Sunday, July 4, 2010

Field Notes #33: Preaching on July 4: "I Wanna Get Washed Up"

(That's me wading in the Dead Sea in the spring of 1995.)

The Jordan River is not a very big river in global terms, but it is an important resource in the dry land through which it runs. For millennia, many peoples have depended on its water, often clashing over use and ownership of the currents. In the Old Testament, the Jordan often outlines someone’s inheritance; it also has served as a border of ancient Israel and as the site of army encampments in times of war. In the New Testament, it is where the first Christians are baptized—and where Jesus himself is baptized. Today, many make pilgrimages to the Jordan River to stand in its waters and remember their baptism or to be baptized. I received a blessing from an old friend in this very river when I traveled to Israel at age 8. Of course, the Jordan’s history of conflict and warfare is far from over; it is still a symbol of national pride in the Arab/Israeli conflict, and disputes over land ownership and use of the water rage on even today.

This little river becomes a major player in the story we just heard from 2 Kings. The narrative is full of irony—servants, prophets and a small water source end up being more important than kings and generals. If this were a Hollywood film, Naaman and the king of Israel would be on the movie poster, but they end up looking pretty foolish. Naaman is told that a prophet in Israel can heal him, so he writes to the king. Either he misunderstands the servant girl or just assumes that if any help can come from Israel, surely it would come from royalty. Similarly, the king of Israel is immediately suspicious of Naaman’s request, assuming he is trying to pick a fight—remember, this is an enemy general occupying Israeli land. Notice that both men make assumptions, both of which turn out to be wrong. Because of their pride, communication breaks down and Naaman almost misses his chance to be healed.

On the other hand, the servant girl and Elisha barely make cameos in the story, but they’re the ones who know what’s going on. This shows that this passage isn’t about Naaman and the king of Israel. But it’s not about the servant or Elisha, either. This story is about God. God is the main character. It would be hard to create a movie poster for such a plot, but let’s explore this a little further.

God has a hand in events from the very beginning of this passage. God’s first mention is actually pretty strange: the writer says that God used Naaman to give Aram victory. But wait, these are the bad guys. This is victory against Israel, God’s chosen people. What’s that about? I have two theories: one, that this is evidence that although God is not just at work among his people; and two, this is dramatic irony—Naaman may not realize it, but he already has reason to be grateful to the God of Israel.

The next time God’s name is mentioned, the king of Israel is getting something right: He cries, “Am I God, to give death or life?” We can pretty safely assume that this is a rhetorical question, and the answer is “No.” I could go on for a while about the implications of this—suffice to say that when answered truthfully, this question impacts our thoughts and decisions on healthcare, war, the justice system and much, much more.

Scanning the passage further, God comes up again as part of the title “Elisha the man of God.” Interesting that Naaman went first for help to the king and not to the man of God. But Elisha reaches out to Naaman anyway, saying, “Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” Even Elisha doesn’t get it yet: the miracle that’s coming up isn’t about his legitimacy as a prophet; it’s about God’s power and mercy. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Elisha tells Naaman exactly what he must to do be cured: wash in the Jordan River seven times. Sounds pretty simple, right? But Naaman is downright offended at this. He was looking for something more impressive. He was a victorious general, after all; he deserved it! Naaman says, “I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy!” “For me,” he says. Naaman thinks he deserves a special miracle, not one that requires him to wash in a dinky river in Israel. And you know what else he says? “The Lord his God.” Naaman is not claiming the God of Israel in any form but a utilitarian one at this point. You’d think Elisha would just say, “Forget it.” And maybe he did—we don’t see Elisha again in this passage.

Luckily for Naaman, his servants keep their cool. Here we go with the minor characters again. I love what they say to their master: “If the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it?” Naaman wanted a flashy miracle. He wanted a magic trick or an impressive feat with which he could earn his healing. His pride was keeping him from the thing he needed most. The servants point out, “All he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean.’” “Wash, and be clean.” Naaman is embarrassed, insulted even, at the simplicity of the task. “Wash, and be clean.”

Naaman’s reaction reflects not only excessive pride but also a lack of trust. William Sloane Coffin said wisely, “faith is not believing without proof but trusting without reservation.” I’m never really bothered when someone challenges me that there is no proof for the existence of God. Reason and knowledge are a part of faith, but they are not its substance. Love and trust are. Naaman had reservations that kept him from trusting, the main one being that he had a preconceived notion of what the miracle he sought would look like.

