The Staff and the Secret Place

2 Kings 4:29–37

²⁹ Then he said to Gehazi, “Get yourself ready, and take my staff in your hand, and be on your way. If you meet anyone, do not greet him; and if anyone greets you, do not answer him; but lay my staff on the face of the child.”

³⁰ And the mother of the child said, “As the Lord lives, and as your soul lives, I will not leave you.” So he arose and followed her. ³¹ Now Gehazi went on ahead of them, and laid the staff on the face of the child; but there was neither voice nor hearing. Therefore he went back to meet him, and told him, saying, “The child has not awakened.”

³² When Elisha came into the house, there was the child, lying dead on his bed. ³³ He went in therefore, shut the door behind the two of them, and prayed to the Lord. ³⁴ And he went up and lay on the child, and put his mouth on his mouth, his eyes on his eyes, and his hands on his hands; and he stretched himself out on the child, and the flesh of the child became warm. ³⁵ He returned and walked back and forth in the house, and again went up and stretched himself out on him; then the child sneezed seven times, and the child opened his eyes. ³⁶ And he called Gehazi and said, “Call this Shunammite woman.” So he called her. And when she came in to him, he said, “Pick up your son.” ³⁷ So she went in, fell at his feet, and bowed to the ground; then she picked up her son and went out.

The story of Gehazi and Elisha in 2 Kings 4 gives us a powerful picture of how a generation must be formed for ministry. Gehazi should not simply be viewed as an example of failure. His life also shows us the tragedy of opportunity without formation.

He was close enough to Elisha to witness miracles.

He was close enough to hear prophetic conversations.

He was close enough to receive assignments.

He was even trusted enough for Elisha to place his own staff into Gehazi’s hand. Yet proximity to anointing could never substitute for personal formation by God. Being around an anointed person is not the same thing as developing an anointed life.

When the Shunammite woman’s son died, Elisha told Gehazi to take his staff and place it upon the child. Gehazi obeyed. He had the right staff. He had the right instructions. He had been sent by the right man. He went to the right house and placed the staff where Elisha told him to place it. Everything appeared as though it should have worked, but 2 Kings 4:31 says, “there was neither voice nor hearing.” Gehazi returned and said, “The child has not awakened.” That is a sobering moment because it teaches us that it is possible to possess the correct method and still need something deeper.

Gehazi went out carrying something; Elisha went in seeking Someone. That is the contrast that burns in my heart. Gehazi went out with the staff in his hand, but when Elisha arrived, the Bible says, “He went in therefore, shut the door behind the two of them, and prayed to the LORD” (2 Kings 4:33). The staff was not wrong. Elisha himself had given it to Gehazi. But the staff had limitations.

When the staff could go no farther, Elisha knew where to go. He knew how to shut the door. He knew how to pray. He knew that the power had never ultimately been in the staff; the power belonged to the God whom the staff represented.

This is important for everyone being trained in prophetic ministry.

Bible colleges are useful.

Prophetic classes are useful.

Books are useful.

Commentaries are useful.

Teachers are useful. Mentors are useful.

Sermon notes are useful.

Ministry exercises are useful.

All of these can become staffs placed into our hands, and we should be thankful for them. But the staff was useful; it could never replace the God of Elisha. We must never allow the tools God gives us to replace the relationship those tools were intended to strengthen.

There is a tremendous difference between learning how ministry works and knowing the God from whom ministry comes.

We can teach someone how to prepare a sermon.

We can teach prophetic principles.

We can teach someone how to recognize different ways God may communicate.

We can teach order, accountability, discernment, and the biblical boundaries of prophetic ministry.

We can teach the difference between revelation and authorization.

We can even provide opportunities for people to practice ministering. But there is one thing we cannot give another person: their personal history with God.

There comes a point where another person’s revelation can take you no farther. You can carry your teacher’s notes. You can repeat your pastor’s message. You can remember your mentor’s testimony. You can learn the language of prophetic ministry and understand how spiritual gifts operate. But eventually you will stand before something that will not respond merely because you know what somebody else did.

Eventually you will encounter a situation for which there is no page in your notebook. There will be a moment when yesterday’s method does not seem to produce today’s breakthrough. That moment will expose whether you merely learned how ministry works or whether you have learned how to find God for yourself.

Eventually every staff has to stop at the door of the secret place.

Your teacher cannot walk through that door for you. Your pastor cannot walk through that door for you. Your mentor cannot walk through that door for you. Your Bible college cannot walk through that door for you. Your prophetic class cannot walk through that door for you.

They can bring you to the doorway. They can tell you why the doorway matters. They can testify about what they have experienced on the other side. They can encourage you to enter. But eventually you must walk through that door and meet with God for yourself.

