When God first spoke through Hosea, Hosea’s instructions were, “Go, take for yourself a wife of unfaithfulness, and have children of unfaithfulness, for the land commits great unfaithfulness by prostituting itself to other Gods, and forsaking the one God.” So he went and took Gomer daughter of Diblaim, and she gave birth to a baby boy..
God said to him, “Name him Jezreel; for in a little while I will punish the house of Jehu for the blood of Jezreel, and I will put an end to the kingdom of the house of Israel. On that day I will break the bow of Israel in the valley of Jezreel.”
Gomer became pregnant again and gave birth to a daughter. Then God said, “Name her Lo-ruhamah, for I will no longer have pity on the house of Israel or forgive them. I will have pity on the house of Judah, and I will save them by their God; I will not save them by bow, or by sword, or by war, or by horses, or by horsemen.”
When Gomer had weaned Lo-ruhamah, she again became pregnant and had a son. Then God said, “Name him Lo-ammi, for you are not my people and I am not your God.”
Yet the number of the people of Israel shall be like the sand of the sea, which can be neither measured nor numbered; and in the place where it was said to them, “You are not my people,” it shall be said to them, “Children of the living God.”
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You should have seen the babies! Just so beautiful, each one of them. Black curly hair, dark raisin eyes, dimpled cheeks, a sparkle in their eyes, and light in their laughter. Each baby had a different laugh. We had three children. Each time I carried the baby well...and easy births, all three. The mid-wives used to say I was just made for having babies, that it was too bad I only had three, that with the number of babies around dying, we could have had a family as big as Abraham's"
My name? I am Gomer. My name means “complete”, or “enough”. I have no idea what my father was thinking when he named me, maybe he figured I was enough. Apparently I cried a lot. Let me tell you I was pretty upset with the names Hosea chose for our children. What was *he* thinking? Jezreel for our first born son, Lo-ruhamah for our only daughter, and Lo-ammi for our lastborn son.
The names won’t mean anything to you, but they mean a lot to my people, the Israelite people. It’s a mystery to me what was going on in Hosea’s head; he got this religion thing, and kept on telling me that God had even told him who to marry. Well, the others couldn't believe it that day when Hosea walked into the temple of Baal, took one look at me, and said "That's her!" "That's the one!" At first it was misunderstood; everyone just thought the woman he wanted was me, as if he were a petitioner to Baal, and I was to fulfill my role as a cultic prostitute. Then he said he wanted to marry me!
“Yeah, right” I thought, “A donation to the temple in exchange for my services, and then he won’t be around again.” So I started to prepare the incense, and prepare my body for the work of Baal. But Hosea said he meant it, that I would belong to him...be his woman...have his children, that I didn’t have to work as a cult priestess in the temple of Baal any more. I could have a regular tent for sleeping, cook over my own fire in my own place, and I would belong to his people.
Now I'll tell you what the names meant. Jezreel, the first one; his name is *really* about sowing seed, in the ordinary sense of planting seed in the field..... but not in those days. In fact it was a really big threat. It has to do with how the Omrites got overcome in the valley of Jezreel, and how God meant that to be a message for the people of Israel. You should have seen how mean the kids were to Jezreel. He came home many a time beaten up because of his name.
Then the second one, our daughter. I begged for a nice plain name like Sarah, but he insisted. This one was called Lo-ruhamah. In our language it means "Unloved". I just didn't get it. How could we raise a daughter named “Unloved”? But Hosea explained that God meant to love the people of Israel no longer. The people of Judah would be favoured, but not our people. Why? I asked, what have they done?
Hosea replied that they had spent too much time going after other idols......they couldn't take a commitment to God through thick and thin. So Hosea named our daughter "No more love".
Then the third child came - another boy. Would you believe it? This name topped it all off. His name is Lo-ammi. It meant our people were gone, out of the sight of God. Cut off. Finished. In my language his name meant "You are not my people, and I am not your God".
But without God, we were a people in darkness. Hosea told me that it was all about his people and how they'd been unfaithful to God, how they'd take wool and flax, bread and water, and even raisin cakes, down to the idols. How they forgot who is the Creator of the Universe when it comes to our daily bread. How they danced and pranced before the idols and gave their silver and gold...just as if Baal and the other idols were God.
Well, people started to talk, and it got bad. They talked about my children, now orphans they called them, that they were no better off than the children of Israel, since they'd gone running after idols and forgetting their faith. My children were OK but the talk was awful. I left Hosea, taking the children with me; I couldn’t take the laughing and the jeering any more, but Hosea came after me again.
In our culture, there’s a punishment for leaving a husband, even if it’s going back into the temple to work; a woman could be put out in the desert with no cover, no food or water, just left to die. I had made it to the city again. That's where he found me. I was trying to make some money to look after the children - and he came looking for me again. He put out more money than I had seen at one time; fifteen silver shekels...and a bushel and a half of barley. That's the price of freeing one slave. I was bought back. It was like he was courting me all over again. There was tender talk, fresh dates and figs to eat, flowers and gifts. There was no talk of the past. He treated me as if I was going to be his new wife, and start all over again. I wasn't sure at first. Was this just more of the same? Was I going to be treated just like another example? Yes, and No, said Hosea.."You'd better explain" I said.
So he did explain. The tender love he was giving me was just like the tender love that God has for God's people....just so long as they don't go off worshiping idols. In some ways, because of my former work in the temple, and leaving Hosea to go back there - I was sort of symbolic of the people of Israel who were unfaithful to the covenant. That’s what he said it was, the covenant God made with the people. The tender love he had for me was something he just enjoyed doing. He wanted me back as his own faithful wife. Well...he kept on loving me, and this time I stayed. I settled in to the family and started learning about his people. His people became my people.
Jezreel kept his name, but the land became good again, so Jezreel’s name was about the goodness that God sows in our hearts even when we stray. Lo-ruhamah..the one called "unloved"...became known as "the loved one". She's a beautiful girl....just about to have a child of her own. As for Lo-ammi..."no people of mine"...his is the best! "You are my people" says God. And Lo-ammi says "You are my God". And all comes right for us; but we have to watch the people, says my Hosea. They do like to go off on their own ways so easily. It’s easier to run away from God than uphold our part of the covenant.
