OUR LEGACY: WHAT WILL WE LEAVE BEHIND?

November 2, 2025 • Twenty-First Sunday after Pentecost, All Saints Day
Scripture Lesson: 2 Kings 2:1–14
Rev. Paul Fleck, Guest Preacher

[You can view the full worship video recording at: https://youtu.be/4k3svyu-ugw]

© iStock Image #2149284829, by filo, Used by permission

Introduction — A Story About Mantles

For starters, I had to look up what a mantle was in the dictionary: a loose sleeveless cloak or shawl. You are literally covered in this cloak.

When Elijah knew his ministry on earth was ending, he did not simply vanish. He invested in someone. He mentored. He poured into Elisha.

And when that fiery chariot carried Elijah into heaven, what fell to the ground?

A mantle. A symbol of covering over, to be sure. But also a symbol of power. A symbol of calling. A symbol of responsibility.

Elijah did not leave Elisha money. He left him purpose. Legacies aren’t measured in assets — they’re measured in impact.

The Mantle Moment

In today’s passage, Elisha picks up that mantle — literally and spiritually — and steps into the river the same way Elijah did. He takes a trembling breath: “Where is the God of Elijah?” And the waters part.

Legacy is not what we leave for people. It is what we leave in people.

The Church’s Legacy — The Mantle We Carry, A Beacon of Belonging

Think about the United Methodist Church of the Village. This congregation has been a mantle, a refuge, of hope, justice, and affirmation — especially for LGBTQ+ people who were told elsewhere that they did not belong. While other churches were shaming, excluding, and exiling, this church said: “You are loved. You are enough. You belong.”

“The Mantle Was Passed, Not Dropped”
A Narrative of Legacy and New Life: The Formation of The Church of the Village

In Scripture, when the prophet Elijah is taken up into the whirlwind, he does not leave Elisha empty-handed. He leaves a mantle — a symbol of power, identity, calling, and legacy.

Elisha picks it up and continues the work.
This is the rhythm of God:

  • One generation hands on the mantle.

  • The next generation picks it up.

  • The mission continues.

And that is exactly what happened here in Greenwich Village.

There were once three churches — three mantles.

1. The First Mantle — Memory and Roots

Metropolitan-Duane United Methodist Church
The mantle of deep Methodist heritage

Metropolitan-Duane carried one of the oldest Methodist lineages in New York City — stretching back to 1797. They baptized generations, married couples, buried saints. They built the sanctuary on 13th Street in 1932 — a physical witness to a long story of faithfulness.

Their mantle was stability, continuity, history, and sacred space. When they reached the edge of their chapter, they could have locked the doors and said, “We have done enough.” Instead — they removed their mantle and laid it down. They released the building. They released the name. They released ownership. Not as an act of surrender, but as an act of legacy. They entrusted their mantle to the future.

2. The Second Mantle — Courage and Justice

Washington Square United Methodist Church
The mantle of prophetic witness

Washington Square was not afraid of fire. In the 1960s and 70s, when nearly every church in Manhattan closed its doors to LGBTQ people, Washington Square threw theirs open.

Draft resisters slept in the church basement.
Activists organized in the sanctuary.
Queer couples found marriage counseling and pastoral care decades before the denomination allowed it.

Their mantle was courage, holy rebellion, and radical welcome.

When decline came and the end of their chapter approached, they could have dug in and preserved what was left. But instead — they took off their mantle and laid it down.

They did not say, “Remember us.”
They said, “Continue us.”

3. The Third Mantle — Hospitality and Multitude

The Church of All Nations / Iglesia de Todas Las Naciones
The mantle of multilingual, multicultural hospitality

Founded in 1904 to serve immigrant families, its ministries fed the hungry, welcomed newcomers, and embraced people regardless of language or citizenship.
People found dignity there.

Their mantle was hospitality to the stranger, multicultural worship, and solidarity with immigrants.

As their numbers thinned and their resources diminished, they could have quietly disappeared.

Instead — they laid down their mantle.

They did not cling to survival.
They entrusted their legacy to resurrection.

