Narrator (3:45)

The sun hung low in the sky. Heat shimmered in the air, bending the horizon like a mirage. It had been a long road. Too long, if Elisha were honest with himself. He had followed Elijah for years, through storms and famines, through victories and despair, through fire and whispers of God. And now the road was coming to an end. Elisha felt it in his bones. He just wasn't ready to say it aloud. Elijah walked ahead, his stride purposeful. He glanced sideways at his apprentice. Something deep inside him resisted. He would not name the feeling because naming it would make it real. He would simply walk, and when the time came, he would go. Elisha broke the silence with a grin.

Elisha (4:45)

So, Master, you're finally getting what you always wanted.

Narrator (4:51)

Elijah said nothing. He kept walking, his staff tapping against the road. Elisha waited, then sighed dramatically.

Elisha (5:02)

After all these years of groaning to the Lord, pleading for him to take you away, bemoaning the burden of prophecy, at last your wish is granted. Shall I weep for you, or shall I rejoice?

Elijah (5:18)

Weeping would be excessive, and your rejoicing would be insincere.

Narrator (5:25)

Elisha smirked, but the humor sat heavy on his tongue. He did not want this to be their last conversation. He did not want to walk this road alone.

Elisha (5:37)

So what's the plan? Will you start a fight on your way out? One last rant at Jezebel? Perhaps you'll shove a worshiper of BAAL into a ditch just to set the tone for the next generation.

Elijah (5:50)

Tempting, but no. It is time for you to deal with them now. Ahab's house still lingers like the like the stink of the dead ox in the sun. His sons, his alliances, his witch of a queen. All of it will be your burden, not mine.

Elisha (6:13)

Oh, good. I was so worried I would have nothing to do.

Narrator (6:18)

Up ahead, a cluster of figures loomed near the roadside. Young prophets, each of them wearing insufferable grins on their faces. Prophesying had become an upper class sport for the elite of Israel. Every noble and rich merchant sent their sons to school to become professional prophets to bless the halls of kings, commanders, and aristocrats. One of them, a sharp nosed man with the kind of expression that suggested he had corrected many people's understanding of the Torah. Unprompted, stepped forward, practically vibrating with self importance.

Elijah (7:00)

Elisha, have you heard? God has revealed it to us today. Elijah, your master will be taken from you.

Elisha (7:10)

Oh, what a revelation. What a grand unveiling of the mysteries of heaven. If only I myself were a prophet, perhaps I too might have discerned this truth.

Narrator (7:21)

The prophet looked momentarily confused, then offended. Elijah, standing just behind Elisha, let out a low chuckle. They passed the group of men with a dismissive wave. The road stretched ahead, endless and empty, save for the weight pressing down on both of them. Elijah began to feel it, the pull, the nearing moment. He had not wanted Elisha to come this far and had tried more than once to leave him behind. Not because he did not love him. No, that was the problem. He had taken Elisha under his wing, expecting another student, another apprentice. Instead, he had found a son. And now he had to leave him.

Elijah (8:12)

Elisha, you do not have to come with me.

Narrator (8:16)

No, I will not leave you. Elijah sighed. The words were simple, but beneath them was something raw, something unspoken. The road had always been lonely. Perhaps for this last stretch it did not have to be. They walked on. The sun inched lower. The world held its breath. The river lay before them, a great sluggish thing, dark and wide, a barrier between where they stood and what lay beyond. The air was different here, thick with the kind of tension that only came before something irreversible. Elijah, standing at the water's edge, planted his staff into the earth and stared across, saying nothing. He had always been a man of action rather than explanation. He was more storm than man at this point, a force of nature used by God for judgment. Yet here now, with Elisha at his side for the last time, he felt painfully human. The sound of the river soothed his anxiety. Elisha, sensing the tension, pointed to the water.

Elisha (9:41)

So how are we crossing? Shall I fetch you a raft, or will you call down a pillar of fire to evaporate the river? That would be quite the farewell.

Narrator (9:50)

Elijah exhaled sharply through his nose, a sound that could almost be mistaken for amusement. He unfastened his robe, the worn, red, tattered thing that had hung from his shoulders through years of drought, persecution, and the fire of Mount Carmel. Rolling it in his hands, he lifted it high and brought it down against the surface of the river. The waters recoiled. A shudder ran through the ground as the river peeled apart, its depths, standing back in defiance of nature itself. A dry path stretched before them, the riverbed cracked and waiting.

Elisha (10:32)

Oh, well, that works too, I suppose. Moses will be proud.

Narrator (10:37)

They walked across the walls of water towering around them. When they reached the far shore, Elijah stopped. The road had ended. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, without turning, Elijah finally asked, tell me, Elisha, what would you have of.

Elijah (11:00)

Me before I go?

Narrator (11:03)

Elisha had not expected the question. The answer surged up before he could stop. It Raw and unfiltered.

Elijah (11:13)

Stay.

Narrator (11:15)

The words sat between them, fragile as glass. Elijah did not move, but the silence was answer enough.

Elisha (11:24)

You could not, even if you wish to. I know. I just. I'm not ready.

Elijah (11:31)

You doubt yourself, huh?

