2 Kings 2.1-12: Chariots of Fire

The story of Elijah being carried up into heaven is familiar as story and challenging as visual. The story marks the transition from Elijah's service as the prophet of God to Elisha's service in that position. The horses and chariot of fire swoop down (or, as the spiritual sings it "swings low") to gather Elijah and carry him up to heaven. (2 Kings 2:1-12). 

English poet William Blake used the phrase "chariot of fire" in his poem "Jerusalem," and from there it was included in William Parry's choral setting of the poem. You may have heard that hymn in the opening scene of the 1981 movie titled Chariots of Fire, which had to do with runners in the 1924 Olympics. The hymn is also often sung in England for its national connotations. 

The hymn does not encompass the entire poem but does include the lines:

Bring me my Bow of burning gold:
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold:
Bring me my Chariot of fire!

Consider the two Blake images here that include elements of the chariots of fire. We tend to associate the phrase so much with Elijah. Are either of these Elijah?

There is another chariot of fire (which Blake knew) in the pseudopigraphical Book of Enoch: When the Holy One, blessed be He, desired to lift me up on high, He first sent 'Anaphiel H (H = Tetragrammaton) the Prince, and he took me from their midst in their sight and carried me in great glory upon a a fiery chariot with fiery horses, servants of glory. And he lifted me up to the high heavens together with the Shekina. (3 Enoch 6:1) It is reminiscent of Elijah's story: a faithful one lifted up and carried in glory in a fiery chariot.

Is either of these images depicting Elijah? Is either depicting Enoch? What does a chariot of fire mean if it doesn't mean Elijah or Olympic runners? In each of these images, Blake transforms that moment of completion and reward and returning to God for an entirely different purpose. In the upper image (which is from "Jerusalem"), the two defeated figures ride in a "chariot" whose wheels are serpents, with serpents at the front, pulled by creatures with ox-like bodies, faces of men, manes like lions, and single horns growing out of their heads like a unicorn horn but twisted in a spiral. This is not 2 Kings. 

The bottom image was long-believed to be an image of Elijah's chariot, but is this how you pictured the scene? The horse is not fire, the chariot is on the ground. Which figure is Elijah? The etching has more recently been associated with God's judgment of Adam for eating the forbidden fruit. 

When we see chariots and fire, we automatically think of Elijah and of God's gathering up this faithful prophet. Those elements - chariots and fire - aren't always "comin' for to carry us home." If a fiery chariot shows up in your driveway, take a second look before you hop on.  

Top image: William Blake. Jerusalem, Plate 46 ("Bath, mild physician..."). 1804-1820. New Haven: Yale Center for British Art. Bottom image: William Blake. God Judging Adam. c. 1795. New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art.

II Kings 2.1-12: What Elijah Wore

The chariot of fire in which Elijah disappeared usually gets all the press (II Kings 2:1-12, Transfiguration B). And why not? It doesn't happen very often that someone is swooped up off the earth and taken to be with God in a chariot of fire drawn by horses of fire.

But the actual transfer of power is described in the text (though it's in the next verse after the lectionary portion). It's an action that has a legacy in a reasonably familiar phrase. When someone "assumes the mantle" or "takes up the mantle" of someone else, the language is a direct descendant of this story of the prophets. Elisha assumes the mantle of Elijah literally and metaphorically. He asks for and is given a double portion of Elijah's spirit. After the chariot and horses and Elijah disappear, Elijah takes up Elijah's mantle and begins his own journey. 

The text doesn't tell us where the mantle was between verses 8 and 13. In verse 8 Elijah rolls up the mantle and strikes the water so the two can cross the Jordan River. The next time we see the mantle it is on the ground, and Elisha is picking it up and wrapping himself in it. 

Many artists assume that Elijah tosses the mantle down from the chariot. A search for images of Elijah and the chariot will be heavy on flames. Sometimes the flames envelop both the chariot and horses. Other artists have flames only on the feet of the horses and the wheels of the chariots. Among the details the artist might have included a fabric cloak in mid-air.

Compositionally, the cloak ties the heavenly portion of the subject with the earthly portion. The twisting, turning cloak can become a line uniting the chariot passenger prophet with the prophet who waits, looking up expectantly. Often the mantle, the cloak, is red, a vivid color that is related to the flame colors of the chariot and contrasts with a blue sky. But a 13th-century Italian fresco offers a different color palette. And an additional point of meaning.

The Prophet Elijah Taken to Heaven on a Chariot of Fire.13th century. Crypt of St Mary Cathedral, Anagni, Lazio. Italy.