Some day, I told Hosea, some day there's going to be a great teacher in Israel - someone who embodies that covenant so well. Someone so great, that he'll teach them of the great tender love of our God. But he may have to die to prove it.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Saturday, July 20, 2013
“Martha and Mary” a sermon based on Luke 10:38-42 July 21, 2013 Humber United Church
As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at Jesus’ feet listening to what he said. Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
“Martha, Martha,” Jesus answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed - only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”
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“Jesus!!! Would you please tell MY SISTER to stop wasting time, and come out here and help with the preparations for dinner!?!”
We know from various versions of different Gospels that Jesus was friends with Mary, Martha and Lazarus. So when Jesus comes to visit them in Bethany Martha welcomes him into the house. Martha, we gather is an oldest child, and in this case the matriarch of the household. Jesus arrives. In this culture, good hospitality is paramount so Martha right away is into preparing a feast.
Mary, the younger of the two, sits enthralled, listening to Jesus’ words. Instead of taking the traditional woman’s role, which Martha has, she takes on the role of a student learning at the feet of a rabbi. So??? you say? Sitting at the feet of a rabbi, learning, was a role traditionally reserved for men. Even by allowing this, Jesus is making a statement about the role of women, and although I don’t think that itself is central to the story, it’s important.
It’s not that Martha is busy serving and providing hospitality - Jesus commends this kind of service to the neighbor many times, notably in the parable of the Good Samaritan that immediately precedes the story of Mary and Martha. Martha is pulled in many different directions, worried and distracted, focusing in on transient things. Martha would have understood today's pace of life, I think. She was the eldest daughter, the one who always took her role much too seriously. When Jesus arrived, she wanted to put on the best supper possible. Is that all it was, though?
“Jesus!!! Would you please tell my SISTER to come out here and help in the kitchen!!!”
In fact, Martha’s distraction and fussing breaks all the rules of hospitality. She tries to embarrass her sister. She asks Jesus to intervene in a family dispute. She accuses Jesus of caring more for Mary than for her.
Martha’s preoccupation with what she thinks *should* be happening causes a wedge between her sister and herself, and between Jesus and herself. Jesus simply points out to her that the most important part of hospitality is listening to the guest. More than once in my life, I’ve been invited to places where the hosts are so busy preparing that they have no time just to sit and talk, to get to know each other better. Yet most of us would say that when we go to a friend’s home for a meal we don’t go to see what their house looks like, or what they serve to eat - we go for the company.
Jesus’ words to Martha are not a rebuke, they are a calling back to the important things. “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.” What is the one thing?
One of the common interpretations of this story is that Martha and Mary are on two different spiritual paths - those of service and devotion. And it’s true, some people find their spiritual fulfillment by doing things. Some find their spiritual fulfillment spending time in meditation and prayer, reading and learning. I don’t think, though, that this is quite the right interpretation. We cannot derive from this passage that spiritual study is more important than service. I think Jesus’ words to Martha say that there’s a time for each, and we need to be mindful.
In a culture which promotes the relentless pursuit of productivity, we are tempted to measure ourselves by how well we meet the expectations of others, and others tend to judge us by how we meet their personal expectations. We fail to realise that if others have expectations, often those expectations are based in their own issues with the world, and that they need to address their own issues. We also forget that others around us might have totally different expectations. I suspect that’s what Jesus was saying to Martha - that she needed to put aside her expectations of what she thought Mary *should* be doing, simply because she herself was fussing about all kinds of small things which really were distracting her from what was important - human relationship.
“Jesus!!!! Would you please tell my sister to come out here and help ME????”
Yet Jesus doesn’t. Instead he says to Martha “Calm down, stop worrying about so many things.” He doesn't tell Martha that what she is doing is unimportant, he tells her not be so distracted by it that she, Mary, Lazarus and he won’t be able to enjoy each other’s company and learn *from* each other. He tells her that there are more important things than doing it the way she thinks it should be.
The 17th C monk, Brother Lawrence, wrote a book called “The Practice of the Presence of God”. Here is a quote:
"I turn my little omelette in the pan for the love of God. When it is finished, if I have nothing to do, I prostrate myself on the ground and worship my God, who gave me the grace to make it, after which I arise happier than a king. When I can do nothing else, it is enough to have picked up a straw from the floor for the love of God....Offer Him your heart from time to time, in the midst of your busyness, even every moment if you can. Do not always scrupulously confine yourself to certain rules or particular forms of devotion; but act with a general confidence in God with love and humility."
“Jesus!!!! Would you please tell my SISTER to stop hanging about and come help in the kitchen!!!”
When I was younger, my father often brought people home for meals unannounced. He worked on the theory that there would always be enough to go around somehow, and that the feeding of friends was more important than how the table was set or whether the food was of a specific quality. My mother was a Martha - she had to know well in advance that someone was coming, and be prepared with enough food. She spent hours planning menus. Most of the time she ended up in bed with a migraine after we’d had company for dinner. Surprise guests were not on her list of desirable things. I learned a lot from watching that, and so when I married a man who also would walk in the door with someone he’d invited for dinner, I just stuck out whatever we were having anyway, and maybe opened a can of soup to add to the meal.
I thought it might be fun to look up the meaning of these two names - and in fact, they offer some insight into the character of the women.
Martha, in Aramaic (the language of Jesus and the others) means Lady - perhaps the lady of the house; Martha in Hebrew means “bitter”.
Mary, in both Aramaic and Hebrew, means “longed-for child’, but also means “rebellious”.
I can hear behind Martha’s sharp words “Our parents wanted you more than me, but they aren’t here any more, and I’m the head of this household, and I’m tired of you skipping out on responsibiity. ” Martha, the lady of the house, mired in responsibility for the siblings, and so distracted by all these other things. Mary, the younger, maybe a little bit spoiled when her parents were alive, and now rebelling and establishing her independence.
