February 15, 2015

Helen Jacobi

Year B     Ordinary Sunday 6     2 Kings 5:1-14     Psalm 30     1 Corinthians 9:24-27     Mark 1:40-45

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Our story begins with Naaman, commander of the army of the king, a great man in high favor with his master. This is an important man, a four-star general, head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, decorated for military victories, in favor with the king, one of the inner circle. Naaman, though a mighty warrior, suffered from a skin disease. A mighty warrior but infected with a disease so devastating that his skin seemed to be rotting on his bones. Next in the story is a slave, carried off in a raid into Israel. Mighty warriors were accustomed to such booty-gold, silver, chariots, horses, and slaves. They could have what they wanted. This particular slave girl (nameless, of course) had been carried from her home and now served Naaman's wife. She is as small as Naaman is big. The power he has is the power she lacks. Yet, she is not silent. "If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria," she told her mistress, "he would cure him of his leprosy."

Now why did this young girl care about this man whose army had carried her away from her own people? That's one question, but here's another. Why did Naaman and the king listen to what this slave girl said? The text doesn't tell us such things - only that the king gave Naaman permission to go. So Naaman departs with lots of gifts and a letter of introduction from his king. But when the king of Israel reads the letter, he's distressed to the core. "Am I God," he asks, "to give life or death that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy?" It doesn't occur to the king that he wasn't in the center of things. "This is between kings," he thought. "The king of Aram is trying to trick me!"

Enter Elisha, the prophet. "Stop tearing your clothes," he tells the king. "You're not the only one around here, you know. Send the man to me so that he may learn there's a prophet in Israel." With that, the king drops out of the picture, his clothes ripped to shreds. The mighty warrior and his chariots and horses and gifts of gold and silver head to Elisha's house.

Oh, this is a great scene! Elisha doesn't even come out of his house! He sends his servant out with a message for Naaman. "Go, wash seven times in the Jordan and you will be clean." Well, Naaman isn't used to this. He's a man with authority. He's accustomed to speaking with kings, his own king and the kings of other nations. Who does Elisha think he is? Naaman has no intention of washing in the muddy Jordan. "Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel?" If Israel's prophet is going to insult Naaman by not even coming out to meet him, then Naaman is going to insult Israel's river. With that outburst, the mighty warrior turns toward home. And that would have been the end of it. Except for the servants (also nameless). Naaman's servants are horrified with their master's behavior. "Father," they said, "if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more when all he said to you was, 'Wash, and be clean?" Ahh, they know how to get to their master. Of course, he'd do something difficult. He had done many difficult things before. He was, after all, a mighty warrior. So he's surely brave enough to wash in a muddy river. With that, Naaman turned around, went down to the Jordan, and immersed himself seven times. When he came out of the water that last time, he looked down at his hands and his feet. His flesh was like the flesh of a young boy. But none of the servants said, "I told you so." [1]

That version of the Naaman story is by Rev Barbara Lundblad, USA. It is a tale of the powerful and the powerless. The military commander and the kings in the end turn out to be the powerless; and the slave girl, the servants and Elisha the prophet, whose power is in the way they speak the truth in simplicity and humility. The powerful, the ones in control had trouble listening and talked past each other. The powerless offered their service and their advice despite owing their masters no loyalty. They modelled humility and simplicity as they way to healing and grace.

Naaman was a commander in Syria around 850BC. 2800 years later we read his story alongside TV clips of other commanders in Syria and Iraq bringing violence and destruction on their people. Namaan’s slave girl taken as the booty of war even has a modern day equivalent in American Kayla Mueller taken captive and perhaps “married” off as the booty of war; and sadly killed in Iraq. Her heartfelt letter to her parents from last year she says “I have learnt that even in prison one can be free”. [2] This was the attitude of our unnamed slave girl as well – she chose to be free – she chose to offer help to Naaman her captor. The way to healing, the way to peace, is never through violence and more violence; but through humility and simplicity.

We come on Wednesday to the season of Lent, the 40 days leading up to Easter. The 40 days hold within them a tradition of fasting, prayer, self-reflection and almsgiving. We begin on Ash Wednesday with an ancient ritual of marking our foreheads with ash. A sign of sorrow and mourning; a symbol Naaman and Elisha would have been familiar with. We use our ash to make the sign of the cross, reminding us of the sign marked on our foreheads at baptism, and reminding us of our mortality “remember you are dust and to dust you shall return”. It is an earthy, grounded beginning for the forty days.

Then we are encouraged to spend more time than usual in listening, prayer and reflection – hence our Lenten programme of preachers and discussions; we are encouraged to “fast” – some people give up coffee or alcohol or chocolate or watch their spending and consumption levels – as a way of saying – these things do not have control over me. Like Namaan who could control a whole army but not his health – I am not controlled by my consumption of goods; and every time I crave that coffee or drink, I remember those who have much less than me and could not dream of buying a coffee every day; and I pray for them or put my coffee money aside to donate to the needs of refugees from Iraq. And we give “alms”; give to those in need – we can double our groceries for the City Mission; the Anglican Missions Board has provided envelopes for their Lenten Appeal; many other places could benefit from our Lenten discipline.

And why in particular for these 40 days? because we always have; because it is healthy to take stock, to reflect in a focussed way but we don’t feel we have to keep it up all year; and because it prepares us for Holy Week, slows us down, quietens our hearts and minds, so we can be ready for the journey to the cross. And then when we come to Easter Day our celebration is all the more joyful.

Faced with our media headlines, how do we get that Lenten personal level of focus and humility to have any influence on the global level where our modern day Naamans are wreaking havoc across the Middle East? How do we bring what we know to be simple and true to the table, like the slave girl did. There are voices speaking out, saying at least we in NZ should not be involved (CWS) [3] in military action again in Iraq. And they point out we could spend that money on humanitarian aid, which we should. But when we see such violence and destruction it is hard to hold back and not respond with more military might.

And so we need a conversation in our political realm which is not “political” but really looking at our options. And a conversation which has within it the humility and simplicity of Lent. It has been shown many times to be the only way to healing and grace.

We are invited this Lent to live with humility and simplicity as we seek healing and grace.

[1] http://day1.org/530-what_the_mighty_might_learn Sermon by Rev Dr Barbara Lundblad 16 Feb 2003 adapted

[2] http://edition.cnn.com/2015/02/10/world/kayla-mueller-letter/index.html

[3] http://www.cws.org.nz/newsroom/media-releases/open-letter-military-deployment-iraq