This is why we must be careful that we do not raise a generation that knows how to carry our staff but does not know how to shut the door. We do not merely need young ministers who know our terminology. We need young ministers who know His presence. We do not merely need people who can repeat what we have heard from God. We need people who have learned to hear Him for themselves. We do not merely need people who can imitate our preaching, our praying, or our prophetic language.

We need men and women who have developed their own secret place with God.

Do not raise a generation that knows how to carry your staff but does not know how to shut the door.

Someday they will encounter something that does not respond to the staff. Someday there will be no teacher standing beside them. There will be no classroom exercise explaining exactly what to do. There may not be a pastor available to give them an immediate answer. There will be situations that stretch beyond their previous experience. When that day comes, the most important thing we could ever have taught them is not merely how to carry what we gave them, but how to go in, shut the door, and pray to the LORD.

That is why the secret place must remain at the center of prophetic formation. We can become so interested in learning to hear that we forget to know the One who speaks. We can become so interested in visions that we forget to seek the face of the One who gives them. We can become fascinated with prophecy while neglecting prayer.

We can desire manifestations without developing relationship. But gifts can never become a substitute for the Giver. The secret place keeps the gift connected to the heart of God.

Perhaps this is one of the greatest opportunities Gehazi had. His greatest opportunity was not carrying Elisha’s staff. His greatest opportunity was living close enough to watch a man who knew how to shut the door and pray. Gehazi could observe what Elisha did when the staff did not work. He could learn that when methods reached their limits, relationship did not. He could discover that the secret of Elisha’s ministry was not found merely in something Elisha carried in his hand. Behind the staff was a man who knew God.

This is also where the difference between Elisha and Gehazi becomes so instructive. Elisha had once followed Elijah. Elijah repeatedly told him to remain behind, but Elisha continued with him. When Elijah asked what he desired, Elisha said, “Please let a double portion of your spirit be upon me” (2 Kings 2:9). Elisha was not merely chasing Elijah’s possessions; he desired what rested upon Elijah’s life. Later, Gehazi would run after Naaman for silver and garments after Elisha had refused them. The contrast is striking. Elisha followed Elijah pursuing the mantle; Gehazi followed Elisha but eventually pursued the money. The outward actions revealed something about what was being formed inwardly.

That is why character matters in prophetic ministry. Proximity to anointing is not the same thing as formation by anointing. Someone can be around spiritual gifts and never allow the Holy Spirit to deeply form their character. They can learn the movements of ministry without developing the heart behind ministry. They can carry a staff publicly while neglecting the secret place privately. But eventually the assignment will demand something that imitation cannot provide.

This also connects directly with the principle that revelation is not authorization. Prophetic maturity is not merely seeing correctly or hearing correctly. Prophetic maturity is seeing, hearing, discerning, waiting, and then obeying correctly.

Sometimes God reveals something for us to speak. Sometimes He reveals something for us to pray about. Sometimes He shows one person what another person will eventually speak. Sometimes our assignment is confirmation. Sometimes it is intercession. Sometimes it is silence. The secret place teaches us not merely how to receive revelation but how to carry revelation responsibly.

This is why my goal as a teacher cannot be to make people dependent upon my voice. If those I teach always need me to tell them what God is saying, then I have not finished the assignment. I want to help them recognize His voice. I want to teach them biblical boundaries. I want to help them discern. I want to correct them when necessary and affirm them when appropriate. But ultimately, the goal is not that the next generation needs our voice forever; the goal is that they learn to recognize His voice for themselves.

There is a simple way I see all of this: the staff represents what can be taught; the closed door represents what must be learned with God.

I can teach someone biblical principles.

I can share what experience has taught me.

I can warn them about mistakes I have made.

I can put tools into their hands.

That is the staff. But…

I cannot manufacture their prayer life.

I cannot create their hunger.

I cannot surrender for them.

I cannot develop their intimacy with God for them.

At some point they must shut the door.

So carry the staff. Learn everything you can. Study the Word. Listen to your teachers. Honor your mentors. Receive correction. Develop your gift. Learn how to work with others. Understand prophetic order. Learn when to speak and when to remain silent. But never confuse the staff with the source of the anointing.

There will eventually come a child that does not respond to your staff. There will eventually come a situation your notes cannot answer. There will eventually come an assignment greater than your present experience. And when that moment comes, know where the door is.

Put down the staff.

Go inside.

Shut the door.

Pray to the LORD.

Because the staff may be placed into your hand by another person, but the secret place must be entered for yourself.

And if we can teach this generation both how to carry the staff and when to put it down then perhaps, we will raise something greater than imitators. We will raise men and women who know Scripture, honor spiritual authority, work together, handle revelation responsibly, and, above everything else, know their God.

The staff represents what can be taught; the closed door represents what must be learned with God.”