Martha wanted to be the perfect hostess, the perfect cook, have the perfect table and impeccable hospitality, and she saw her sister just sitting there listening to Jesus talk. Martha would have *liked* to be able to sit and do the same thing, but her perfectionism about the things which were *supposed* to be done would not let her relax, take the pots off the heat, and sit down with Jesus and the others.
I think this is the point of the story. Like Martha, we too often attend church for the wrong reasons. We get all preoccupied with doing things the way we think is the right way, and yet in this story Jesus says that what matters is that faith and following should be our focus. God should be our focus, even if the hymns aren’t the ones we personally like, or the sermon isn’t something we want to hear, or the prayers are the same every Sunday in the summer. If God is our focus, then we can find God in all of those things.
How many times do we act like things have to be a certain way in the service, to be meaningful to us - and forget about the needs of all the others around us - as if there’s only our way? When we fuss about the music, or the prayers, or something - are we really focussing on God? Or are we allowing ourselves to be distracted by our own wants - making the issue about us, instead of about God. I say wants on purpose, because that one thing we need from worship is to put aside the distractions of what we personally like, and focus on learning and listening to God, however that word comes to us. Focus on God; is God is glorified in our worship? The question we should ask is not “Is it pleasing to me? Is this how I think worship should be?", but rather “Am I focussing on God? Is this pleasing to God?” May it be so.
Sources:
1. Commentary - Elisabeth Johnson, Pastor. Lutheran Institute of Theology Meiganga, Cameroon
2. “Focus on Christ” a sermon based on Luke 10:38-42 by Rev. Frank Schaefer
3. “Mary and Martha” a sermon based on Luke 10:38-42 by Rev. Heather McCance
4. "The Practice of the Presence of God", Brother Lawrence (Nicholas Herman 1605-1691) 17c Carmelite Monk. Compiled by Father Joseph de Beaufort. Spire Books, Copyright 1958, 1967 by Flemming Revell.
Baker Publishing, Grand Rapids, MI.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
“Go and Do Likewise” a sermon based on Luke 10:25-37 Humber United Church
On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“What is written in the Law?” Jesus replied. “How do you read it?” The man answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”
“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”
The legal expert wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. A Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’
“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” Jesus asked. The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”
Jesus said, “Go and do likewise.”
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The preacher had chosen an appropriate text this morning, the lawmaker thought. Fruits and vegetables growing on farms across the state were rotting in the fields rather than being picked.
“The harvest is plentiful, but the farmworkers are few; therefore, ask the Lord of the harvest to send out farmworkers into his harvest.”
The lawmaker began to get worried. This was his favorite teacher. He had been looking forward to his twice-yearly message at this Baptist church. Usually the congregation was stirred to renew its faith - the lawmaker included - would find their souls warmed just hearing his voice.
This message struck a bit too close to the bone. The lawmaker wondered if this sermon was meant as a direct criticism of his most recent accomplishment, a work he had authored and pushed. Everyone in that huge sanctuary was wondering the same thing, wondering if that congratulating they had offered was now being called into question.
Finally, the lawmaker could not stand it any longer and interrupted the sermon, hoping to get the preacher back on more comfortable ground, more faithful ground really than this bleeding-heart mess about empty fields and lost workers.
“Teacher, excuse me for interrupting, but this isn’t the kind of message I’m accustomed to hearing. I have my doubts whether it’s really biblical. So - the basics. What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“Ah yes. Good morning, senator, you’ve been busy lately.” the preacher replied. “You are a learned man, so why don’t you tell us. What is written in the Bible?.”
The senator answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.
“Exactly,” the preacher said. “Do this and you will live.”
But wanting to justify himself, the lawmaker pressed the preacher for clarification, “And just who exactly is my neighbor?”
The preacher smiled broadly. “I’m so glad you asked. I’d like to use a story to answer your question.
“There was once an important lawmaker, going down to Montgomery from Gardendale to argue for an important bill he had sponsored because a vote on it was imminent. On his way, he fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. By chance, another lawmaker was going to Montgomery the same way. When he saw the beaten man, he cringed at his condition, and kept going so as not to be late for the vote. He didn’t even recognize his colleague who wrote the bill now up for vote. Next, a pastor came by. He, too, was traveling to Montgomery, where he was honored to be offering an invocation to bless the senators’ deliberations and decisions. The pastor approached the wounded man, offered condolences and promised to pray for him. His thoughts had turned so heavenward that the pastor failed to see that the wounded man was an important senator who had authored the bill up for debate.
Then a Mexican man, filthy from a day picking in the fields, approached. When he saw the beaten man, he was moved with pity. He went and bandaged the man’s wounds, carried him to his old Ford pick-up and took him to a hospital. “Take care of him,” the farmworker told a nurse, handing her his information. “This is where you can find me if he needs anything at all. When I come back, I will repay you whatever more his care costs.”
“You are coming back to pay his medical bills? Don’t you know who this man is?” the nurse replied.
“I know him,” the farmworker said. “Of course, I know him.”
The teacher turned to the lawmaker and asked him, “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?”
The senator replied with confidence, “The one who showed him mercy.”
“Exactly so,” the preacher said. The senator sat down, satisfied. “But my story is not over,” the preacher continued turning to the congregation.
“While the senator was recuperating, his bill passed and was signed into law. After several weeks, the migrant farmworker returned to the hospital with his entire savings - money he had put away to bring his family - wife and three children - to America. He used every last penny to pay the senator’s medical bills. When his receipt had been printed, the farmworker turned to walk out of the hospital.
“As he left the building, two police officers were waiting for him. Under the authority of a new law, he was questioned and detained, for being in the country illegally. From the window of his hospital room, the senator watched, satisfied that he had made justice happen. Within a few weeks, the farmworker was deported to Mexico, penniless.”
“So, we see,” the teacher concluded, “that indeed the harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few.”
