The
following is a sermon preached at Campus Chapel in Ann Arbor on August 25. The sermon is less exegetical and more of an interaction with the text of 2 Kings 5.
It started with a rumination on 2 Kings 5:13 (“But his servants approached and said to
him, “Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would
you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be
clean’?””) and then moved gradually into exploring how God enters into our
lives.
If
we were asked to do something hard,
I
think most of us would do it with conviction.
Especially
if it meant saving someone’s life.
Yet,
when this all started back in March,
we
were asked to wash our hands umpteen times a day.
Singing
a song so we would wash long enough.
And
then we were told to stay home to stay safe.
Where
are the heroics in that?
It
seemed so little.
And
even almost cowardly.
As
if we were afraid of illness and death.
At
first, it seemed so little,
And
so I didn’t understand why I chafed,
Why
was I protesting so strongly?
Why
do I want to turn away in anger, like Naaman in 2 Kings 5?
If
I had been commanded something difficult,
would
I not have done it?
How
much more then, when only this little is being asked of me?
Wash,
be clean, keep others clean.
And
then the protests started.
Protesting
masks. Protesting injustice.
And
I understood that the words, wash and be clean.
Actually
meant so much more:
Wash
away your ideas of control
Let
go of your life as it used to be.
For
Naaman, the command was an invitation.
Humble
yourself,
wash
yourself in the river of this other country,
follow
the strange commands of this prophet and his God.
Let
go of your life as it used to be.
Recognize
that all your best efforts cannot save you.
God
alone does the impossible.
And
we, we are invited to wash our hands,
Let
go of our plans.
Recognize
how little control we have over the future.
Deny
ourselves
Trusting
that God can use our small efforts to save lives.
Be
baptized by the water
That
washed away our sins
And
also washes away our good desires
That
sometimes grow
As
unhealthy as the disease that covered Naaman’s skin.
Naaman
returns to the prophet healed.
Deeply
thankful,
ready
to make a great sacrifice.
Except
he is not allowed to pay for the gift he received.
A
reminder again
that
no matter how mighty we are
God
does not need our help.
But
instead God invites us to keep asking.
On
top of the healing,
Naaman
asks for dirt.
Something
to take with him
So
that he can serve the God of Israel
While
not needing to give up everything in his life.
An
ancient prototype of technology, you could say
Allowing
Naaman to remain with those he cared about.
While
continuing to be reminded of God’s gift
And
so live in thankfulness for the gift he received.
Our
gifts today are internet and zoom,
Social
distancing and masks,
Keeping
us connected to those we love
Allowing
us to keep coming together.
As
we live into the rearrangement of our lives
That
began with a focus on washing our hands.
And
as hard as this time has been,
The
story of Naaman speaks
to
how God enters into our lives.
Challenging
and shaping us.
Inviting
us to wash ourselves
Opening
ourselves up to God cleansing
And
healing us.
Naaman’s
cleansing began with a stranger.
A
foreign captive in Naaman’s house.
Who
spoke up and was heard
Who
brought words of hope
A
promise of the impossible.
In
a time when distancing makes helping hard
When
every other person I interact with
could
be a potential threat
And
even those I love
Are
disrupting the order of my life.
How
does one keep loving and listening?
When
I’ve spent so much of the last months
With
barely enough energy left over,
How
do I care for those who are part of my communities?
my
next door neighbors?
Let
alone the foreigner and stranger
All
the potential threats.
How
do I not become contaminated by this illness
that
spreads through being connected?
How
does my physical distance
Not
become emotional and spiritual distance?
How
do I not become like the king who tore his robes:
How
dare you expect me to do something?
I
cannot heal others.
But
to ask that is to blind myself to the truth
That
God is the one who heals.
God
who has entered into our lives.
God
among us - Immanuel
Jesus
who healed so many during his time on earth
And
then conquered death
Before
returning where he reigns on high
God
the Spirit who is with us
This
God is the one who heals.
This
God can do the impossible:
This
God can renew our earth and climate;
Heal
the polarization in this land
Enact
changes to end structural racism.
And
this same God invites us,
Like
the servant girl,
To
be part of that healing.
Not
because our efforts will change the world.
But
because sometimes,
Like
the servant girl,
our
words are heard.
And
we become part of God’s
Entering
into the world.
The
servant girl spoke.
Naaman
listened.
Elisha
intervened.
God
acted.
And
so the impossible happened.
But,
oh we so want to claim
That
it was our voice that changed things.
Or
get some kind of reward
For
what we have done.
Or
perhaps simply we are tired
And
just want something to make life a little easier.
What
was Gehazi thinking?
The
request –
The
slight distortion of truth
Just
2 sets of clothes
And
some silver
How
could that be a big deal?
As
a child, I couldn’t believe Gehazi’s greed!
How
dare he!
And
as an adult,
I
see in him myself.
That
longing to be rewarded
For
all that I have done.
To
be compensated
For
that all I have given up.
And
God enters the story here,
Just
not perhaps the way we’d like.
Elisha
confronts Gehazi.
And
Gehazi is punished harshly.
Probably
not so much for his greed
As
for how he has distorted God’s image.
What
picture of God is shown
When
Naaman is able to ‘pay’ for his miracle
When
instead of radical grace
His
healing has shifted into a transaction
Especially
if that transaction comes from Gehazi’s desire
To
take advantage of their enemies.
Instead
of trusting that God does provide.
And
so God enters anew into Gehazi’s life
Through
sickness
And
what has often felt, to me,
a
harsh punishment.
But
Gehazi’s story does not end here
He
shows up again in chapter 8
In
the courts of the king, of all places!
He
is advocating for the Shunammite woman.
Reminding
the king of Elisha’s great deeds
Of
raising her dead boy to life again
While
also advocating that the king
Give
back to the Shunammite woman
The
land that she had left
And,
even more, giving her back all the income
That
her land produced in the time she was gone.
Radical
provision.
A
story of God providing
And
so I wonder,
if
the story might have more grace than we first might see.
If
God’s interruption of Gehazi’s life
Was
a catalyst for something new.
Something
good.
Being
open for God’s intervention
Washing
ourselves in the Jordan.
It
sounds simple.
Yet,
just like with Naaman, it asks so much more of us.
It
sounds like nothing heroic,
Except
to speak up with courage when needed
and
allow God to throw our whole lives into chaos
Rearrange
our schedules again and again.
Confronted
by how little control we have,
And
invited to offer our whole lives up to God.
This
invitation, as hard as it is, is also a gift.
Let
go of our efforts.
Trust
in those of God.
And
perhaps we will,
just
like in the stories of Elijah and Elisha,
Be
a witness to God showing up.
Be
a witness to the impossible.
In
the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit Amen.
