HEALING THAT CURES THE SOUL

(Preached on Sunday, February 15, 2009)

One day she said to her mistress, AOh, if only my master could meet the prophet of Samaria, he would be healed of his skin disease.@                       -2 Kings 5:3

 

At the close of World War II, a German officer returned to his home city of Dresden, to find it utterly devastated by the Allied bombing.  It was not a military target, but was bombed as an act of retaliation for the German bombing of London.  He found his street, but where his house had been there was only a pile of rubble.  He learned that his mother and sister had been in the house when it collapsed and remained buried under tons of stone.  In utter despair, and with anger filling his heart, he wandered the streets.  As a Christian he had done his best, often in the most difficult circumstances, to help people in that terrible wartime.  Now, he felt nothing but hatred for those who had taken from him those he loved.

 

At last he arrived at the church he had attended with his mother.  The church lay in ruins, but he could make his way to the pew where they customarily sat.  As he looked around, his glance fell upon the altar, now covered with dust.  The gold was gone, but the inscription was still clear: ABe you reconciled to God in spite of all.@  The message was also clear to him.  He could not be reconciled to God without banishing the hatred that had filled him.  He decided at that moment that his life must be spent in the ministry of reconciliation and understanding, as a disciple of the one who taught his followers to pray: AForgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.@

 

The journey toward healing is not an easy one.  The first step is recognizing what is holding you back and naming it.  The second step, often a long and arduous one, is letting go.  We are called to let go of our hurts, as well as our sins.  In order to let go, we have to look into the closets of our pain and sort through them.  Once we see what is holding us back, we need to let go of it.  We can offer it to God, who is powerful enough to bear it for us.  Letting go frees us to move ahead, to grasp something new, to allow God to heal and transform our pain into something beautiful.  This doesn=t always mean that our circumstances change, but that our hearts become soft and open to love and grace.  Remember, God cannot place forgiveness and mercy into hands that are already full.

 

This is the healing that cures the soul.  But it is usually not a dramatic experience that comes to us through a prophet waving his hand over us or invoking some magical words that bring about a miraculous  cure.  God=s way of healing is usually through far muddier, messier means.  And it requires the work of acceptance and obedience on our part.

 

This is what the great General Naaman learned.  Naaman was a man of valor, of substance.  He was a great warrior, highly respected and decorated in his home country.  He had won great battles and was a favorite of his King, able to secure an audience at a moment=s notice.  But C there is always a Abut@ C he had leprosy. While we cannot know his precise, modern medical diagnosis, we can certainly infer from his actions that it was a serious, perhaps life-threatening, affliction.  At the very least it must have caused him great social pain, possibly leading the troops he directed to wonder whether he was weak or not.  After all, he acts immediately on the suggestion of this slip of a foreign slave girl to secure permission from his king to make this long trip, traveling into a neighboring kingdom filled with foreigners who had a weird language, ate strange food and were generally considered inferior.  He gathers significant wealth, some 750 pounds of silver and 150 pounds of gold, to ensure he could pay for the cure he so desired.  He seems ready to do whatever is necessary.

 

Until he reaches the prophet Elisha=s house.  But Elisha disses him, not deigning to come out and greet him personally.  Now certainly Naaman was prideful, but at the same time, this was a great diplomatic faux pas, perceived by Naaman as a great insult.  After all, he would have arrived with a great entourage befitting his status as the Commander of the Army.  For Elisha not to come out and greet him as the dignitary he was, but to send his servant with a message, was humiliating and more than Naaman could take.  So he storms off in a rage!

 

I can understand Naaman=s feelings.  I would have felt slighted, too.  I hate it when I try to call a doctor and all I get to speak to is a receptionist or office nurse.  Or when I try to call a clergy colleague and only get to speak to the Church secretary.  Humility is hard.  Yet it is so often a necessary step in our healing process.

 

Elisha certainly could have come out.  For that matter, he could have made the trip to Damascus himself.  He could probably have healed Naaman at a distance, sending his servant with the prescription to Naaman=s home.  But he let Naaman come to him.  Elisha didn=t want Naaman merely to be rid of leprosy; he wanted him to be more deeply healed.  He wanted him to receive the healing which cured the soul.  He understood that Naaman had an important role to play in his healing if his soul was to be cured.  Naaman had to embrace humility.  Naaman had to embrace obedience to God.  Naaman had to embrace God as God and not just his personal vending machine for health.