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The story of the Good Samaritan has become a theological cliche. It is so well know that the notion of a “Good Samaritan” has a cultural cachet even outside of its origins. Yet the story is no less powerful, no less needed today, for behind its simplicity we find a lifetime of wisdom and a shocking upturning of our values. The story of an unlikely helper still rings true.
We usually hear this story as a teaching to help any stranger in need - and of course, part of that is true. Our ability to ignore others is stunning, hence the Good Samaritan remains an anomaly. There’s no question that part of our call is to help.
It’s important, though, to go further and take a look at *why* Jesus tells this story. A legalist theological opponent is trying to show Jesus and the disciples the errors of their ways.
“How do I achieve eternal life?” he asks. Jesus turns the tables, and says “You’re a learned man. You tell us.”
The lawyer asks, “Who is my neighbor?” Who counts, for whom am I responsible, who falls into God’s command to care for neighbor. I suspect that rather than assume the lawyer is out to “get” Jesus he is rather, as Luke says, “justifying himself” in the sense that he wants to know precisely what is required for the sake of justice in light of God’s commandment. And, as we’ve already seen, Jesus responds by telling a story that redefines neighbor not in terms of race, religion, or sexuaity, but vulnerability; that is, whoever is in need is your neighbor.
Jesus answers with a story which has a shocking conclusion. The one who helps the man is supposed to be his enemy, the one he has sought to put down and push out, not touching those determined to be “unclean” in body or soul, righteously protecting his own country for the pure Jews.
In recent weeks, a number of controversial and divisive political questions have dominated the news all over the world. Race and voting rights, ethical government, access to safe abortions in Texas, rail companies claiming themselves not responsible for a devastating accident, marriage equality at the Supreme Court, and a renewal of discussion all over the map, of who has rights and who doesn’t, who should and who shouldn’t, mostly based on our prejudices and legalistic readings of both secular and theological positions.
The story also invites us into the narrative in a different way. Imagine yourself as the person beside the road, on the brink of death; a woman in deepest grief, a youth lost in a bewildering culture. Imagine yourself deep in despair, feeling helpless and hopeless. Now imagine that the one who stops to help is the one you dismiss as a bigot or a Wiccan pagan, a racist, a misogynist or a baby-killer, an illegal immigrant or someone you criticise for being on welfare. This story asks us to look at the world through God’s eyes.
This was never meant to be a mushy morality tale. It was and is meant to be a radical and subversive story that we have whitewashed into a fantasy of the privileged, in which we believe Jesus calls us to apply a few bandages, throw some money at the injustice in the world, and consider our job as being done. .
Jesus is NOT asking us to be charitable like the Samaritan. His point is much more subtle. Of course, we are to bind the wounds of the wounded. Of course, we are to take care of the oppressed and the downtrodden. We all know this to be what God asks of us. Works of charity and mercy are a given in the life of faith. Even the lawyer in the story knows this without a second thought.
When Jesus tells the lawyer to go and do likewise, he says to go and understand the one seen as a cultural enemy. He says to this educated but singularly myopic man to see that the people he despises most are the people who hold the key to eternal life.
“Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” the lawyer asks. “See your enemy as your teacher,” Jesus answers .
Who are the Samaritans in our lives who are those who are seen as “Other”, from whom we can learn? Jesus says we need to learn from the “other”, to see them as *our* teachers. Imagine the impact on this lawyer to have to admit that a person to whom he referred in everyday speech as a “dog” was the answer both to Jesus’ question and to his own question about his own salvation. Yet he cannot even bring himself to say the word “Samaritan, but rather says “the one who showed mercy.”
Now, we all have the “Other” somewhere in our lives. We have slurs based on race, sexuality, class, political preference. We are all guilty of using them. The parable of the Samaritan calls us to confess these cultural enemies - illegal immigrant, gay, poor, Conservative, NDP, Liberal - and then learn from them.
The problem is, if we are willing to learn from these ‘enemies’, if we take the time to listen to them, we can no longer blame them for all that is wrong with today’s culture. Then what happens to the woundedness of the world?
God calls us to more. God created all people in one image - that of God’s self. We claim that Jesus died for all people. Both God’s acts of creation and redemption signal that the heart of our faith is the belief that all people have inherent worth and dignity. All people. Period. No exceptions.
So perhaps in this text we are invited to think about what kind of community we want to be going into the future. Do we want to be only a community that has been formed and nurtured by a shared history and cultural theology, and stop there? Or might we see ourselves as those who are in fact the traveler left in a ditch by the road. Can we now arise to address others in need, but from the position of the one who has been wounded, and been redeemed by the ones we see as “Other”? By God’s grace I believe we can. I believe that in that change, we can also see a new and fuller future in God’s new creation. Thanks be to God.
Sources:
1. Adapted from “The Immigrant Samaritan by David Henson Part 1 of a 3-part series. February 2012
2. Good Samaritans All Around by Eric D. Barreto
3. www.workingpreacher.com Rev. David Lose, Luther Seminary, Minnesota.
“What is written in the Law?” Jesus replied. “How do you read it?” The man answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”
“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”
The legal expert wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. A Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’
“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” Jesus asked. The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”
Jesus said, “Go and do likewise.”
************************************************************************
The preacher had chosen an appropriate text this morning, the lawmaker thought. Fruits and vegetables growing on farms across the state were rotting in the fields rather than being picked.
“The harvest is plentiful, but the farmworkers are few; therefore, ask the Lord of the harvest to send out farmworkers into his harvest.”
The lawmaker began to get worried. This was his favorite teacher. He had been looking forward to his twice-yearly message at this Baptist church. Usually the congregation was stirred to renew its faith - the lawmaker included - would find their souls warmed just hearing his voice.
This message struck a bit too close to the bone. The lawmaker wondered if this sermon was meant as a direct criticism of his most recent accomplishment, a work he had authored and pushed. Everyone in that huge sanctuary was wondering the same thing, wondering if that congratulating they had offered was now being called into question.