In this fresco the horses and chariot show no actual flames, but they are the red and yellow of fire. Elijah sits in the chariot holding the reins, driving the team. He wears green clothing and holds out what we presume is meant to be his mantle. In the next moment, Elijah will drop the mantle, and presumably it will float down to a waiting Elisha. 

Red is the liturgical color for Pentecost, another scriptural moment associated with the anointing of power and flame. Red is the academic color for divinity. Both associations are appropriate for this moment when God gives power and authority to a new person. 

Green is the color of ordinary time. It is associated with life and growth. These green associations are also appropriate for this story. Because following the special effects of chariot and horse, life went on. Elisha performs the mundane, ordinary task of putting on the mantle and walking back across the river. Because life goes on. In the same way, after the Transfiguration, the disciples go back down the mountain, back to the ordinariness of life without glowing Jesus and Moses and Elijah. Life goes on after the special effects. 

After Elijah disappears (after the chariot) and after Elijah disappears again (from the Transfiguration), the life-giving word of God goes on. Life.

On Art&Faith Matters on Facebook...Elijah wore green and Jesus was green. Click on the link to find out more. For thoughts on the Transfiguration B gospel passage, click here. 

For thoughts on Luke 9:51-62, click here.

2 Kings 2.1-14: Fire. Sun. A Question of Time.

Elijah and his stylish vehicular departure would capture the imagination of just about anyone. Who wouldn't want to be carried away from earth in a chariot of fire pulled by horses of fire? (2 Kings 2:1-14; Proper 8C/Ordinary 13C).

Russian artist Marc Chagall depicted the usual elements of the story in his 1971 mosaic now at the Musee Marc Chagall, Nice, France. The prophet rides in his fiery chariot, hands outstretched (or raised, perhaps). He centers the composition of this large, outdoor mosaic. Surrounding Elijah the artist has placed a circular arrangement of the signs of the zodiac. The internet says (so it must be true), that the signs of the zodiac are used to symbolize time.

Arranged as they are in the wheel of a year, the astrological signs seem to reinforce the cyclical nature of time, of the turning of the seasons and the changing of the year. Symbols of the zodiac are often found on the exterior of Gothic cathedrals, usually in association with the labors of the months.

It is not especially unusual to find the signs of the zodiac as decorations in synagogues from certain eras. Symbols for each of the twelve signs are arranged in a circle around a central figure. In the example below, from the Bet Alfa synagogue (5th century), Cancer is at the top of the circle, and each zodiacal sign is identified in Hebrew letters. Other examples are found at Tzippori and Hamat Tiberias. There doesn't seem to be a consistent arrangement for the signs, but in each of the synagogue examples, the central image is a figure in a horse-drawn chariot.

It is not, however, Chagall's prophet Elijah. Instead we see Helios, the personification of the sun in the Greek pantheon. Helios drives a horse-drawn chariot across the sky every day. With Helios as the central figure, the compositional idea of symbolizing time makes sense. Twelve signs of the zodiac encompass the year, and Helios covers the sun's journey through a day.What, though, has Elijah to contribute to an arrangement of the zodiac signs symbolizing time?

Both Elijah and Helios ride in chariots. Both chariots are pulled by horses. Both chariots and riders take their journey through the sky rather than on earth. The sun is made of fire. There are certainly similarities between the Helios and Elijah. Is that what gave rise to the substitution? Or do you think Chagall had another intention in replacing Helios with Elijah?

Syncretism is the fusion of different thoughts, cultures, religions into one. It sometimes happens like this, "Look! Your religion has a person riding in a chariot in the sky...so does ours! We're the same!" Or, more famously, "Look! You have the Birthday of the Unconquered Sun (the Roman Dies Natalis Solis Invictus)...we have an unconquered Son, too! His birthday is also December 25!" What is gained...and what is lost...when surface similarities are used to create unity?

(Top) Marc Chagall, Elijah in the Fiery Chariot. Mosaic. Russian, 1970. Nice, Chagall Museum. For the Musee National Marc Chagall, see: http://en.nicetourisme.com/nice/183-musee-national-marc-chagall. (Bottom) Mosaic pavement (Zodiac and Helios). 6th century. Bet Alfa Synagogue, Jezreel Valley, Israel. For Beit Alfa Synagogue, see:  http://www.parks.org.il/parks/ParksAndReserves/BET%20ALFA/Pages/default.aspx

For thoughts on Luke 9:51-62, click here.

I Kings 19.1-15a: Empty or Full

At the end of the I Kings reading, Elijah steps out of the cave where he is hiding and covers his head with his mantle. He does this after he has heard the sound of God - the sound of sheer silence (Proper 7C/Ordinary 12C). God was not in the earthquake. God was not in the storms that spun out of control. God was not in the earthquake. God was not in the fire. God was in the sound of sheer silence. Imagine it. In the sheer silence...Elijah knew God was present.

