Grandpa’s Electric Fence

But when they urged him till he was ashamed, he said, “Send.” They sent therefore fifty men. And for three days they sought him but did not find him. And they came back to him while he was staying at Jericho, and he said to them, “Did I not say to you, ‘Do not go’?” 2 Kings 2:17-18

When I was a kid at my grandfather’s farm, I encountered an electric fence for the first time. My brother dared me to touch it and so, I tapped it for a split second . . . and nothing happened. That was a little disappointing. I wanted to know what it felt like. So, I grabbed on and learned that day that the wire isn’t constantly electrified, but that there are bursts of electricity every second or two. It was unpleasant, but I had to know. I understood that an electric fence worked because it inflicted pain, but I had to find out for myself. Over the years, I’ve repeated the same behavior with Tasers and bark collars. It’s always hurt and you’d think I’d have learned my lesson from that electric fence experience, but every time the opportunity presents itself, I must find out all over again.

I need to find out for myself. This is the unhealthy behavior illustrated in today’s passage. In the story, the prophet Elijah was taken by God into heaven, permanently leaving this Earth. Elijah had been a revered leader among other prophets who, upon his disappearance, wanted to go looking for him. Elisha knew that Elijah was gone for good and he told the other prophets so. Still, they had to go looking. Fifty men went out and for three days, they searched, only to learn what Elisha had already told them. They could have saved a lot of time and effort, but still, they had to find out for themselves.

Like me with my grandfather’s electric fence, those prophets weren’t satisfied with knowledge supplied by someone else. Unfortunately, I still exhibit this behavior sometimes. I can be told that a life of joy and peace is found in abandoning my way to follow God’s, but still, I want to know what I’d be missing. I’ve never tasted that. I must know. Then, only after I’ve experienced the pain firsthand, can I admit that others were right and that I should have avoided the thing in the first place.

You don’t have to eat the poison to know it’s poison. For a lot of you, this is just common sense. For those of us who need to find out for ourselves though, recovery means listening to others and learning to be OK with never experiencing that which is self-destructive.