Finally, the lawmaker could not stand it any longer and interrupted the sermon, hoping to get the preacher back on more comfortable ground, more faithful ground really than this bleeding-heart mess about empty fields and lost workers.
“Teacher, excuse me for interrupting, but this isn’t the kind of message I’m accustomed to hearing. I have my doubts whether it’s really biblical. So - the basics. What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“Ah yes. Good morning, senator, you’ve been busy lately.” the preacher replied. “You are a learned man, so why don’t you tell us. What is written in the Bible?.”
The senator answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.
“Exactly,” the preacher said. “Do this and you will live.”
But wanting to justify himself, the lawmaker pressed the preacher for clarification, “And just who exactly is my neighbor?”
The preacher smiled broadly. “I’m so glad you asked. I’d like to use a story to answer your question.
“There was once an important lawmaker, going down to Montgomery from Gardendale to argue for an important bill he had sponsored because a vote on it was imminent. On his way, he fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. By chance, another lawmaker was going to Montgomery the same way. When he saw the beaten man, he cringed at his condition, and kept going so as not to be late for the vote. He didn’t even recognize his colleague who wrote the bill now up for vote. Next, a pastor came by. He, too, was traveling to Montgomery, where he was honored to be offering an invocation to bless the senators’ deliberations and decisions. The pastor approached the wounded man, offered condolences and promised to pray for him. His thoughts had turned so heavenward that the pastor failed to see that the wounded man was an important senator who had authored the bill up for debate.
Then a Mexican man, filthy from a day picking in the fields, approached. When he saw the beaten man, he was moved with pity. He went and bandaged the man’s wounds, carried him to his old Ford pick-up and took him to a hospital. “Take care of him,” the farmworker told a nurse, handing her his information. “This is where you can find me if he needs anything at all. When I come back, I will repay you whatever more his care costs.”
“You are coming back to pay his medical bills? Don’t you know who this man is?” the nurse replied.
“I know him,” the farmworker said. “Of course, I know him.”
The teacher turned to the lawmaker and asked him, “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?”
The senator replied with confidence, “The one who showed him mercy.”
“Exactly so,” the preacher said. The senator sat down, satisfied. “But my story is not over,” the preacher continued turning to the congregation.
“While the senator was recuperating, his bill passed and was signed into law. After several weeks, the migrant farmworker returned to the hospital with his entire savings - money he had put away to bring his family - wife and three children - to America. He used every last penny to pay the senator’s medical bills. When his receipt had been printed, the farmworker turned to walk out of the hospital.
“As he left the building, two police officers were waiting for him. Under the authority of a new law, he was questioned and detained, for being in the country illegally. From the window of his hospital room, the senator watched, satisfied that he had made justice happen. Within a few weeks, the farmworker was deported to Mexico, penniless.”
“So, we see,” the teacher concluded, “that indeed the harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few.”
***********************************************************************
The story of the Good Samaritan has become a theological cliche. It is so well know that the notion of a “Good Samaritan” has a cultural cachet even outside of its origins. Yet the story is no less powerful, no less needed today, for behind its simplicity we find a lifetime of wisdom and a shocking upturning of our values. The story of an unlikely helper still rings true.
We usually hear this story as a teaching to help any stranger in need - and of course, part of that is true. Our ability to ignore others is stunning, hence the Good Samaritan remains an anomaly. There’s no question that part of our call is to help.
It’s important, though, to go further and take a look at *why* Jesus tells this story. A legalist theological opponent is trying to show Jesus and the disciples the errors of their ways.
“How do I achieve eternal life?” he asks. Jesus turns the tables, and says “You’re a learned man. You tell us.”
The lawyer asks, “Who is my neighbor?” Who counts, for whom am I responsible, who falls into God’s command to care for neighbor. I suspect that rather than assume the lawyer is out to “get” Jesus he is rather, as Luke says, “justifying himself” in the sense that he wants to know precisely what is required for the sake of justice in light of God’s commandment. And, as we’ve already seen, Jesus responds by telling a story that redefines neighbor not in terms of race, religion, or sexuaity, but vulnerability; that is, whoever is in need is your neighbor.
Jesus answers with a story which has a shocking conclusion. The one who helps the man is supposed to be his enemy, the one he has sought to put down and push out, not touching those determined to be “unclean” in body or soul, righteously protecting his own country for the pure Jews.
In recent weeks, a number of controversial and divisive political questions have dominated the news all over the world. Race and voting rights, ethical government, access to safe abortions in Texas, rail companies claiming themselves not responsible for a devastating accident, marriage equality at the Supreme Court, and a renewal of discussion all over the map, of who has rights and who doesn’t, who should and who shouldn’t, mostly based on our prejudices and legalistic readings of both secular and theological positions.
The story also invites us into the narrative in a different way. Imagine yourself as the person beside the road, on the brink of death; a woman in deepest grief, a youth lost in a bewildering culture. Imagine yourself deep in despair, feeling helpless and hopeless. Now imagine that the one who stops to help is the one you dismiss as a bigot or a Wiccan pagan, a racist, a misogynist or a baby-killer, an illegal immigrant or someone you criticise for being on welfare. This story asks us to look at the world through God’s eyes.
This was never meant to be a mushy morality tale. It was and is meant to be a radical and subversive story that we have whitewashed into a fantasy of the privileged, in which we believe Jesus calls us to apply a few bandages, throw some money at the injustice in the world, and consider our job as being done. .
Jesus is NOT asking us to be charitable like the Samaritan. His point is much more subtle. Of course, we are to bind the wounds of the wounded. Of course, we are to take care of the oppressed and the downtrodden. We all know this to be what God asks of us. Works of charity and mercy are a given in the life of faith. Even the lawyer in the story knows this without a second thought.
When Jesus tells the lawyer to go and do likewise, he says to go and understand the one seen as a cultural enemy. He says to this educated but singularly myopic man to see that the people he despises most are the people who hold the key to eternal life.
“Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” the lawyer asks. “See your enemy as your teacher,” Jesus answers .
