St. Margaret's Sermon Archive
EPIPHANY VI - Susan N. Blue 02/12/06
EPIPHANY VI
Rev. Susan N. Blue
The Lesson: 2 Kings 5.1-14
The Psalm: Psalm 30
The Epistle: 1 Corinthians 9.24-27
The Gospel: Mark 1.40-45
"If we want to have all our bases covered before we act, nothing exciting will happen. But if we dare to take a few crazy risks because God asks us to do so, many doors, which we didn't even know existed will open for us."
--Henri Nouwen
When I began to write this sermon, I realized that I was going to break a rule. My highly revered preaching professor in seminary warned me and my classmates against two preaching sins: the first-tackling more than one of the readings in the sermon and the second-addressing too many points or having too many themes, even if good ones. So today I am going to be thankful that my preaching professor is not here, and break one of his rules but follow the other. I am going to talk about more than one of the scripture readings, but I will do so deliberately and mindfully, with the purpose of clearly illuminating just one of the teachings that emerges from today's readings. We are going to explore the examples of two lepers, Naaman and the unnamed leper in the gospel of Mark, immersing ourselves in the stories of two men who both seek healing and transformation.
In the reading from 2 Kings we encounter leper #1, Naaman, army commander for the king of the country of Aram, or present-day Syria. Most likely Naaman was not suffering from the painful condition we now call Hansen's disease. In this text, the term leprosy most likey referred to one of many chronic, but less serious, skin conditions. In Israelite culture at this time, we know that any skin condition, even a minor one, would render a person unclean and therefore unable to take any part in the religious rituals of the temple. Many lepers were relegated to living outside the boundaries of a town or community, and they regularly experienced social exclusion. We don't know exactly how Naaman's leprosy affected life in his society. Naaman obviously had accomplished respect, stature and success as a military commander despite his leprosy. But we sense from this story that his leprosy was somehow equally troubling and isolating as it might be in Israelite society. Naaman's leprosy could not have been inconsequential, for he leaps, without hesitation, at the suggestion of an Israelite slave girl to seek the healing of a prophet in Israel. Naaman is willing to undertake the trip to Israel; he is willing to give up 10 talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold and even 10 of his garments. Naaman's leprosy is burden enough, either emotionally or physically, that he will go to great lengths to seek his freedom from this condition. Naaman covers all his bases before he leaves, even going to his boss, the king, to seek approval for his journey.
So Naaman goes to Elisha, entourage and all-horses, chariots, talents of silver, shekels of gold, and last but not least, the garments. At this point in the story, we may not be expecting anything in particular to happen, but Naaman apparently is. When Elisha sends a messenger to Naaman telling him that he will be healed by washing in the Jordan seven times, Naaman is insulted and offended. Naaman's expectation of the remarkable-Elisha in person, waving his hand, conjuring a cure-is so strong, that Naaman is incapable of welcoming the unremarkable, even thought the unremarkable is of God. Naaman stomps his feet and walks away. Why come all this way? After all, he could have dipped in the river seven times in his home country.
But the possibility that God was present in this command from Elisha did not escape some of Naaman's servants. They approached him-I imagine-with fear and apprehension, humbly questioning, "Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it?" And we see a glimpse of the openness and belief that brought Naaman to Israel in the first place. He listens to his servants, going to the Jordan river and washing in it seven times. Not only is his flesh restored to the likeness of the flesh of a young boy but-perhaps more important-Naaman was now clean-clean; free; whole and fulfilled in a way he had not been before.
Naaman owes his restoration in this story in part to the servants who are willing to raise voices of belief. Naaman's very presence in Israel results from the faith of an Israelite slave girl in Syria who knew of God's healing power and was willing to take a risk and insist to Naaman's wife that he should go and seek out this prophet of God.
Then, Naaman reconsiders the command to wash in the Jordan at the persistence of his unnamed servants. They said, 'Master Naaman, don't walk away without trying this cure just because it is simple. Do what the prophet is asking of you, even if it doesn't make sense or if it isn't what you expected.' Naaman is urged to take a chance on this healing command, and through Naaman's example, we are reminded that God's presence in our lives does not always appear in predictable ways. So, we must take the risk of welcoming God in unexpected ways and through unexpected people. For risk is not only the willingness to do something dangerous or courageous or believe in something amazing, it is all the ability to live with an intense openness to God's presence-a presence that loves us, heals us, and calls upon our hearts and minds to believe and act.
