon strange passages like this that are not altogether clear as to why they are even there. It is both heartening and, simultaneously frustrating, when the commentators appear unable to agree among themselves. It shows that our wrestling with the text is not a matter of being thick, but a genuinely thorny text that even learned scholars accept is not immediately apparent.

When we are faced with such things, we have to pray a lot, read a lot, try to centre whatever we think on whatever is clearest and then attempt some sort of synthesis. Sometimes we might do a lot of reading, find everyone disagrees and not find any one case especially compelling. When that happens, we may find ourselves having to admit that we just don’t know. When we can reach a conclusion with which we are mainly satisfied, we may just need to be clear that the range of opinions makes ours a tentative position and – whatever else we may think about it – this unclear text is not going to form the basis of any major doctrinal stances that we take thereafter.