Who are the Samaritans in our lives who are those who are seen as “Other”, from whom we can learn? Jesus says we need to learn from the “other”, to see them as *our* teachers. Imagine the impact on this lawyer to have to admit that a person to whom he referred in everyday speech as a “dog” was the answer both to Jesus’ question and to his own question about his own salvation. Yet he cannot even bring himself to say the word “Samaritan, but rather says “the one who showed mercy.”
Now, we all have the “Other” somewhere in our lives. We have slurs based on race, sexuality, class, political preference. We are all guilty of using them. The parable of the Samaritan calls us to confess these cultural enemies - illegal immigrant, gay, poor, Conservative, NDP, Liberal - and then learn from them.
The problem is, if we are willing to learn from these ‘enemies’, if we take the time to listen to them, we can no longer blame them for all that is wrong with today’s culture. Then what happens to the woundedness of the world?
God calls us to more. God created all people in one image - that of God’s self. We claim that Jesus died for all people. Both God’s acts of creation and redemption signal that the heart of our faith is the belief that all people have inherent worth and dignity. All people. Period. No exceptions.
So perhaps in this text we are invited to think about what kind of community we want to be going into the future. Do we want to be only a community that has been formed and nurtured by a shared history and cultural theology, and stop there? Or might we see ourselves as those who are in fact the traveler left in a ditch by the road. Can we now arise to address others in need, but from the position of the one who has been wounded, and been redeemed by the ones we see as “Other”? By God’s grace I believe we can. I believe that in that change, we can also see a new and fuller future in God’s new creation. Thanks be to God.
Sources:
1. Adapted from “The Immigrant Samaritan by David Henson Part 1 of a 3-part series. February 2012
2. Good Samaritans All Around by Eric D. Barreto
3. www.workingpreacher.com Rev. David Lose, Luther Seminary, Minnesota.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Update
To followers and readers:
As of the 18th of August, there will no longer be posts to "Sermons at Humber". It's hard to believe but my time here is coming to an end. From August 20th to September 1, I will be travelling - and as of September 30th will be moving back to Toronto. Rather than writing full sermons, I hope to be having some conversations with the congregation about ministry in the 21st century, and what they might hope for a future. So for the rest of July and half of August, this blog will still be up - and as soon as a new one is created in whatever new place emerges, you'll be informed. Thanks for reading. Blessings - Fran
As of the 18th of August, there will no longer be posts to "Sermons at Humber". It's hard to believe but my time here is coming to an end. From August 20th to September 1, I will be travelling - and as of September 30th will be moving back to Toronto. Rather than writing full sermons, I hope to be having some conversations with the congregation about ministry in the 21st century, and what they might hope for a future. So for the rest of July and half of August, this blog will still be up - and as soon as a new one is created in whatever new place emerges, you'll be informed. Thanks for reading. Blessings - Fran
“Healing Naaman” a sermon based on 2 Kings 5:1-14 July 7, 2013, Humber United Church, Corner Brook NL
Naaman was commander of the army of the king of Aram. He was a great man and highly regarded by his master, because through him God had given victory to Aram. He was a valiant soldier, but he had leprosy.
Bands of raiders from Aram had taken a young girl from Israel captive, and she served Naaman’s wife. She said to her mistress, “If only my master would see the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.”
Naaman told his master what the girl from Israel had said. “By all means, go,” the king replied. “I will send a letter to the king of Israel.” So Naaman left, taking with him ten talents or 350 of silver, six thousand shekels (69 k) of gold and ten sets of clothing. The letter read: “With this letter I am sending my servant Naaman to you so that you may cure him of his leprosy.”
As soon as the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his robes and said, “Am I God? Can I kill and bring back to life? Why does this fellow send someone to me to be cured of his leprosy? See how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me!”
When Elisha heard that the king of Israel had torn his robes, he sent this message: “Why have you torn your robes? Have the man come to me; he will know that there is a prophet in Israel.” Naaman went with his entourage to Elisha’s house. Elisha sent out a messenger who said, “Go, wash yourself seven times in the Jordan; your flesh will be restored and you will be cleansed.”
Naaman went away angry and said, “I thought he would surely come out to me, call on the name of the Lord his God, wave his hand over the spot and cure me of my leprosy. Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Couldn’t I wash in them and be cleansed?” So he turned and went off in a rage.
Naaman’s servants went to him and said, “My father, if the prophet had told you to do some great thing, would you not have done it? How much more, then, when he tells you, ‘Wash and be cleansed’!” So he went down and dipped himself in the Jordan seven times, as the man of God had told him, and his flesh was restored, as that of a young boy..
**************************************************************************
This morning, we catch up with Elisha as he takes up the mantle laid upon him by Elijah. Unlike most prophets in biblical stories, Elijah and Elisha often served as escorts and advisors to those hoping to move from sickness and death to life and health. These are a kind of “boundary crossing”, and between the two of these prophets, there are five such “crossings”. Today’s story demonstrates that kind of crossing of a boundary - one from sickness and death to one of health and healing.
We meet Naaman, the military commander of the Aramean army. Naaman is a very rich and powerful man who has received the favor of the King of Aram in Syria, because of his victory over Israel. Yet although Naaman is portrayed to be a great man, something is clearly wrong, and his problem is introduced with that little word “but.”
Well, we all have this word in our lives, don’t we? None of us is perfect, not one of us has it all together. In Naaman’s case, in spite of everything he was reputed to be, there was a “but” which was actually defining this man’s life.
For Naaman was a leper.
Now, we know enough about leprosy in this day and age to know that he might have just had really bad acne. Naaman’s leprosy was probably not the most serious form; yet in Naaman’s time any skin disease carried with it a certain social stigma. If his condition were publicly known, he would become an outcast, to be avoided, a person who would be devoid of all human touch. The once-mighty Naaman would now be treated as an object of disgust.
Living in his household, was a slave girl who had been captured in Israel, and she was a servant to Naaman’s wife. Instead of being bitter and thinking, “Let him die; he’s getting exactly what he deserves,” this servant girl informed her mistress that there was a prophet in Samaria who could cure Naaman of his leprosy.