The miracle of the story of Naaman lies not only in the physical healing of his skin condition, but also in the remarkable spiritual transformation that Naaman experienced. Naaman believed enough in some-thing to travel to Israel and seek out the prophet Elisha; after washing in the Jordan River Naaman believed in one thing: the Lord, the God of Israel. Through the belief and risk of his servants, a door was opened to Naaman that he didn't even know existed: the door of faith in the Lord and relationship with the God of Israel. So risking for God isn't just about ourselves; it is also about contributing to the spiritual growth of others and witnessing to the presence of God in our human lives. Risking is not about doing something rash, either, or about doing something or being something that will be rewarded or applauded. It is about being and living for God.
As I reflect upon the story of Naaman, and how his faith is changed in the short span of this story, I wonder how the leper we encounter in Mark's gospel has come to his bold, assertive, and in-your-face belief. This leper seeks Jesus out on his own, kneels at Jesus' feet, and makes the unwavering proclamation, "If you choose, you can make me clean." The leper does not state his urgent desire for wholeness in the form of a question. Rather, he confronts Jesus' reality as the Son of God and tells Jesus that he knows and he believes that Jesus has the power to heal his leprosy.
This unnamed leper has arrived spiritually to a point where he possesses the strength of conviction to take a risky action, to make a bold statement to Jesus about who Jesus is and what Jesus can do to transform his life. And there is the drive of desire behind the leper's courage and boldness-he is seeking to encounter God, and when the leper recognizes God in Jesus, he grabs the chance for relationship and connection to the divine. Through his example, this unnamed leper can now play a role for others akin to that of the servants in the story of Naaman-giving others the confidence to risk for God and ultimately to be brought closer to God, closer to wholeness, closer to a purity of body, mind, and heart. These servants and unnamed lepers are a means of God's grace for us by nudging us toward openness and transformation even when we resist exposure-knowingly or unknowingly-to such experiences.
The growth of faith is not always risk in the form of active actions, but can also take the form of an intentional orientation of the spirit-a radical willingness to be open to God. I'd like to be able to offer some suggestions of risks that you can take, or bases you can uncover, or ways that you can encourage others to grow in their faith, but I realize that is not the point of this sermon or of the lessons we have explored. I don't want to overlook the basics-regular prayer and worship are certainly foundations of a life of openness to God. But these lepers' stories remind us about the unexpected and unpredictable ways in which we often encounter God.
I would like to end my words today by taking a final moment to talk about a man who embodied an openness to respond to the ground breaking path to which he was called by God. Each year, on February 13, the Episcopal Church honors the life and ministry of Absalom Jones, the first African American ordained to the priesthood in our church. As a member of St. George's Methodist Church in Philadelphia in the 1780's, Jones was a church leader and licensed lay preacher in a congregation where blacks and whites worshipped side by side. Sadly, however, some of St. George's leaders began to insist that the black worshippers sit in their own gallery separate from the whites. The story goes that Absalom Jones had to be removed from the main sanctuary while kneeling in prayer. The black parishioners of St. George's permanently left this parish, but continued to worship together and work for their community as part of The Free African Society, established in 1787 and co-founded by Jones. Several years later, this group formed the "First African Church" of Philadelphia, which voted to conform to the worship and polity of the Episcopal Church and called Absalom Jones to be the church's spiritual leader. In 1794, this parish was received officially into the Diocese of Pennsylvania. In 1795, Jones was ordained as a deacon in the Episcopal Church and then as a priest in 1802. We honor Absalom Jones for answering the call to serve his community as a spiritual leader of integrity and vision, and for his willingness to undertake the unpredicted and unexpected opportunities to transform our church. Thanks be to God for the life and ministry of this minister of our Church, Absalom Jones.
"If we want to have all our bases covered before we act, nothing exciting will happen. But if we dare to take a few crazy risks because God asks us to do so, many doors, which we didn't even know existed will open for us."