Did you ever hear the joke about the man who climbed onto the roof of his house during a flood? He prayed and prayed to God to send him help as the waters rose closer and closer to the top of the house. Before long, some people paddled by in a canoe. “Come on!” they cried, “Let us get you out of here!” But the man replied, “No, I’m waiting for God to rescue me.” A little later, a family drove by in a motorboat and offered to pick him up; again the man refused. As the waters started to lap at his feet, a helicopter flew down and tried to rescue him; but he stayed put. Finally, the man drowned, and when he went to heaven, he immediately marched up to God. “I’ve been a faithful Christian all my life,” he said, “and I prayed for you to rescue me, and you didn’t! Where were you?” God replied, “Good grief man, I sent you a canoe, a motorboat and a helicopter. What more did you want from me?”

Naaman almost ends up in the same boat as that man. (Pun intended.) If the miracle wasn’t going to happen his way, he just wasn’t going to accept it. Good thing he listened to his servants.

The only other reference to God in this passage is a mention of Elisha again as “the man of God.” The story ends with Naaman washing in the Jordan and being cured of his disease. But if we look at the next verse, we see that this isn’t just a healing narrative. Here’s verse 15: “Then he returned to the man of God, he and all his company; he came and stood before him and said, ‘Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel.’” Elisha wanted to show Naaman that there was a prophet in Israel; he ended up introducing him to the God of Israel.

Here’s the interesting thing: Naaman’s faith was not a condition of his healing. His healing led to his faith. Here’s how Kathleen Robertson Farmer puts it: “It is his experience of salvation that brings about his faith, not the other way around! ...the grace of God is extended to those who do nothing to qualify for salvation.”

The response of many Christians to that statement may well be “No fair!” But if we’re honest with ourselves, the only thing we can do or say in response to this story’s message is to fall on our knees and say, “Thank God.” See, none of us can do anything to qualify for salvation. Nothing. God is not a vending machine in the sky; nor can we earn his love by being really good Christians. God’s love and mercy is offered to everyone, regardless of age, race, gender, social status, creed, culture...all that matters is their status as children of God—and that’s everybody. It’s never been a question as to whether the grace is available. The question has always been: will we accept it? All God says to us is, “Wash, and be clean.” In the musical Godspell, Jesus comes to John the Baptist and says, “I wanna get washed up.” That’s all we have to say. “I wanna get washed up.” I wanna get washed up.

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.


(My dad, brother and grandparents came to hear me preach!)

1 comments:

Leigh Edwards said...

Amen! That was really beautiful Sarah.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Field Notes #33: Preaching on July 4: "I Wanna Get Washed Up"

(That's me wading in the Dead Sea in the spring of 1995.)

The Jordan River is not a very big river in global terms, but it is an important resource in the dry land through which it runs. For millennia, many peoples have depended on its water, often clashing over use and ownership of the currents. In the Old Testament, the Jordan often outlines someone’s inheritance; it also has served as a border of ancient Israel and as the site of army encampments in times of war. In the New Testament, it is where the first Christians are baptized—and where Jesus himself is baptized. Today, many make pilgrimages to the Jordan River to stand in its waters and remember their baptism or to be baptized. I received a blessing from an old friend in this very river when I traveled to Israel at age 8. Of course, the Jordan’s history of conflict and warfare is far from over; it is still a symbol of national pride in the Arab/Israeli conflict, and disputes over land ownership and use of the water rage on even today.

This little river becomes a major player in the story we just heard from 2 Kings. The narrative is full of irony—servants, prophets and a small water source end up being more important than kings and generals. If this were a Hollywood film, Naaman and the king of Israel would be on the movie poster, but they end up looking pretty foolish. Naaman is told that a prophet in Israel can heal him, so he writes to the king. Either he misunderstands the servant girl or just assumes that if any help can come from Israel, surely it would come from royalty. Similarly, the king of Israel is immediately suspicious of Naaman’s request, assuming he is trying to pick a fight—remember, this is an enemy general occupying Israeli land. Notice that both men make assumptions, both of which turn out to be wrong. Because of their pride, communication breaks down and Naaman almost misses his chance to be healed.

On the other hand, the servant girl and Elisha barely make cameos in the story, but they’re the ones who know what’s going on. This shows that this passage isn’t about Naaman and the king of Israel. But it’s not about the servant or Elisha, either. This story is about God. God is the main character. It would be hard to create a movie poster for such a plot, but let’s explore this a little further.

God has a hand in events from the very beginning of this passage. God’s first mention is actually pretty strange: the writer says that God used Naaman to give Aram victory. But wait, these are the bad guys. This is victory against Israel, God’s chosen people. What’s that about? I have two theories: one, that this is evidence that although God is not just at work among his people; and two, this is dramatic irony—Naaman may not realize it, but he already has reason to be grateful to the God of Israel.

