When There’s Not Much on the Table

The Church has always experienced the call to trust God not just for tomorrow, but also for today.

It is a difficult decision to follow – did Jesus really mean that whatever we ask for in prayer, that it would be given? And what of the encouragement to not be anxious for anything, including food and clothes?

It is always useful and faith inspiring for us to look into the tapestry of biblical stories and be drawn into a narrative that is both familiar and profoundly moving. The world might overlook such moments, but for those with eyes to see, every unfolding event is a testament to ‘Jehovah Jireh’, the God who sees and provides.

Such a challenge is seen in 2 Kings 4. A widow, burdened by debt, stands before Elisha. Her larder holds but a mere jar of oil. To the external observer, the horizon seemed bleak, but isn’t this where God often does His finest work? And what of the formidable providence demonstrated here!

Parallel this with the account in the Gospels where Jesus, presented with a meagre five loaves and two fish, feeds a multitude. Or, casting our gaze further back, recall Moses and the children of Israel in the wilderness. Manna descends from the heavens, not just for a day, but day after day – a daily testimony to the enduring faithfulness of God.

“For the Lord your God has blessed you in all the work of your hands. He knows your going through this great wilderness. These forty years the Lord your God has been with you. You have lacked nothing.” (Deuteronomy 2:7) God is as good as His Word.

In moments of miraculous provision, our hearts are ablaze with wonder, appreciation and worship. God is good.

Each instance unveils Jehovah Jireh, not just as the provider of needs but as the lover of souls who deeply cares for His children. In the crunch of manna, the overflow of oil, or the multiplication of loaves, it’s not just about the provision. It’s a testament to God’s nature, His faithfulness, and His persistent, relentless and unyielding commitment to His people.

“And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:19)

Here then, lies the crux of our human predicament.

As Jesus proclaimed the Kingdom, He called for faith – not just a faith that nods in assent but a faith that leaps mountains and calms tempests. When the table seems bare, when the debts loom large, or when the wilderness stretches endless, do we not hear His call?

“…if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.” (Matthew 17:20)

Isn’t this the audacious challenge to our faith? To trust Jehovah Jireh with an unwavering heart, to take Him at His word, and to rest in the assurance of His promises? Perhaps our greatest challenge isn’t the absence of miracles but the presence of a diminished faith. The table may appear almost empty, but our God is abundant.

The Lord’s provision doesn’t call for a calculated response; it demands a surrendered heart. As we traverse our life’s journey, may we continually echo the Psalmist’s sentiment: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” (Psalm 23:1, ESV)

In a postmodern era where cynicism often overshadows trust, let’s not waver. Let’s be a people of not just small faith, but great faith. Not merely because of what God does, but because of who He is. Let’s sit at the table, even when it appears sparse, with the assurance that He who has promised is faithful.

In moments of scarcity or plenty, may our hearts resound with gratitude, faith, and above all, trust. For even when there’s not much on the table, the Lord as Jehovah Jireh sees, knows, and provides.

Trusting Him isn’t just a theological notion; it’s the pulse of a life surrendered to a generous, miraculous God.

One Bald man, two bears & 42 boys

It’s not quite a teddy bear’s picnic! A quick thought on an obscure text that I have read recently – and as an old, bald prophetic person I wondered what lessons I could learn from it! 

In seriousness though, in the dramatic narrative of 2 Kings 2:23-24, we encounter an episode that can initially confound modern readers: “From there Elisha went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, some boys came out of the town and jeered at him. ‘Get out of here, baldy!’ they said. ‘Get out of here, baldy!’

He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the Lord. Then two bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the boys.”

Peeling back the layers, there’s more to this event than meets the eye, prompting several pressing questions.

Firstly, why this severe consequence for what seems to be mere mockery? While today’s postmodern sensibilities might consider mocking someone’s baldness as merely cheeky or rude, in ancient Near Eastern culture, such mockery, particularly towards a prophet of Yahweh, was deeply sacrilegious. Prophets, with their role as God’s mouthpieces, were revered figures. To mock them was not just to show disrespect to the individual, but also to openly reject and deride the God they represented.

A considerable number of “boys” involved, estimated at forty-two, suggests this wasn’t a small group of rogue children, but possibly a large cohort. There is some thought amongst the commentators that perhaps these were ‘pubescent youth’. The question is, was this usual behaviour for them? Why weren’t they supervised? Why did no one step in to stop this rude and disrespectful behaviour?

Their origin and destination remain shrouded in mystery; it could be that their sheer number and behaviour point to a wider societal issue – perhaps a growing irreverence or even apostasy among the younger generation in Bethel, a city already notorious for its idolatrous golden calf.

The gravity of their action isn’t just in the teasing, but in the undermining of God’s prophetic authority. Had Elisha let this massive jeering mob go unchecked, what message would that send? It might suggest that God’s anointed can be derided without consequence, diminishing the prophetic voice’s value and integrity in society. We might consider this action unjust and that Elijah shouldn’t have done it – after all, how dare he? But the challenge is, could you do something like Elisha did and have the same result – God responding to your mere words?

In today’s context, many in the church sense an urgency to see God move powerfully within our nation. The balance we need to strike is not taking ourselves too seriously, but giving God the reverence He is due. If we belittle or dismiss God’s instruments or methods, we risk missing the profound ways He speaks and moves among us.

For the individual believer and the collective church, this account serves as both a warning and an encouragement. The warning is clear: do not trivialise God’s ordained channels of communication. Yes, sometimes the prophetic people can take themselves too seriously and forget that “message delivered” we are called to weigh what is said against the context of Scripture. The encouragement in this is the reminder that when God’s people face derision, God does not remain passive. At one level or another, He defends, validates, and upholds His chosen ones. We’ll still get mocked and even persecuted, but God sees it all.

In a world increasingly dismissive of the divine and the prophetic may we, with humility and discernment, heed the underlying message in this narrative to positively recognise and honour God’s voice, positioning  ourselves not for judgement but for an outpouring of His grace and love – an imperative in our postmodern age.

God has put this story in the narrative of Elisha for a reason …