Elisha (11:34)

Master? Of course I doubt myself. I've watched you stand alone against kings and slaughter false prophets. I've even seen you call down fire and part rivers. And now you're leaving me to take your place. I am not you, Master. I have no fire, no boldness, no strength. The only thing I know how to do is pray.

Elijah (12:00)

When you know enough.

Elisha (12:03)

No, I don't, Master. I'm not half the man you are. If I'm going to survive in this calling, this path, please grant me a double portion of your spirit.

Narrator (12:17)

Elijah stilled. His expression did not change, but something flickered behind his eyes. For a long moment, he simply studied Elisha, as if weighing the request, measuring the man before him.

Elijah (12:32)

You ask me a hard thing.

Elisha (12:36)

I ask because I have no choice. If I am to carry this mantle, if I am to face what you faced, then I need what you had more than what you had.

Elijah (12:49)

If you see me when I am taken up, taken in the Chariot of the Spirits, then you will know in your heart that Yahweh has granted your request. But if not, then it is not mine.

Narrator (13:03)

Forgive. He let the words settle, let them sink in. But then his gaze sharpened, something like quiet amusement glinting at the edges of his expression. Elisha frowned. His anxiety spread all over his face.

Elijah (13:22)

You always had so much boldness when you were standing behind me, Elisha. If only you could see that it is the Lord who stands behind you.

Narrator (13:36)

Elisha's breath caught. Tears stung the corners of his eyes. His lips parted slightly, as if to respond, but nothing came. Elijah let the silence linger just a moment longer. Then, without breaking eye contact, he crouched, picking up a small, jagged stick from the ground, rolling it between his fingers.

Elijah (14:01)

Tell me, Elisha, which is stronger, the arrow or the archer?

Narrator (14:09)

Elisha stared at his master.

Elisha (14:12)

This is a strange question.

Elijah (14:15)

Shut your mouth and listen.

Narrator (14:17)

Elijah turned the twig over in his palm, as though weighing it. It was time for one final lesson.

Elijah (14:26)

Let's say a great warrior, a giant like Goliath, stands before you, and let's say you place an arrow at his feet. What happens?

Elisha (14:38)

He crushes it beneath his heel.

Elijah (14:41)

Because the arrow by itself is nothing.

Narrator (14:45)

It's weak.

Elijah (14:46)

It's pathetic. But if that same arrow rests in the hands of a skilled archer.

Narrator (14:55)

Elisha exhaled. He already knew where this was going. It flies true through the eye of the. The giant. Elijah let the words settle.

Elijah (15:08)

I have never been powerful, Elisha. I have never been great. I am an old, tired man. It is Yahweh who is powerful. I have only ever been. An arrow in his hands.

Narrator (15:28)

Elisha swallowed his throat tight. The wind shifted. The heat in the air deepened, heavy and electric. A storm with no rain. Elijah's gaze lifted to the sky. The time had come. The ground trembled. Elisha felt it before he heard it. The vibration in his bones, the shifting of the dust beneath his feet. A sound deep and resonant, like a storm circling inside the earth itself. His breath hitched. He turned to his master. Elijah stood at the edge of the world, gazing out at the horizon. His eyes, old and weary now, burned with something new, something fierce. Anticipation. And then the sky split open. A whirlwind of fire spiraled down from the heavens, splitting the very air apart. It ripped through the atmosphere, a force too vast for mortal minds to comprehend. Elisha staggered back, raising his arms to shield his face. The heat blistered his skin. The light seared his eyes. Then he saw them. The horses. Their lanes burned with. With celestial fire. Their oomph struck sparks against the air itself. They thundered a stampede of light and fury. Behind them was a chariot. It was forged of flame and glory, of power beyond this realm. The wheels spun. Each spoke a whirlwind of fire. The breath of God filled the air. Elijah's lips parted. He stared in wonder and acceptance. Elijah raised his hands, beckoning the chariot. And then he laughed. Yes.

Elijah (17:35)

At last.

Elisha (17:39)

Master.

Narrator (17:41)

Elijah turned to young Elisha, and for the first time in years, his face was free of pain. His eyes full of tears, alight with fire and something deeper. Peace.

Elijah (17:57)

The time has come, my boy.

Narrator (17:59)

Be strong.

Elijah (18:00)

Be courageous.

Narrator (18:02)

Elisha reached for his master. His fingers curled around the edge of Elijah's cloak, but the wind ripped it from his grasp. The chariot descended. The whirlwind howled.

Elisha (18:16)

Father. Father, don't leave me.

Narrator (18:20)

His voice broke. The words tore from his throat, raw and desperate. Not the cry of a prophet, but of a losing the man he loved most. The fire enveloped Elijah, wrapping him in light, lifting him from the earth. His form blurred. First flesh, then flame. Then something beyond even that. And as he rose, he cast one last look down at Elisha and smirked.

Elijah (18:56)

Try not to burn the whole place down, son.