And Then — Something Holy Happened

In November 2005, all three congregations voted to end their own existence so that something greater might live. They placed their mantles — heritage, courage, hospitality — on the ground at the same moment. And like Elisha with Elijah’s mantle, a new congregation bent down and picked them up.

The Church of the Village was born — not out of scarcity, but out of legacy.

From Metropolitan-Duane came the mantle of history and sacred space.
From Washington Square came the mantle of justice, courage, and radical welcome.
From Church of All Nations came the mantle of multilingual, multicultural hospitality.

Three mantles, one mission.
They didn’t merge to survive.
They merged to resurrect.

**Legacy is not what we keep.
Legacy is what we release.**

Those congregations knew something profound:

Legacy is not clinging to what was.
Legacy is entrusting what was to what can be.

They practiced resurrection.
They believed the gospel enough to let go. There comes a moment when the mantle must change hands. They passed the mantle. And The Church of the Village picked it up.
That is Elijah throwing a mantle onto Elisha.

Now this church is very much at a liminal moment—an in between place-- in its history.  The UMC is a much safer and accepting place for LGBTQ persons.  But that does not mean that COTV is without purpose. 

Wherever there is a need for radical welcome, hospitality, and acceptance of persons marginalized by the Church and by society, there is going to be a need for churches like Church of the Village.  

The UMC “Death Tsunami” — and Why It’s the Wrong Lens

Dr. Lovett Weems has used a phrase about the UMC that makes everyone cringe: “The death tsunami.”

It refers to the fact that the majority of our denomination is aging. Many of our most faithful and generous members will pass away in the next 10–20 years.

But Elijah’s story reminds us: The passing of a generation is not a crisis. It is a transfer of calling.

The Greatest Wealth Transfer in U.S. History

Economists tell us that U.S. Baby Boomers are currently in the midst of the single largest intergenerational transfer of wealth in human history:

Between now and 2045, $70–$90 trillion will transfer from one generation to the next.  Yes, that’s trillion with a “T”. Of that, $9–$12 trillion will go to charitable causes.  Yes.  That’s trillion with a T.  

While some church leaders wring their hands and say, “We’re facing a death tsunami,” we should be proclaiming:

“We are standing in the middle of the greatest legacy moment the church has ever seen.”

It’s time to pass the mantle and strike the waters.  

The Mantle for This Generation

Elijah left a mantle. Boomers will leave a mantle. You and I are living in the handoff moment.

In the liminal moment COTV finds itself there is opportunity to pass the baton, receive the mantle, and launch into further ministry of inclusion and acceptance for future generations.  

Will the future of the church be accidental or intentional? 

Will wealth disappear into checking accounts and brokerage transfers… 

or will it build ministries that welcome immigrants, shelter neighbors, and make sure this sanctuary remains a place of radical welcome?

We stand at a riverbank like Elisha. We can play it safe… or we can strike the water.

A Personal Ask: A Legacy Commitment

If this church has ever healed you, or sheltered you, or affirmed you, then this church is part of your story.

I’m asking everyone to consider a legacy gift:
A percentage of your estate, a beneficiary designation, a planned gift that says: “After I am gone, my values will keep speaking.”  I’m going to transfer my hope to this church that has given hope to so many.  

Conclusion

When Elijah was gone, the story didn’t end. Elisha picked up the mantle… stepped toward the water… and made a holy decision: “The future starts with me.”

Now let’s talk about what you will do for this church and, by extension, to the ministry of this church in Greenwich Village.  What holy decisions will you make to continue to empower Church of the Village as a beacon of hope?

I’ve got some discussion questions for you to, well, discuss.  

And then I am going to be so bold as to ask you to make a commitment today, right here and right now, to bequeath a percentage of your wealth to a church that has meant so much to so many.  Let’s break up into discussion groups and make commitments to one another to do just that.  


Benediction

Go forth from this place as people who carry a mantle.
May you feel the weight — and the freedom — of legacy.
May your life testify to this truth:

That love is stronger than fear,
That hope is greater than despair,
That generosity outlives mortality.

May the God who gave Elijah courage, and Elisha vision, give you the boldness to strike the water and walk into God’s future.

Amen.

Copyright (c) 2025 - Paul Fleck
All rights reserved.