Suddenly in this story, like many other biblical stories, a minor character takes on a major role. Oh, I am sure she never even though her unselfish faith in God would change Naaman’s life, I don’t think she was even conscious of using her faith. I think it is also a measure of how desperate Naaman had become; he had likely tried everything he could to cure his affliction. Yet here we find him willing to take the advice of a servant, a foreigner, a woman, a slave, the spoils of war. He is vulnerable, a powerful man finding help from someone he considers powerless - crossing a boundary he would previously have shunned.
Suddenly Naaman has to negotiate the difficult path between illness and death, to healing and life. He has a kind of referral from his king, to the King of Israel - but the message gets garbled and the piece about the prophet somehow gets lost, and he has to sit around waiting until he finally gets sent to the right place. And the king of Israel is in a major panic, because he has no idea how to heal this man’s illness. He’s had to cross another boundary - into a foreign country, and trust in a foreign king.
So, Naaman has permission to go to Samaria, to Elisha’s house with his entourage and his pounds of money. Now, money can do a lot, but it can never purchase for a person the healing of their soul nor peace of mind. Naaman had to travel all the way from Syria to Samaria, to Elisha the Hebrew prophet, in order to find his cure. Whatever gods he believed in - money, fame, prestige - could not heal him, could not take him from illness and death to healing and life.
So, beyond the borders of his home, away from everything familiar to him, hiding his condition as best he still can, he arrives at Elisha’s presumably small and humble home in grand style, with his chariots, horses, and a full entourage, and I bet he is looking at this little mud and straw hut, and wondering what the heck Elisha could do for him.
To add insult to injury, Elisha doesn’t even come out of the house, but rather sends a servant with a message, ‘Go, wash yourself seven times in the Jordan, and your flesh will be restored and you will be cleansed.”
Naaman is humiliated and angry - downright livid! He was a big shot in Aram. He expected a welcoming committee when he arrived at Elisha’s remote home. He wanted the red carpet treatment and instant healing by the wave of prophet Elisha’s hand. He says “ I thought that *for me* he would certainly come out, and call on the name of the Lord *his* God, and wave his hand over the spot and cure the leprosy. Are not theAbana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?”
Naaman in a rage. “Unbelievable!” he fumes. There were far cleaner and better rivers back home. Had he come all this way, and with tons of money and riches, his entourage and servants, to be told to go and wash in a dirty river? So he rides away from Elisha’s home, feeling cheated altogether. Elisha did not treat him the way he thought he should be treated.
At the urging of his own servants, he finally consents to enter the Jordan River. He’s not confident, but decides to do it because he really has nothing to lose. Once a day, every day for seven days, he goes down to the water, immerses himself, and comes back out again. Finally, on the seventh day, he emerges and finds that the leprosy is gone. He realises that something else is gone too - something has changed dramatically.
How does this apply to us today? Naaman has been used to being in control, he’s proud of his accomplishments and his position - and is now up against something he cannot control, cannot manage, cannot buy regardless of the tons of gold and shekels he has brought with his entourage. In order to be healed, he has to cross boundaries into a foreign land, and humble himself before Elisha - and Elisha the Prophet is the one who represents God.
I think there are two pieces here. One is being cured, the other is being healed. Naaman was sick physically, but he was also sick spiritually. To be cured is to have the illness removed. To be healed is something else again. Naaman was cured of his physical leprosy, and he was also healed of his spiritual leprosy. After months of ups and downs, trying everything, he has emerged on the other side of Jordan a new person - in both body and soul.
He has, in this journey from illness and death to healing and wholeness, discovered on his way home, that he isn’t returning to “normal”, he isn’t going back to the way things were before. Everything is different. He has spent time in the land of illness and possibly death - and has emerged cured and healed, into a land with a new horizon. Naaman’s new horizon is one where vulnerability and trust come together, to create new life.
It is the journey of the church - to set aside all the so-called cures for what we think ails us; to admit that we are vulnerable, recognise that we cannot fix all the things think are wrong, and offer ourselves to God from that place of trust and vulnerability, recognising a new horizon created by God. May it be so.
Sources
1. “Conjunction Junction” 2 Kings 5:1-16 Rev. Ken Sauer, East Ridge United Methodist Church, Chattanooga, TN
2. www.workingpreacher.org Commentary by Karla Suomala, Associate Professor of Religion, Luther College, Decorah Iowa.
3. Cured or Healed? Sermon by Rev. Fran Ota, then at Glen Ayr United Church, Scarborough, ON.
Bands of raiders from Aram had taken a young girl from Israel captive, and she served Naaman’s wife. She said to her mistress, “If only my master would see the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.”
Naaman told his master what the girl from Israel had said. “By all means, go,” the king replied. “I will send a letter to the king of Israel.” So Naaman left, taking with him ten talents or 350 of silver, six thousand shekels (69 k) of gold and ten sets of clothing. The letter read: “With this letter I am sending my servant Naaman to you so that you may cure him of his leprosy.”
As soon as the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his robes and said, “Am I God? Can I kill and bring back to life? Why does this fellow send someone to me to be cured of his leprosy? See how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me!”
When Elisha heard that the king of Israel had torn his robes, he sent this message: “Why have you torn your robes? Have the man come to me; he will know that there is a prophet in Israel.” Naaman went with his entourage to Elisha’s house. Elisha sent out a messenger who said, “Go, wash yourself seven times in the Jordan; your flesh will be restored and you will be cleansed.”
Naaman went away angry and said, “I thought he would surely come out to me, call on the name of the Lord his God, wave his hand over the spot and cure me of my leprosy. Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Couldn’t I wash in them and be cleansed?” So he turned and went off in a rage.
Naaman’s servants went to him and said, “My father, if the prophet had told you to do some great thing, would you not have done it? How much more, then, when he tells you, ‘Wash and be cleansed’!” So he went down and dipped himself in the Jordan seven times, as the man of God had told him, and his flesh was restored, as that of a young boy..
