When Bears Come Running

 

2 Kings 2:23–25

“From there Elisha went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, some boys came out of the town and jeered at him. ‘Get out of here, baldy!’ they said. ‘Get out of here, baldy!’ He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the Lord. Then two bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the boys.”

At first glance, this feels… intense. I mean, name-calling and boom — bear attack. Is this the ancient equivalent of overreacting to a mean tweet?

But here’s where the irony gives way to reality:

• These “boys” weren’t innocent toddlers. The Hebrew word na’ar can refer to young men in their teens or twenties — the same term used for soldiers in some passages.

• Bethel wasn’t just any town. It was the spiritual heart of Israel’s idolatry under Jeroboam — home to a golden calf and a culture that mocked God’s messengers.

• “Go up, baldy” wasn’t about his hairstyle; it was a taunt for him to disappear like Elijah — implying Elisha wasn’t a true prophet and mocking the miracle that had just occurred.

In short, this was a public, deliberate rejection of God’s authority, not an innocent playground insult. The bears were not a knee-jerk punishment; they were an act of divine judgment on a community that had been shaking its fist at heaven for generations.

The irony? We modern readers stumble over the bears — but in the ancient Near Eastern worldview, the real shock was that anyone would dare mock a prophet of the living God in the first place.

Lesson: Sometimes the fiercest consequences in Scripture aren’t about what we think is a “big deal,” but about what God knows corrodes the soul. The bears just happened to be the delivery system that day.

Life is a Hero's Journey: The Call Beyond Comfort

Life has always been a journey of heroism.
Not the kind plastered on magazine covers
or shouted through movie trailers,
but the quiet, trembling kind—
the kind when a heart hears the whisper: “Come.”

The Hero’s Call

From ancient myths to modern superhero films,
the call to adventure is universal:
leave home, face chaos, return transformed.
Joseph Campbell called it “The Hero’s Journey.”
But long before Campbell, Scripture told it better—revealing heroes defined not by ambition, but by divine summons.

When God Calls

The Bible’s heroes weren’t chasing glory—they were answering God.
Abraham left Ur, trading safety for promise.
Moses left Midian, staff in hand, to confront Pharaoh’s empire.
David left the pasture, sling in hand, to face a giant.
Mary left anonymity, saying yes to bearing the Savior.

Every story begins the same way:
A comfort zone is left behind.
A trembling step is taken into the unknown.
And God meets them there.

The Reverse Hero

But Jesus’ story flips the pattern.
Most heroes rise from nothing to greatness—
Jesus descends from greatness to nothing.
The true King leaves heaven’s throne for earth’s dust.
Trades angels’ praise for human scorn.
He carries not a sword, but a cross.

And it’s that humility—
that descent—
that leads to ultimate victory.

“Though He was in the form of God…
He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant.”
— Philippians 2:6–7

Our Call Too

Following Him means more than leaving our comfort zones—
it means leaving self.
Choosing downward mobility.
Choosing service over spotlight.
Choosing the cross before the crown.
The adventure isn’t just daring—it’s humbling.
But in the Kingdom,
down is the way up.

Reflection

What “Ur” is God calling you out of?
And what “throne” is He calling you down from?
Could your small yes—even a courageous, trembling one—be the doorway into His greatest story yet?

Tagline:
Every epic begins with a courageous, trembling yes—and often, a humble descent.