The story of Gehazi, the servant of the prophet Elisha, offers a fascinating glimpse into just such a situation.

Gehazi, you see, wasn't exactly keen on sharing his master's wisdom. According to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews, Gehazi actively tried to keep other potential disciples away from Elisha's home. Imagine that! The prophet’s own attendant, acting as a gatekeeper, deciding who was worthy and who wasn’t.

Why would he do such a thing? Well, Gehazi apparently had a system. He'd stand right outside the door, making it seem like the house was already packed with students. People, seeing him there, would assume there was no room and turn away. “If the house weren’t full,” they figured, “Gehazi wouldn’t be standing outside.” It’s a clever, if rather selfish, strategy.

Think about it. How many times have we perhaps been subtly discouraged, even unconsciously, from pursuing something we were truly interested in? Maybe not by a gatekeeper like Gehazi, but by circumstances or individuals who unintentionally (or intentionally!) created barriers.

It wasn't until Gehazi was dismissed from his position that things really started to change. Only then did the number of Elisha's disciples increase "marvellously," the Legends of the Jews tells us. It's as if Gehazi's absence unlocked a floodgate of potential students, eager to learn from the prophet.

But what was Gehazi's problem, really? Was it just a power trip? Perhaps it was more fundamental. The text hints at a deeper issue: a lack of faith. Specifically, Gehazi’s lack of faith in the resurrection of the dead. This is evidenced, the text suggests, by his incredulity when Elisha resurrected the son of the Shunammite woman (2 Kings 4:8-37).

This miracle, a profound demonstration of divine power, apparently didn't move Gehazi. He couldn't believe it. Maybe his skepticism stemmed from a narrow worldview, an inability to grasp the boundless possibilities of the divine. And perhaps that same limited perspective motivated him to hoard Elisha’s teachings for himself.

So, what's the takeaway? Gehazi's story serves as a cautionary tale. It reminds us to examine our own motivations when we find ourselves acting as gatekeepers, whether intentionally or not. Are we truly open to sharing knowledge and opportunity, or are we, like Gehazi, inadvertently blocking the path for others? And more importantly, are we open to believing in the impossible?