 

So Elisha=s prescription was humbling as well: AGo to the River Jordan and immerse yourself seven times.  Your skin willb e healed and you=ll be as good as new.@  As if the etiquette slight wasn=t bad enough, this direction from the prophet could not possibly be right.  Even today, pilgrims to Israel can hardly believe their eyes when they gaze upon the Jordan.  It is hard to even call it a river, so small and slow moving and muddy, more like a country creek.  It is a nasty mess of a river.  While I was there we saw large rodents of some sort swimming in it.  No one would look at that water and imagine that exposing open wounds in there could possibly bring healing C more likely infection.  Naaman=s ego certainly took a beating.

 

Faith is the crumpling of pride, best achieved through something as simple, as obvious, as unimpressive as a bit of water that only Elisha or somebody desperately thirsty would think of as powerful.  Fortunately for Naaman his servants knew how to manage him for his own good.  Like good political handlers they confront him and remind him that he would gladly have undertaken a difficult task at the direction of the prophet.  Certainly it was worth a try to follow these simple directions, after all, it had been a long trip and they faced the same long trip home. 

It doesn=t take too much imagination to hear the curses and AI-told-you-so=s@ of this soldier through the first six dips.  But we know there was a miracle in that water.  And after the seventh dip, sure the leprosy washed downstream.  But more important, when Naaman stepped up onto the river bank, drenched and dripping, he was no longer a man but a boy.  AHis skin was healed; it was like the skin of a little baby.  He was as good as new.@  His body was healed, but his soul was cured.  Without romanticizing childhood, we may recognize its virtues: vulnerability; an implicit demand for justice; the way children show their treasures, weep in the open, accept grace readily and are easily amazed.  To follow Jesus is a form of returning to childhood, a training in humility.  All of our gestures seem silly: folding our hands, bowing our heads, kneeling.  How do you get ahead or defend yourself acting in these ways?  We believe in vulnerability, humility and even dipping in a no-account river on the suggestion of a two-bit prophet who wouldn=t answer the door. 

 

HEALING THAT CURES THE SOUL

(Preached on Sunday, February 15, 2009)

One day she said to her mistress, AOh, if only my master could meet the prophet of Samaria, he would be healed of his skin disease.@                       -2 Kings 5:3

 

At the close of World War II, a German officer returned to his home city of Dresden, to find it utterly devastated by the Allied bombing.  It was not a military target, but was bombed as an act of retaliation for the German bombing of London.  He found his street, but where his house had been there was only a pile of rubble.  He learned that his mother and sister had been in the house when it collapsed and remained buried under tons of stone.  In utter despair, and with anger filling his heart, he wandered the streets.  As a Christian he had done his best, often in the most difficult circumstances, to help people in that terrible wartime.  Now, he felt nothing but hatred for those who had taken from him those he loved.

 

At last he arrived at the church he had attended with his mother.  The church lay in ruins, but he could make his way to the pew where they customarily sat.  As he looked around, his glance fell upon the altar, now covered with dust.  The gold was gone, but the inscription was still clear: ABe you reconciled to God in spite of all.@  The message was also clear to him.  He could not be reconciled to God without banishing the hatred that had filled him.  He decided at that moment that his life must be spent in the ministry of reconciliation and understanding, as a disciple of the one who taught his followers to pray: AForgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.@

 

The journey toward healing is not an easy one.  The first step is recognizing what is holding you back and naming it.  The second step, often a long and arduous one, is letting go.  We are called to let go of our hurts, as well as our sins.  In order to let go, we have to look into the closets of our pain and sort through them.  Once we see what is holding us back, we need to let go of it.  We can offer it to God, who is powerful enough to bear it for us.  Letting go frees us to move ahead, to grasp something new, to allow God to heal and transform our pain into something beautiful.  This doesn=t always mean that our circumstances change, but that our hearts become soft and open to love and grace.  Remember, God cannot place forgiveness and mercy into hands that are already full.

 

This is the healing that cures the soul.  But it is usually not a dramatic experience that comes to us through a prophet waving his hand over us or invoking some magical words that bring about a miraculous  cure.  God=s way of healing is usually through far muddier, messier means.  And it requires the work of acceptance and obedience on our part.