Amen.
Rev. Susan N. Blue
The Lesson: 2 Kings 5.1-14
The Psalm: Psalm 30
The Epistle: 1 Corinthians 9.24-27
The Gospel: Mark 1.40-45
"If we want to have all our bases covered before we act, nothing exciting will happen. But if we dare to take a few crazy risks because God asks us to do so, many doors, which we didn't even know existed will open for us."
--Henri Nouwen
When I began to write this sermon, I realized that I was going to break a rule. My highly revered preaching professor in seminary warned me and my classmates against two preaching sins: the first-tackling more than one of the readings in the sermon and the second-addressing too many points or having too many themes, even if good ones. So today I am going to be thankful that my preaching professor is not here, and break one of his rules but follow the other. I am going to talk about more than one of the scripture readings, but I will do so deliberately and mindfully, with the purpose of clearly illuminating just one of the teachings that emerges from today's readings. We are going to explore the examples of two lepers, Naaman and the unnamed leper in the gospel of Mark, immersing ourselves in the stories of two men who both seek healing and transformation.
In the reading from 2 Kings we encounter leper #1, Naaman, army commander for the king of the country of Aram, or present-day Syria. Most likely Naaman was not suffering from the painful condition we now call Hansen's disease. In this text, the term leprosy most likey referred to one of many chronic, but less serious, skin conditions. In Israelite culture at this time, we know that any skin condition, even a minor one, would render a person unclean and therefore unable to take any part in the religious rituals of the temple. Many lepers were relegated to living outside the boundaries of a town or community, and they regularly experienced social exclusion. We don't know exactly how Naaman's leprosy affected life in his society. Naaman obviously had accomplished respect, stature and success as a military commander despite his leprosy. But we sense from this story that his leprosy was somehow equally troubling and isolating as it might be in Israelite society. Naaman's leprosy could not have been inconsequential, for he leaps, without hesitation, at the suggestion of an Israelite slave girl to seek the healing of a prophet in Israel. Naaman is willing to undertake the trip to Israel; he is willing to give up 10 talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold and even 10 of his garments. Naaman's leprosy is burden enough, either emotionally or physically, that he will go to great lengths to seek his freedom from this condition. Naaman covers all his bases before he leaves, even going to his boss, the king, to seek approval for his journey.
So Naaman goes to Elisha, entourage and all-horses, chariots, talents of silver, shekels of gold, and last but not least, the garments. At this point in the story, we may not be expecting anything in particular to happen, but Naaman apparently is. When Elisha sends a messenger to Naaman telling him that he will be healed by washing in the Jordan seven times, Naaman is insulted and offended. Naaman's expectation of the remarkable-Elisha in person, waving his hand, conjuring a cure-is so strong, that Naaman is incapable of welcoming the unremarkable, even thought the unremarkable is of God. Naaman stomps his feet and walks away. Why come all this way? After all, he could have dipped in the river seven times in his home country.
But the possibility that God was present in this command from Elisha did not escape some of Naaman's servants. They approached him-I imagine-with fear and apprehension, humbly questioning, "Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it?" And we see a glimpse of the openness and belief that brought Naaman to Israel in the first place. He listens to his servants, going to the Jordan river and washing in it seven times. Not only is his flesh restored to the likeness of the flesh of a young boy but-perhaps more important-Naaman was now clean-clean; free; whole and fulfilled in a way he had not been before.
Naaman owes his restoration in this story in part to the servants who are willing to raise voices of belief. Naaman's very presence in Israel results from the faith of an Israelite slave girl in Syria who knew of God's healing power and was willing to take a risk and insist to Naaman's wife that he should go and seek out this prophet of God.
Then, Naaman reconsiders the command to wash in the Jordan at the persistence of his unnamed servants. They said, 'Master Naaman, don't walk away without trying this cure just because it is simple. Do what the prophet is asking of you, even if it doesn't make sense or if it isn't what you expected.' Naaman is urged to take a chance on this healing command, and through Naaman's example, we are reminded that God's presence in our lives does not always appear in predictable ways. So, we must take the risk of welcoming God in unexpected ways and through unexpected people. For risk is not only the willingness to do something dangerous or courageous or believe in something amazing, it is all the ability to live with an intense openness to God's presence-a presence that loves us, heals us, and calls upon our hearts and minds to believe and act.