Henri Fuseli (1741-1825), a Romantic artist from Switzerland, painted a figure and called it Silence. The painting seems to be more of an opposite than an echo of the Biblical text. Fuseli's painting (below) shows a single figure sitting in the middle of dark and gloom.

 

Henri Fuseli. Silence. 1799-1801. Kunsthaus, Zurich

The figure, which might be perceived as female based on the long hair (remembering the date of the work), sits on the ground and waits. We do not see a face and get no real clues from the figure's clothing about the figure's meaning. The form of the figure is stark against the background. Silence's head is bowed. Arms are crossed with palms facing up. The legs, with knees drawn up, are crossed at the ankles. The torso of the figure is hunched over. How would you describe Silence as depicted in this figure? Is silence equated with melancholy? Or aloneness? Depression, maybe? Or sadness? Fuseli's silence seems to be empty.

In I Kings, Elijah discovers that in the sheer silence there is God. Not nothing, but everything.

For thoughts on Luke 8:29-36, click here.

I Kings 21.1-21: Jezebel

In the 1995 version of the film "Sabrina", Julia Ormond's Sabrina refers to Linus Larrabee's brother and says, "Nobody's as handsome as David. Not even David." The same might be true of Jezebel: Nobody's as Jezebel as Jezebel. Not even Jezebel. Some people are content to let the character retain the harlotry and brazenness that has been lacquered onto her character through centuries of interpretation. Others are rethinking and reanalyzing to see if that varnish is deserved. However you read her character, this woman is a mover and shaker in the Hebrew scripture readings for Proper 6C/Pentecost+11 (I Kings 21:1-21).

And she was of much interest to a group of English artists in the second half of the 19th century. The paintings of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood are heavy on detail, history, myth and symbol. There is a well-established type of "Pre-Raphaelite woman", and the women around this group of painters are worthy subjects of interest in their own right, finding places as wives, models, lovers, muses, artists and friends. It is not surprising that the PRB would find the character of Jezebel an interesting subject - as they did Guinevere, Francesca, Beatrice, the Virgin Mary and others.

Thomas Matthews Rooke painted several episodes from the story of Jezebel, creating from them a single composition. Framed episodically, almost like panels in a comic strip, the compositions are continuous narration of the story, under the large title of Ahab's Covetings. The episodes shown here in color are (top left) Jezebel promising the sulking Ahab that she has a plan for getting the vineyard he wants, (top right) Elijah announcing the punishment for Ahab and Jezebel as they stand by Naboth's dead body and (bottom left) Jezebel being thrown (literally) to the dogs and (bottom right) a full view of the work.

One of the unusual aspects of these images is that in each episode someone (or more than one someone) has turned their back to the viewer. Ahab turns toward the wall as he lies on his bed sulking. Jezebel turns her back to Elijah in Naboth's vineyard. And, finally (truly finally), Jezebel is pushed from the window with her back to us. Ahab's back is turned as he sulks over being thwarted in his plans for vegetable gardening. He has no respect for the law of inheritance when it comes to the land. He simply wants what he wants. Jezebel acts as would a ruler of Phoenicia (where she was brought up), simply organizing a way to get what the king wants. In doing so, she disregards the law of Israel and shows that she has no regard for Naboth's life or reputation. Ultimately, of course, the problem isn't whether we as the viewer see their faces or their backs. The problem is that Ahab and Jezebel turn their backs on Yahweh.

(Top) King Ahab's Coveting: Jezebel and Ahab. 1879. Russell-Cotes Museum, Bournemouth, England. (Middle) Elijah, Ahab and Jezebel with Naboth (Bottom) Jezebel Thrown to Her Death by Two Eunuchs. 1879. Russell-Cotes Museum. Bournemouth, England. For Russell-Cotes, see: http://russellcotes.com/).

Concerning Widows

Both the reading from Hebrew scripture and the gospel reading for Proper 5C/Ordinary 10C center on women who are widows. The widows live in Zarephath (I Kings 17:8-24) and Nain (Luke 7:11-17) when they cross paths with someone sent by God. These two widows are both in need of the power of God. And both receive what they need.

