#1916 Elisha's House

#1916

Elisha's House

The Indescribable Christ
By Dr. S.M. Lockridge

Dr. S.M. Lockridge was the Pastor of Calvary Baptist Church, San Diego CA from 1953 - 1993. He entered heaven in 2000. He is well-known for a passage out of his sermon titled “He’s My King”:

“He’s enduringly strong, He’s entirely sincere, He’s eternally steadfast. He’s immortally graceful. He’s imperially powerful. He’s impartially merciful. He’s God’s Son. He’s a sinner’s savior. He’s the centerpiece of civilization. He stands alone in Himself. He’s unparalleled. He’s unprecedented. He’s supreme. He’s preeminent. He’s the loftiest idea in literature. He’s the highest idea in philosophy. He’s the fundamental truth in theology. He’s the miracle of the age. He’s the only one able to supply all of our needs simultaneously. He supplies strength for the weak. He’s available for the tempted and the tried. He sympathizes and He saves. He guards and He guides. He heals the sick, He cleans the lepers. He forgives sinners, He discharges debtors, He delivers captives, He defends the feeble, He blesses the young, He serves the unfortunate, He regards the aged, He rewards the diligent, He beautifies the meek. Do you know Him?

Well, my king is the king of knowledge, He’s the well-spring of wisdom, He’s the doorway of deliverance, He’s the pathway of peace, He’s the roadway of righteousness, He’s the highway of holiness He’s the gateway of glory, He’s the master of the mighty, He’s the captain of the conquerors, He’s the head of the heroes, He’s the leader of the legislators, He’s the overseer of the overcomers, He’s the governor of governors, He’s the prince of princes, He’s the king of Kings and the Lord of Lords.

His life is matchless. His goodness is limitless. His mercy is everlasting. His love never changes. His word is enough. His grace is sufficient. His reign is righteous. His yoke is easy and His burden is light. Well. I wish I could describe Him to you. But He’s indescribable. Yes. He’s incomprehensible. He’s invincible, He’s irresistible. I’m trying to tell you, the Heavens cannot contain Him, let alone a man explain Him. You can’t get Him out of your mind. You can’t get Him off of your hands. You can’t outlive Him, and you can’t live without Him. Well. The Pharisees couldn’t stand Him, but they found out they couldn’t stop Him. Pilate couldn’t find any fault in Him. Herod couldn’t kill Him. Death couldn’t handle Him and the grave couldn’t hold Him. That’s my king!

He always has been, and He always will be. I’m talking about He [who] had no predecessor and He [who] has no successor. There was nobody before Him and there will be nobody after Him. You can’t impeach Him, and He’s not going to resign. We try to get prestige and honor and glory to ourselves, but the glory is all His. Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever, and ever, and ever, and ever. How long is that? And ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and when you get through with all of the forevers, then 'Amen'."

“Oh I wish I could describe him to you.”

The greatest miracle of grace, that God would not only save our souls but his second greatest gift, the love of parents.  Life's greatest disappointment that some children forget parents love so quickly.  Mortals are fallible, remembering parental risks-sacrifices only on that trek to the grave.  Do forgetting children actually think a dead mother or father can smell the flowers placed around a casket? 

Perhaps this is just one of the reasons that so many young people, and even older survivors, often attempt to fill a "void" with pills OR find solace at the bottom of a liquor or prescription bottle. 

Mankind's only venture into Godliness is showing kindness to others.  It is nothing new, in spite of everything: economic differences-skin color-mental and other disparity, it has always been there, perhaps that is why Jesus said, "Blessed are the meek."  (Matthew 5:5)  Those of us who have worked with the less gifted of the world have found that those with limited mental ability-different skin color-peculiar charisma often bless us most...their contribution to our lives a matter of giving us pleasure-joy-assurance.

On the plantation where my mother was raised, her father before her, his father before him, AND the old family house is still there.  That big old-drafty house survived the Civil War because it was the only house in the countryside that was used mostly as a hospital as well as funeral parlor.  Even Sherman's troops, the world's worst and most evil enemies, did not burn down that house...even though they were burning down all the houses and barns all around.  When I was a boy, all the chimneys left from burned homes were called Sherman's Monuments.  My grandmother told me that her mother was just a young girl, at the time; it was her job to take the milk cow way down in the woods to keep the troops from stealing the cow.  It was her brother's job to take the mule team way down in the woods to keep the troops from stealing the mules.  Of course, they cleaned out the smokehouses of all their meat, their hog pens of all their pigs and hogs, their chicken houses from all their chickens, and the corn crib from all its ability to feed Yankee horses.  You see, the Yankee troops lived off the land to make lives of the surviving southerners even more wretched; they would throw a dead dog into the well.  So, all the wells had to be camouflaged, so survivors would at least have water to drink, a cool place to put a bucket with milk for a baby or desperately ill person.  Can we even imagine young people way down in the woods, holding onto livestock-work animals, seeing nothing but great black smoke in the distance as Union troops burned and destroyed homes-barns-crops and anything else southern people needed for survival? 

One of my cousin's said to me (I am the oldest grandchild), "Who will we go to...to ask questions after you are gone?  You are the only one who knows about early family history."  I said, "Yes, while you young boys were out chasing a little white ball on a golf course or listening to some trash on modern technology, I was always listening to the conversations of my old relatives."  My grandmother told me about her mother telling her stories of the Civil War...the Yankee troops beautiful horses, how they hated everyone-everything that the country people held dear.

On the plantation, even when I was a child, far from the main house, much nearer the barns was a real old house, many would have thought it was a slave house but there were no slaves on my ancestors land, paternal or maternal, they were land owners but worked the land themselves.  However, there were black families who lived on the land with them.  In this particular old house, still surviving the erosion of time and weather...the large cooking fireplace, no glass in any windows (glass was very expensive and there was little glass in any pre or post Civil War houses, even my great grandfather's country store building did not have any glass in it) lived an old black man survivor named Elisha, the house was always called "Elisha's House".  Many of his family moved away, even into the towns.  But he chose to continue living and working on the farm.  There was a large cedar tree just outside his house, where he would sit in the shade on Sundays after he had worshiped at the church, built by my ancestors after the Civil War (1874).  At the church, the white men and boys would sit on the right-hand side of the building, white women and girls would sit on the left-hand side: the division petition was still there in the building when I was a child.  Black members of the community would sit in the balcony of the church.  The only time all would sit together, white families alongside black families, at a funeral.  Death was the great equalizer-broke down all segregation barriers.  Grief hits every human soul equally.

One morning, my great grandfather found Elisha dead in his house.  Other men on the farm dug a grave under that old cedar tree, which was still there when I was a boy and, Elisha, wrapped in the blanket which he was wrapped in during bad weather his entire life, was laid to rest.

Probably noone knew anything about Elisha's family or life, he had probably never been out of the county, at that time in history, had never heard a radio-airplane in the sky, but God knew all about him.  Then or now, with all the history around us-wars-travel-technology, has anything improved very much, would Elisha been better off knowing and exposed to all of what we call, today's progress?  Or content in his faith-work ethic-meek manner of living?  Was he wealthy?  It is good to remember, that you are at your very best this very moment.  You will never look better than you do right now, feel better than you do right now.  Now is all you have.