The next time God’s name is mentioned, the king of Israel is getting something right: He cries, “Am I God, to give death or life?” We can pretty safely assume that this is a rhetorical question, and the answer is “No.” I could go on for a while about the implications of this—suffice to say that when answered truthfully, this question impacts our thoughts and decisions on healthcare, war, the justice system and much, much more.

Scanning the passage further, God comes up again as part of the title “Elisha the man of God.” Interesting that Naaman went first for help to the king and not to the man of God. But Elisha reaches out to Naaman anyway, saying, “Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” Even Elisha doesn’t get it yet: the miracle that’s coming up isn’t about his legitimacy as a prophet; it’s about God’s power and mercy. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Elisha tells Naaman exactly what he must to do be cured: wash in the Jordan River seven times. Sounds pretty simple, right? But Naaman is downright offended at this. He was looking for something more impressive. He was a victorious general, after all; he deserved it! Naaman says, “I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy!” “For me,” he says. Naaman thinks he deserves a special miracle, not one that requires him to wash in a dinky river in Israel. And you know what else he says? “The Lord his God.” Naaman is not claiming the God of Israel in any form but a utilitarian one at this point. You’d think Elisha would just say, “Forget it.” And maybe he did—we don’t see Elisha again in this passage.

Luckily for Naaman, his servants keep their cool. Here we go with the minor characters again. I love what they say to their master: “If the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it?” Naaman wanted a flashy miracle. He wanted a magic trick or an impressive feat with which he could earn his healing. His pride was keeping him from the thing he needed most. The servants point out, “All he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean.’” “Wash, and be clean.” Naaman is embarrassed, insulted even, at the simplicity of the task. “Wash, and be clean.”

Naaman’s reaction reflects not only excessive pride but also a lack of trust. William Sloane Coffin said wisely, “faith is not believing without proof but trusting without reservation.” I’m never really bothered when someone challenges me that there is no proof for the existence of God. Reason and knowledge are a part of faith, but they are not its substance. Love and trust are. Naaman had reservations that kept him from trusting, the main one being that he had a preconceived notion of what the miracle he sought would look like.

Did you ever hear the joke about the man who climbed onto the roof of his house during a flood? He prayed and prayed to God to send him help as the waters rose closer and closer to the top of the house. Before long, some people paddled by in a canoe. “Come on!” they cried, “Let us get you out of here!” But the man replied, “No, I’m waiting for God to rescue me.” A little later, a family drove by in a motorboat and offered to pick him up; again the man refused. As the waters started to lap at his feet, a helicopter flew down and tried to rescue him; but he stayed put. Finally, the man drowned, and when he went to heaven, he immediately marched up to God. “I’ve been a faithful Christian all my life,” he said, “and I prayed for you to rescue me, and you didn’t! Where were you?” God replied, “Good grief man, I sent you a canoe, a motorboat and a helicopter. What more did you want from me?”

Naaman almost ends up in the same boat as that man. (Pun intended.) If the miracle wasn’t going to happen his way, he just wasn’t going to accept it. Good thing he listened to his servants.

The only other reference to God in this passage is a mention of Elisha again as “the man of God.” The story ends with Naaman washing in the Jordan and being cured of his disease. But if we look at the next verse, we see that this isn’t just a healing narrative. Here’s verse 15: “Then he returned to the man of God, he and all his company; he came and stood before him and said, ‘Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel.’” Elisha wanted to show Naaman that there was a prophet in Israel; he ended up introducing him to the God of Israel.

Here’s the interesting thing: Naaman’s faith was not a condition of his healing. His healing led to his faith. Here’s how Kathleen Robertson Farmer puts it: “It is his experience of salvation that brings about his faith, not the other way around! ...the grace of God is extended to those who do nothing to qualify for salvation.”

The response of many Christians to that statement may well be “No fair!” But if we’re honest with ourselves, the only thing we can do or say in response to this story’s message is to fall on our knees and say, “Thank God.” See, none of us can do anything to qualify for salvation. Nothing. God is not a vending machine in the sky; nor can we earn his love by being really good Christians. God’s love and mercy is offered to everyone, regardless of age, race, gender, social status, creed, culture...all that matters is their status as children of God—and that’s everybody. It’s never been a question as to whether the grace is available. The question has always been: will we accept it? All God says to us is, “Wash, and be clean.” In the musical Godspell, Jesus comes to John the Baptist and says, “I wanna get washed up.” That’s all we have to say. “I wanna get washed up.” I wanna get washed up.

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.


(My dad, brother and grandparents came to hear me preach!)

1 comments:

Leigh Edwards said...

Amen! That was really beautiful Sarah.

 

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