By Craig D. Goodwin-Ortiz de León
The Third Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 8)
Lectionary Readings – June 29, 2025
- 2 Kings 2:1–2, 6–14
- Psalm 77:1–2, 11–20
- Galatians 5:1, 13–25
- Luke 9:51–62
(Also referenced: Psalm 145; 1 Samuel 10:1–16; Romans 4:13–25; Matthew 21:23–32)
God’s Presence in the Storm
When God appears in Scripture, the moment is often disruptive. The readings for this Sunday show God in whirlwind, thunder, and questions that unsettle. These are not quiet encounters. They shake the ground and challenge assumptions.
This divine presence is intimidating. It is also strangely comforting for those of us walking paths of discernment, leadership, or change. In seasons of transition, it is good to remember that God does not always arrive with calm clarity. Sometimes God speaks through chaos.
This theme of divine disruption is most vividly portrayed in the handoff between Elijah and Elisha.
The Mantle and the Question
The story of Elijah and Elisha in 2 Kings captures a dramatic moment of prophetic succession. Elijah is taken up into heaven by a whirlwind, leaving Elisha alone on the far side of the Jordan. Elisha had refused to leave him, insisting on staying with him to the end. He witnesses Elijah’s ascent and receives the prophet’s mantle.
But the first thing Elisha does is not act with confidence. He asks a question: “Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?” It is a question shaped by grief, uncertainty, and longing.
That question has echoed in my own life many times. It happens when facing professional decisions. It occurs while entering a new season of discernment or sitting in silence during prayer. It is not always doubt that prompts the question. Instead, it is a desire. This desire is a yearning to know that God is still near and still speaking.
Elisha’s experience opens the door for a more personal reflection.
By the River
There have been moments during my discernment when I’ve felt caught between conviction and uncertainty. I wasn’t standing beside a literal river. However, I’ve known what it’s like to feel on the threshold of something I can’t yet fully see. I’ve read the story of Elisha with new eyes lately—not just as a biblical event, but as a mirror.
His question, “Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?” feels familiar. I’ve asked it during quiet mornings. I’ve also asked it in the middle of workdays that feel too full. Additionally, I’ve asked it while wrestling with what it means to say yes to something without knowing what will follow. I haven’t received lightning-bolt clarity. But like Elisha, I’ve been learning that faith doesn’t wait for certainty. It’s found in the simple, steady act of picking up what’s in front of you and walking forward anyway.
This quiet act of trust echoes themes found in the psalms. God is often present in ways we can’t see. He moves beneath the surface, shrouded in mystery.
When God’s Footsteps Are Unseen
Psalm 77 speaks beautifully to this sense of divine absence and presence. It recalls God’s mighty acts—trembling waters, flashing skies, and shaking earth. And yet, it says, “Your footsteps were not seen.”
This paradox is at the heart of faith. We remember that God has acted, even when we can’t see the path clearly today. The psalm gives us permission to cry out, to question, and to trust. It teaches us to hold memory and hope together.
The Gospel reading for this Sunday offers a different disruption. This time, it comes in the form of a parable and presents a challenge to institutional authority.
Fruit, Not Formulas
In the Gospel from Matthew, Jesus is asked where his authority comes from. He refuses to offer credentials. Instead, he tells a story about two sons. One says no but obeys, and another says yes but does nothing. It is not titles or appearances that reveal faithfulness, but action.
This message is just as relevant now. So much of our culture and even our church can fixate on appearances. We want clear answers, polished presentations, and traditional authority structures. But God is looking for fruit.
As theologian Howard Thurman once said, “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” That aliveness is what Jesus calls us to. It is found in the ones who show up, even if they tremble.
This idea becomes even more radical when we consider where the Spirit is leading us in today’s church.
Where the Spirit Moves Now
Many today say the Church is in decline. Some blame justice work, LGBTQ+ inclusion, or political engagement for what they see as fading relevance. But I wonder if the whirlwind we fear is actually God’s doing. What looks like collapse is the Spirit moving us to new terrain.
The mantle is falling on new shoulders. This happens in community kitchens, on picket lines, at border crossings, and in quiet acts of mercy. God’s authority is not limited by our structures. The work of the Spirit often begins outside the spotlight.
This sense of unexpected calling brings us back to Elisha. He picked up what was left behind. He stepped into a future he did not choose. However, he embraced it with courage.
Holding the Mantle
These readings ground me in my own call. They remind me that authority is not always granted by human systems. They assure me that asking “Where is God?” is itself a faithful act.
I don’t always know what comes next. But I know this: the mantle is in my hands, even if it feels heavy. And if I dare to walk forward, God will meet me on the riverbank.
Summary: A Faith That Moves in the Wind
The God we meet in these readings is not confined to stillness or stability. This God speaks through storms, acts through reversals, and calls us forward in moments when the ground feels unsteady. Whether we are questioning, waiting, or daring to act, we are not alone. The same Spirit parted the waters for Elisha, shook the skies for the psalmist, and empowered the least expected to carry the kingdom’s work. The Spirit is still moving.
To follow that Spirit is not to escape uncertainty, but to be faithful within it. And sometimes, that begins with asking the right question—and being willing to walk into the whirlwind.
Reflection Questions (feel free to respond in the comments)
- When have you asked, “Where is the Lord?” What came next?
- Are there mantles lying at your feet waiting to be picked up?
- How do you recognize the Spirit at work when the road ahead feels unclear?
Under the Fig Tree 