Kings and Chronicles 2

Leave or Remain

In the 9th century BCE, the people of the Kingdom of Israel had a choice to make: political and religious union with the rest of Canaan (the tribes they had previously fought against, such as the Philistines, Moabites and Ammonites, many of whom worshipped Baal); or independence through worship of their god, Yahweh. Elijah was a charismatic prophet who successfully persuaded Israel to worship only Yahweh and eschew a wider federation of tribes. This proved calamitous. In 720 BCE, the Kingdom of Israel was defeated by Assyria and in 587 BCE Jerusalem would be destroyed by the Babylonians and its people taken into slavery. Had Israel been allied to the other tribes of Canaan, it might have resisted Assyria and Babylon, those mighty powers in the East. This is a poem about Elijah and any commonality with a person called Nigel who lived in the early twenty-first century is entirely coincidental.

When they had crossed the Jordan, Elisha said to Elijah, ‘Let me inherit a double share of your spirit.’ Elijah replied, ‘You have asked a hard thing,

for I am old now, and as you know already

I have been a prophet in the business of disunity,

not with ourselves but the rest of Canaan,

the idolatry of its Federation.

 

If you think you can bear a share of my spirit

then hear of where I knelt to receive it:

my parents had trouble, so when I was a lad,

I was sent to a school for prophets in Gilead;

to learn the laws and the shibboleths

of the Lord’s anointed, righteous and rich

on account of their loyalty to kingdom and god,

scripture and history, empire and rod.

 

They’d fought the Philistines, Moab and Ammon,

burnt cities and bridges, orphaned children;

and out of these ashes came aspiration

for unity, collectivism, and a Federation

opening our markets to labour from abroad,

workers protected by universal laws

undermining our local structures –

loyalty to god and tribe were ruptured –

instead, meritocracy, multiculturalism;

I found no balm there; I ate with the ravens.

 

Then came a famine, financial catastrophe,

I fled to the frontiers, met sick and unhappy

underpaid workers on stolen vineyards

blaming migrants, foreign chancers.

I prophesied a kingdom that knew what they lacked,

would get our country back

(whilst hiding my privilege beneath a cloak –

a camel-skin coat of a common-sense bloke).

And a Lord picked me out,

put a sword in my mouth:

 

“How long will this nation sit on a fence:

remain in Canaan or seize independence!”

And so, a question, vital and complex,

Was reduced to a popularity contest:

Who can ignite a cow on Mount Carmel?

Is it I, Elijah, or the prophets of Baal?

They danced their dance of tired persuasion,

I lit a fire that would scorch a nation.

I won, of course I won, Hallelujah!

Now cut up the cow and close the border!

 

Once I walked on Mount Horeb’s highest peak,

looked down on our continent, it’s relative peace;

I remembered the wars before the Federation,

the Goliaths and ghettoes, the iron curtain.

I have seen the earthquake, fire and wind;

I have heard the still small voice of warning:

Assyria and Babylon pointing their weapons

At us, the Philistines and the rest of Canaan.

 

In frontier towns I’m remembered as a patriot

flying through heaven in a fiery chariot;

but I have deceived and weakened this land

for the sake of Gilead that old school band

of faithless prophets with delusions of the past,

their future is exile, a Babylonian path

If we want to preserve our rule of law –

respect for freedom, protection for the poor –

we need to unite with the rest of Canaan:

strength through trade and co-operation.

 

Elisha, you asked for a double share of my spirit;

well, my cloak is discarded, I can no longer wear it;

that sword is still deep down in my mouth,

please reach in and take it out!’

 

2019