Narrator (18:59)

Then Elijah. Elisha was gone. Gone. Elisha collapsed. His knees struck the earth. His hands dug into the dust where his master had stood. His breath came in ragged gasps. Silence. The fire was gone. The wind had ceased. The world, so loud a moment ago, was now unbearably quiet. Only one thing remained. Elijah's mantle lay in the dust, caught in the fingers of the breeze, weightless and waiting. The last remnant of a man who had once called down fire from the heavens. A man who had defied kings, slain false prophets, outrun chariots, and walk through famine and war with nothing but the certainty that God was enough. Elisha reached out with shaking fingers. He had expected it to be warm, to still carry the fire of his master's departure, but it wasn't. It was just cloth. A weight settled deep in his chest. He sat back on his heels, gripping the mantle in his fists, his breath coming fast and uneven.

Elisha (20:30)

He's gone. He's actually gone.

Narrator (20:34)

What am I supposed to do now? The wind shifted. The river murmured before him, a slow, unyielding barrier. He had crossed it with Elijah. Now he stood before it, alone.

Elisha (20:49)

Oh, this is ridiculous. He was one man who did all of this. The fire, the power, the miracles. Him, not me.

Narrator (20:59)

The whisper of doubt dug deeper. What if it was not enough? What if he was not enough? Elisha turned, looking over his shoulder, half expecting, half hoping to see Elijah standing there, watching, grinning, giving him one last impossible task before vanishing into the wilderness. But there was no one. He was alone.

Elisha (21:27)

This mantle should have gone to someone else, someone stronger, someone worthy.

Narrator (21:34)

The river didn't move.

Elisha (21:36)

God, what am I supposed to do? You took him, and now I'm supposed to what? Walk in his place?

Narrator (21:45)

The doubt curled around him like a snake.

Elisha (21:49)

I can't. I'm not Elijah.

Narrator (21:52)

I'll never be. And then a still, small voice. Not from the sky, not from fire, but from memory. Be the arrow. The wind stirred. Elisha sucked in a sharp breath. The river whispered before him, waiting. The choice was his. He exhaled, stood, stepped forward, and lifted the mantle high. His voice rang out, steady and unchanged, but no longer uncertain.

Elisha (22:31)

Lord, God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, God of Joseph and Moses, God of Elijah, my God, I am your servant. Show me your power.

Narrator (22:45)

Elisha lifted Elijah's robe and struck the water. The river recoiled, the same way it had for his master. The waters peeled away, shuddering, parting. A dry path yawned before him. The answer had come. His heart thundered in his chest. His mind warred against itself. This is real. This is happening. The mantle is mine. This calling is mine. This weight is mine. He took a step forward, then another. Then he walked straight through the river, the waters standing still around him until he reached the far shore. The Prophets were waiting. Their expressions, once doubtful, now carried something new. They had seen what he had done. They had seen the waters move at his word, and they knew. They fell to their knees.

Elijah (23:53)

The spirit of Elijah rests on Elisha.

Narrator (23:57)

Elisha said nothing. He did not bask in their reverence, nor did he rebuke them. He simply stood there, feeling the weight settle onto his shoulders. One of the younger prophets stepped forward, wide eyed, staring at him as if seeing him for the first time. Master Elisha. You.

Elijah (24:20)

You parted the waters.

Narrator (24:23)

Elisha turned to look at the river behind him, now whole again, as if nothing had ever happened. He exhaled through his nose. No. The young prophet blinked, confused. Elisha turned back to them, adjusting the mantle on his shoulders. His voice was steady, quiet, but unshakable.

Elisha (24:47)

It was the Lord who parted the waters, not I. He is the archer. I am just the arrow.

Narrator (24:54)

The road ahead stretched wide and uncertain. Ahab's house still lingered like a disease. Jezebel still breathed. There was work to do. Elisha walked on. But he knew he did not walk alone.

Yael Eckstein (25:18)

If your faith has been kindled by this podcast and it has affected your life, we'd love it if you left a review. We read them and me personally, I cherish them. As you venture forth boldly and faithfully, I leave you with the biblical Blessing from Numbers 6. May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord make His face shine upon you. May he be gracious to you. May the Lord turn His face towards you and give you peace.

Narrator (25:59)

Amen. You can listen to the Chosen People with Yael Eckstein ad free by downloading and subscribing to ThePray.com app today. This prey.com production is only made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents. Steve Catena, Max Bard, Zach Schellewager and Ben Gammon are the executive producers of the Chosen People with Yael Eckstein. Edited by Alberto Avila Narrated by Paul Coltofianu. Characters are voiced by Jonathan Cotton, Aaron Salvato, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan, Stephen Ringwald, Sylvia zaradoc, Thomas Copeland Jr. Rosanna Pilcher and Mitch Leschinsky and the opening prayer is voiced by John Moore. Music by Andrew Morgan Smith. Written by Aaron Salvato, Bree Rosalie, and Chris Baig. Special thanks to Bishop Paul Lanier, Robin Van Etten, Caleb Burrows, Jocelyn Fuller, Rabbi Edward Abramson and the team at International Fellowship of Christians and Jews. You can hear more prey.com productions on the prey.com app, available on the Apple App Store and Google Play Store. If you enjoyed the Chosen People with Yael Eckstein. Please rate and leave a review. This is an iHeart podcast.