The position of being in need is expressed in the words - Hebrew and Greek - that are used to describe these two women. The Hebrew word אַלְמָנָה (almanah) does not simply mean a woman whose husband has died. Rather it means a woman who was once married but who has no means of financial support. There is no use of the word in Ruth, for example, presuming that Naomi has some kind of financial support. Conversely the word is used in Lamentations 1;1 to describe the city of Jerusalem: How like a widow (almanah) she has become, she that was great among the nations! She lacks financial resources. Similarly, the Greek word χήρα (chera) is presumed to be a derivative from the same root as chasma, referring to deficiency - the widow lacks a husband. Both words indicate that those who are described by the word are in need. The good news is that God is going to supply their need.

Both women will get their sons back through the power of God. The story of widow of Zarephath, as depicted in the frescos of Dura Europos, is told episodically. At the left is the woman who holds out, presumably to Elijah, her limp, dead son. In the center panel, the prophet reclines on a couch and holds the child. At the right, mother and son are reunited, and their hand gestures echo one another. Note that the mother's dress has changed from the first episode to the last. Her dark clothing has been exchanged for light-colored clothing. The Dura Europos painting focuses on the people in the story rather than the setting. The hand of God reaches down between the prophet and the now-living child and the mother with her revived son on the right, reminding viewers that this miracle occurs because of God's doing.

By contrast, Lucas Cranach (the Younger) created a painting as much as the portrait of a town as the telling of the story from scripture. At the bottom of the painting are the mother and son and Jesus. A procession of women in black have followed the grieving mother and will bear witness to what Jesus does. Cranach has depicted the women with their mouths covered. They are similar to the figure of Katharina von Bora Luther (Martin Luther's widow). In the colored woodcut she wears a black cloak and carries a prayerbook. Across her mouth is a binding strip that is connected to her head covering. The (presumably linen) strip, which is similar to the ones worn by the widows in Cranach's painting, has been hypothesized to refer to the silence expected of widows (remember the parable of the importunate widow!) or the grief and lament of widows (the German term witwe - widow - having its origin in the word for lament or moan) or to symbolize the difficulty of widows in living lives of chastity, obedience and silence (because they had no husband to provide moral direction).

The Bible has much to say about widows. Neither of these two stories, however, spends time moralizing or criticizing. In both cases, God restores what is lacking, giving the two widows much surer footing as each went forward in life.

Top: Elijah Resuscitates the Son of the Widow of Zarephath. Fresco. 3rd century CE. Dura Europos, Syria. For additional information, see: http://divdl.library.yale.edu/dl/OneItem.aspx?qc=Eikon&q=4164.  Middle: Lucas Cranach the Younger. Resurrectio of the Widow's Son from Nain. c, 1569. Altar panel, Stadtkirche, Wittenberg. For Stadtkirche Wittenberg, see: http://www.stadtkirchengemeinde-wittenberg.de/index.php/en/14-texte/88-stadtkirch-orte. Bottom: Katharina von Bora in Widow's Weeds (Katharina von Bora in Witwentracht). 1546. Colored woodcut. 

See this week's Art&Faith Matters Facebook page for a take on Mary, widowhood and the crucifixion. Click on the link below.

I Kings 18: Mount Carmel

The reading from Hebrew scripture for Proper 4C (I Kings 18:20-21, 30-39) takes us to the slopes of Mount Carmel for a "Battle of the Prophets" between Elijah all alone and the prophets of Baal numbering 450+. God shows up, answering the prayers of Elijah and putting the prophets of Baal to shame. God lights a fire for a sacrifice even though both the offering and the altar have been thoroughly soaked with water.

Mount Carmel has a fairly extensive association with Elijah; so much that a group of hermits took to living in the caves of Mount Carmel, in imitation of Elijah. Even before Elijah, though, the heights of Mount Carmet were the site of worship. We know this because Elijah repaired the altar to Yahweh that had fallen into disrepair (I Kings 18:30).

Pietro Lorenzetti. Hermits at the Fountain of Elijah. 1328-29. Siena, Italy: Pinacotheca Nazionale.

In the picture above by Pietro Lorenzetti, hermits are near the Fountain of Elijah, dressed in their Carmelite habit - including a striped cloak designed to symbolize Elijah's cloak which was scorched as he went up to heaven in the chariot of fire. The order later received papal dispensation to change these cloaks because they were a source of ridicule outside the monastery. 

Pietro Lorenzetti. St. Albert Presents the Rule to the Carmelites. 1327-1329. Siena: Pinacotheca Nazionale. For this painting, see: http://pinacotecanazionale.siena.it/?page_id=29#!prettyPhoto[opere]/0/

By the 13th century, the Carmelites had received a rule and their members had founded other Carmelite communities, changing the order from one of hermits to an order of mendicant friars. Currently the Stella Maris Monastery, built in the 19th century, sits on the slope of Mount Carmel directly above a cave or grotto traditionally identified as one of the caves of Elijah.