It’s time to change your ride?
I’m sorry – it’s a long one, but it’s worth it – especially for you. In Gladiator, when Maximus removes his helmet and reveals who he truly is, there’s a pause. A hush. The sort of silence that hangs in the air when truth walks into the room. “Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife,” he says ‐ and you know at that moment, he’s not asking for permission. He’s moving forward with purpose. Everybody’s riding something, the only question is: where’s it taking you? Seriously …
In today’s world, chariots are not what comes to mind for a mode of transport, instead we call for an Uber, hail a taxi, or, if we’re really adventurous, rent an e-bike and pretend it’s all under control, but spiritually speaking, we’re still hitching rides ‐ choosing vehicles that carry our convictions, our callings, and yes, our compromises. And so the question: what do you want to ride?
One option is the Ethiopian eunuch in Acts 8. He’s in his chariot, Bible open, heart stirred. A man of influence, likely rich, educated, devout ‐ but still, something is missing. Religion can take you far, but only revelation can take you home. Along comes our Philip, not with a tract or a temple scroll or even the ESV, he’s empty handed; but he has got the gospel ‐ the good news about Jesus, and right there in that barren wilderness, in a chariot designed for prestige, the Spirit interrupts. Water appears. The eunuch believes. He gets baptised, and just like that, Philip is gone. We don’t know how, it just happens.
That chariot itself, if anything, represents many of us ‐ respectable, curious, inquisitive, reading the right things, asking the right questions, but still parked short of power. It’s the ride of the seeker, the scholar, the sincere. It’s what you and I needed to begin the adventure that lasts a lifetime, but it’s not the ride of the prophetic. That chariot will take you to the edge of encounter ‐ but not through the fire. It’s a good start. It’s solid, but you know there’s more.
Looking over your shoulder and away from the Ethiopian dude, what about Elijah? We know this story, and we like it. It’s a different kind of ride. It’s not a turbo-charged upgrade, as if the former is not enough, but it is a compelling invitation. No leather seats. No GPS. Just wind, fire, and a chariot ablaze with the glory of God. It’s where God’s ‘stuff’ is happening…
Elijah wasn’t trying to get somewhere ‐ he was being taken. Heaven was calling, and the vehicle was not of this world. He had walked with God through droughts, stood alone on Carmel, stared down kings and false prophets alike. His life wasn’t measured in convenience or comfort, but in confrontation and obedience. And his departure? Fiery. Unapologetic. No slow fade. Unprecedented, uncharted, unexpected …
Elijah didn’t die ‐ he was taken. That’s what happens when you ride in obedience long enough. God doesn’t just use you; He claims you. Takes you home with heaven’s own horses. Elijah’s chariot doesn’t run on intellect or influence. It runs on fire ‐ the fire of consecration, the kind that purifies and propels, sends out, ‘apostles’ ‐ you. Do whatever He tells you.
Now, we can’t stop there breath-taking as it is. Watching Elijah’s encounters close-up, stirred, wide-eyed but hugely expectant, was Elisha. A man who once ploughed fields but now hungers for something more. Not the eunuch’s chariot of enlightenment. Not even Elijah’s chariot of exit. No ‐ Elisha wants the mantle. He wants to walk in double. Not double the fame, but double the function – all of it, and a little more. And here’s where the challenge lands squarely in our laps.
We can easily be content with the eunuch’s experience ‐ a moment of clarity, a splash of water, and back to life as usual. Fewer are ready for Elijah’s ride ‐ where everything burns and only the unshakable remains; even fewer will ask, like Elisha, for what comes next. Not the glory of departure, but the weight of continuation. I hope you will. You should.
Elisha picked up the mantle. He didn’t do a Facebook post about it. He didn’t start a school of prophetic branding. He just struck the Jordan and asked one question ‐ “Where is the LORD, the God of Elijah?” (2 Kings 2:14, ESV). And when the waters parted, it was clear: God honours the hungry. The obedient. The ones who stay behind not to sulk, but to serve. The ones who don’t just watch the fire ‐ they walk into it. Elisha has burned his bridges – or rather, his oxen. The village have a feast, and on a full tummy Elisha has joined the adventure with Elijah.
Later, having seen the chariot of fire, seen the power of God first hand we get a front seat to get it, get where Elisha is in his relationship with God. We are told that when his servant went to put the milk bottles out (something Gen Z have no experience of) he panicked at the sight of enemy armies, Elisha simply prayed, “O LORD, please open his eyes that he may see.” (2 Kings 6:17, ESV). And what did he see? The hills full of horses and chariots of fire ‐ heaven’s army, unseen by the natural, but very much present. When you walk in obedience, heaven walks with you. Do whatever He tells you.
And here’s the wild thing ‐ Jesus in Gethsemane, could have called down more than twelve legions of angels ‐ over 72,000 warriors of light ‐ but didn’t. He stayed. He suffered. He obeyed. He knows every name in that heavenly host. He knows the angels assigned to your family, your household, your life. They stand at His command, not yours. But, they stand. He knows their names, commands them, sends them, and when you ride with Him ‐ really ride ‐ heaven’s army rides with you. I use ‘ride’ figuratively and loosely, but you know what I mean; I’m urging you in your walk with God to go after him both audaciously and relentlessly.
For us in this story, it’s a ride of radical obedience and faith, knowing that God really is with and for you.
Understandably, and it has to be said, you can’t ride ‘Elijah’s chariot’ unless you’re following Jesus as Lord and Saviour – having come to Jesus, accepting, loving, believing and following Him, with sins forgiven and being fully justified, redeemed and forgiven. Without guilt or shame; blameless. That’s a big thing. The fire that took Elijah came from the same holiness that consumed our Saviour ‐ not in judgement, but in mercy, so you could ride free. His blood paid for your seat. His resurrection secured your destination. The gospel is not just your entry ‐ it is your engine.
Let me speak plainly. This isn’t legalism talking, it’s a wake-up call. The Church has feasted long enough on comfort and sentiment. It’s time we hungered for something weightier. Something real.
We’ve nailed the performance. But God isn’t after polish – He’s after presence. Across the nation, in far too many corners of the Church, the lights are on — but the fire’s gone out. Smoke, but no cloud of glory. Songs without surrender. Gifts unspent. Heaven’s not waiting on our next setlist — it’s waiting on hearts that burn. What we need now isn’t hype, but holiness. Not just encounters, but obedience. Not another stage — but a prophet’s edge and a servant’s endurance.
This is a line-in-the-sand moment. The ride you choose will shape the story you leave. The eunuch rode away rejoicing — a man awakened. Elijah rode up in fire — a prophet honoured. But Elisha? He kept walking. Carried the fire. Shifted a generation.
So which ride is yours? The eunuch’s chariot brings revelation. Elijah’s? Refining. But Elisha’s lifestyle or ‘mantle’? That path will cost you. Death to self. A refusal to settle. A fire that won’t let go. It’s not glamorous. It won’t trend. But it’ll strip you down until Christ is all that’s left – it’ll take a lifetime.
Maybe this is your summons. Drop the reins of convenience. Pick up the mantle. Do whatever He tells you.
Now take a step back – I know that all got a bit compelling but you get the gist of it all I am sure – it really is time for us to intentionally press in for more of God, more of His Presence, more of the gifts and more of ‘each other’ in friendship, fellowship and testimony. Together for the Kingdom.
Step into the chariot God sends — and don’t look back. Only obedience will carry you forward.