 

This is what the great General Naaman learned.  Naaman was a man of valor, of substance.  He was a great warrior, highly respected and decorated in his home country.  He had won great battles and was a favorite of his King, able to secure an audience at a moment=s notice.  But C there is always a Abut@ C he had leprosy. While we cannot know his precise, modern medical diagnosis, we can certainly infer from his actions that it was a serious, perhaps life-threatening, affliction.  At the very least it must have caused him great social pain, possibly leading the troops he directed to wonder whether he was weak or not.  After all, he acts immediately on the suggestion of this slip of a foreign slave girl to secure permission from his king to make this long trip, traveling into a neighboring kingdom filled with foreigners who had a weird language, ate strange food and were generally considered inferior.  He gathers significant wealth, some 750 pounds of silver and 150 pounds of gold, to ensure he could pay for the cure he so desired.  He seems ready to do whatever is necessary.

 

Until he reaches the prophet Elisha=s house.  But Elisha disses him, not deigning to come out and greet him personally.  Now certainly Naaman was prideful, but at the same time, this was a great diplomatic faux pas, perceived by Naaman as a great insult.  After all, he would have arrived with a great entourage befitting his status as the Commander of the Army.  For Elisha not to come out and greet him as the dignitary he was, but to send his servant with a message, was humiliating and more than Naaman could take.  So he storms off in a rage!

 

I can understand Naaman=s feelings.  I would have felt slighted, too.  I hate it when I try to call a doctor and all I get to speak to is a receptionist or office nurse.  Or when I try to call a clergy colleague and only get to speak to the Church secretary.  Humility is hard.  Yet it is so often a necessary step in our healing process.

 

Elisha certainly could have come out.  For that matter, he could have made the trip to Damascus himself.  He could probably have healed Naaman at a distance, sending his servant with the prescription to Naaman=s home.  But he let Naaman come to him.  Elisha didn=t want Naaman merely to be rid of leprosy; he wanted him to be more deeply healed.  He wanted him to receive the healing which cured the soul.  He understood that Naaman had an important role to play in his healing if his soul was to be cured.  Naaman had to embrace humility.  Naaman had to embrace obedience to God.  Naaman had to embrace God as God and not just his personal vending machine for health.

 

So Elisha=s prescription was humbling as well: AGo to the River Jordan and immerse yourself seven times.  Your skin willb e healed and you=ll be as good as new.@  As if the etiquette slight wasn=t bad enough, this direction from the prophet could not possibly be right.  Even today, pilgrims to Israel can hardly believe their eyes when they gaze upon the Jordan.  It is hard to even call it a river, so small and slow moving and muddy, more like a country creek.  It is a nasty mess of a river.  While I was there we saw large rodents of some sort swimming in it.  No one would look at that water and imagine that exposing open wounds in there could possibly bring healing C more likely infection.  Naaman=s ego certainly took a beating.

 

Faith is the crumpling of pride, best achieved through something as simple, as obvious, as unimpressive as a bit of water that only Elisha or somebody desperately thirsty would think of as powerful.  Fortunately for Naaman his servants knew how to manage him for his own good.  Like good political handlers they confront him and remind him that he would gladly have undertaken a difficult task at the direction of the prophet.  Certainly it was worth a try to follow these simple directions, after all, it had been a long trip and they faced the same long trip home. 

It doesn=t take too much imagination to hear the curses and AI-told-you-so=s@ of this soldier through the first six dips.  But we know there was a miracle in that water.  And after the seventh dip, sure the leprosy washed downstream.  But more important, when Naaman stepped up onto the river bank, drenched and dripping, he was no longer a man but a boy.  AHis skin was healed; it was like the skin of a little baby.  He was as good as new.@  His body was healed, but his soul was cured.  Without romanticizing childhood, we may recognize its virtues: vulnerability; an implicit demand for justice; the way children show their treasures, weep in the open, accept grace readily and are easily amazed.  To follow Jesus is a form of returning to childhood, a training in humility.  All of our gestures seem silly: folding our hands, bowing our heads, kneeling.  How do you get ahead or defend yourself acting in these ways?  We believe in vulnerability, humility and even dipping in a no-account river on the suggestion of a two-bit prophet who wouldn=t answer the door.