**************************************************************************
This morning, we catch up with Elisha as he takes up the mantle laid upon him by Elijah. Unlike most prophets in biblical stories, Elijah and Elisha often served as escorts and advisors to those hoping to move from sickness and death to life and health. These are a kind of “boundary crossing”, and between the two of these prophets, there are five such “crossings”. Today’s story demonstrates that kind of crossing of a boundary - one from sickness and death to one of health and healing.
We meet Naaman, the military commander of the Aramean army. Naaman is a very rich and powerful man who has received the favor of the King of Aram in Syria, because of his victory over Israel. Yet although Naaman is portrayed to be a great man, something is clearly wrong, and his problem is introduced with that little word “but.”
Well, we all have this word in our lives, don’t we? None of us is perfect, not one of us has it all together. In Naaman’s case, in spite of everything he was reputed to be, there was a “but” which was actually defining this man’s life.
For Naaman was a leper.
Now, we know enough about leprosy in this day and age to know that he might have just had really bad acne. Naaman’s leprosy was probably not the most serious form; yet in Naaman’s time any skin disease carried with it a certain social stigma. If his condition were publicly known, he would become an outcast, to be avoided, a person who would be devoid of all human touch. The once-mighty Naaman would now be treated as an object of disgust.
Living in his household, was a slave girl who had been captured in Israel, and she was a servant to Naaman’s wife. Instead of being bitter and thinking, “Let him die; he’s getting exactly what he deserves,” this servant girl informed her mistress that there was a prophet in Samaria who could cure Naaman of his leprosy.
Suddenly in this story, like many other biblical stories, a minor character takes on a major role. Oh, I am sure she never even though her unselfish faith in God would change Naaman’s life, I don’t think she was even conscious of using her faith. I think it is also a measure of how desperate Naaman had become; he had likely tried everything he could to cure his affliction. Yet here we find him willing to take the advice of a servant, a foreigner, a woman, a slave, the spoils of war. He is vulnerable, a powerful man finding help from someone he considers powerless - crossing a boundary he would previously have shunned.
Suddenly Naaman has to negotiate the difficult path between illness and death, to healing and life. He has a kind of referral from his king, to the King of Israel - but the message gets garbled and the piece about the prophet somehow gets lost, and he has to sit around waiting until he finally gets sent to the right place. And the king of Israel is in a major panic, because he has no idea how to heal this man’s illness. He’s had to cross another boundary - into a foreign country, and trust in a foreign king.
So, Naaman has permission to go to Samaria, to Elisha’s house with his entourage and his pounds of money. Now, money can do a lot, but it can never purchase for a person the healing of their soul nor peace of mind. Naaman had to travel all the way from Syria to Samaria, to Elisha the Hebrew prophet, in order to find his cure. Whatever gods he believed in - money, fame, prestige - could not heal him, could not take him from illness and death to healing and life.
So, beyond the borders of his home, away from everything familiar to him, hiding his condition as best he still can, he arrives at Elisha’s presumably small and humble home in grand style, with his chariots, horses, and a full entourage, and I bet he is looking at this little mud and straw hut, and wondering what the heck Elisha could do for him.
To add insult to injury, Elisha doesn’t even come out of the house, but rather sends a servant with a message, ‘Go, wash yourself seven times in the Jordan, and your flesh will be restored and you will be cleansed.”
Naaman is humiliated and angry - downright livid! He was a big shot in Aram. He expected a welcoming committee when he arrived at Elisha’s remote home. He wanted the red carpet treatment and instant healing by the wave of prophet Elisha’s hand. He says “ I thought that *for me* he would certainly come out, and call on the name of the Lord *his* God, and wave his hand over the spot and cure the leprosy. Are not theAbana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?”
Naaman in a rage. “Unbelievable!” he fumes. There were far cleaner and better rivers back home. Had he come all this way, and with tons of money and riches, his entourage and servants, to be told to go and wash in a dirty river? So he rides away from Elisha’s home, feeling cheated altogether. Elisha did not treat him the way he thought he should be treated.
At the urging of his own servants, he finally consents to enter the Jordan River. He’s not confident, but decides to do it because he really has nothing to lose. Once a day, every day for seven days, he goes down to the water, immerses himself, and comes back out again. Finally, on the seventh day, he emerges and finds that the leprosy is gone. He realises that something else is gone too - something has changed dramatically.
How does this apply to us today? Naaman has been used to being in control, he’s proud of his accomplishments and his position - and is now up against something he cannot control, cannot manage, cannot buy regardless of the tons of gold and shekels he has brought with his entourage. In order to be healed, he has to cross boundaries into a foreign land, and humble himself before Elisha - and Elisha the Prophet is the one who represents God.
I think there are two pieces here. One is being cured, the other is being healed. Naaman was sick physically, but he was also sick spiritually. To be cured is to have the illness removed. To be healed is something else again. Naaman was cured of his physical leprosy, and he was also healed of his spiritual leprosy. After months of ups and downs, trying everything, he has emerged on the other side of Jordan a new person - in both body and soul.
He has, in this journey from illness and death to healing and wholeness, discovered on his way home, that he isn’t returning to “normal”, he isn’t going back to the way things were before. Everything is different. He has spent time in the land of illness and possibly death - and has emerged cured and healed, into a land with a new horizon. Naaman’s new horizon is one where vulnerability and trust come together, to create new life.
It is the journey of the church - to set aside all the so-called cures for what we think ails us; to admit that we are vulnerable, recognise that we cannot fix all the things think are wrong, and offer ourselves to God from that place of trust and vulnerability, recognising a new horizon created by God. May it be so.
Sources
1. “Conjunction Junction” 2 Kings 5:1-16 Rev. Ken Sauer, East Ridge United Methodist Church, Chattanooga, TN
2. www.workingpreacher.org Commentary by Karla Suomala, Associate Professor of Religion, Luther College, Decorah Iowa.
3. Cured or Healed? Sermon by Rev. Fran Ota, then at Glen Ayr United Church, Scarborough, ON.
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