The miracle of the story of Naaman lies not only in the physical healing of his skin condition, but also in the remarkable spiritual transformation that Naaman experienced. Naaman believed enough in some-thing to travel to Israel and seek out the prophet Elisha; after washing in the Jordan River Naaman believed in one thing: the Lord, the God of Israel. Through the belief and risk of his servants, a door was opened to Naaman that he didn't even know existed: the door of faith in the Lord and relationship with the God of Israel. So risking for God isn't just about ourselves; it is also about contributing to the spiritual growth of others and witnessing to the presence of God in our human lives. Risking is not about doing something rash, either, or about doing something or being something that will be rewarded or applauded. It is about being and living for God.
As I reflect upon the story of Naaman, and how his faith is changed in the short span of this story, I wonder how the leper we encounter in Mark's gospel has come to his bold, assertive, and in-your-face belief. This leper seeks Jesus out on his own, kneels at Jesus' feet, and makes the unwavering proclamation, "If you choose, you can make me clean." The leper does not state his urgent desire for wholeness in the form of a question. Rather, he confronts Jesus' reality as the Son of God and tells Jesus that he knows and he believes that Jesus has the power to heal his leprosy.
This unnamed leper has arrived spiritually to a point where he possesses the strength of conviction to take a risky action, to make a bold statement to Jesus about who Jesus is and what Jesus can do to transform his life. And there is the drive of desire behind the leper's courage and boldness-he is seeking to encounter God, and when the leper recognizes God in Jesus, he grabs the chance for relationship and connection to the divine. Through his example, this unnamed leper can now play a role for others akin to that of the servants in the story of Naaman-giving others the confidence to risk for God and ultimately to be brought closer to God, closer to wholeness, closer to a purity of body, mind, and heart. These servants and unnamed lepers are a means of God's grace for us by nudging us toward openness and transformation even when we resist exposure-knowingly or unknowingly-to such experiences.
The growth of faith is not always risk in the form of active actions, but can also take the form of an intentional orientation of the spirit-a radical willingness to be open to God. I'd like to be able to offer some suggestions of risks that you can take, or bases you can uncover, or ways that you can encourage others to grow in their faith, but I realize that is not the point of this sermon or of the lessons we have explored. I don't want to overlook the basics-regular prayer and worship are certainly foundations of a life of openness to God. But these lepers' stories remind us about the unexpected and unpredictable ways in which we often encounter God.
I would like to end my words today by taking a final moment to talk about a man who embodied an openness to respond to the ground breaking path to which he was called by God. Each year, on February 13, the Episcopal Church honors the life and ministry of Absalom Jones, the first African American ordained to the priesthood in our church. As a member of St. George's Methodist Church in Philadelphia in the 1780's, Jones was a church leader and licensed lay preacher in a congregation where blacks and whites worshipped side by side. Sadly, however, some of St. George's leaders began to insist that the black worshippers sit in their own gallery separate from the whites. The story goes that Absalom Jones had to be removed from the main sanctuary while kneeling in prayer. The black parishioners of St. George's permanently left this parish, but continued to worship together and work for their community as part of The Free African Society, established in 1787 and co-founded by Jones. Several years later, this group formed the "First African Church" of Philadelphia, which voted to conform to the worship and polity of the Episcopal Church and called Absalom Jones to be the church's spiritual leader. In 1794, this parish was received officially into the Diocese of Pennsylvania. In 1795, Jones was ordained as a deacon in the Episcopal Church and then as a priest in 1802. We honor Absalom Jones for answering the call to serve his community as a spiritual leader of integrity and vision, and for his willingness to undertake the unpredicted and unexpected opportunities to transform our church. Thanks be to God for the life and ministry of this minister of our Church, Absalom Jones.
"If we want to have all our bases covered before we act, nothing exciting will happen. But if we dare to take a few crazy risks because God asks us to do so, many doors, which we didn't even know existed will open for us."
Amen.