The Voice of Grace

2 Kings 5: 1-14 Marianne Niesen February 12, 2012

A Peanuts cartoon shows Charlie Brown visiting Lucy who is at her stand offering psychiatric help for a nickel. Charlie pleads, "I need help! Tell me a great truth. Tell me something about living that will help me." This, of course, is just up Lucy’s alley! She responds, "Do you ever wake up at night and want a drink of water?" "Sure," says Charlie, "quite often." Lucy then opines wisely, "When you're getting a drink of water in the dark, always rinse out the glass because there might be a bug in it! Five cents, please." Charlie pays, and walks away musing, "Great truths are even more simple than I thought they were." Indeed! It is true – at least sometimes – that wisdom need not be complicated. It is also true that sometimes even the Lucys among us know things!

Consider these ‘words of wisdom.’

· From the Dali Lama: When you lose, don't lose the lesson.

· Will Rogers: Even if you're on the right track you'll get run over if you just sit there.

· Albert Schweitzer: Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory.

· Rosa Parks: Stand for something or you will fall for anything. Today's mighty oak is yesterday's nut that held its ground.

· Helen Keller: To be blind is bad, but worse is to have eyes and not see.

· Theodore Roosevelt: Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

· Or, from comedienne Lily Tomlin: The trouble with the rat-race is that, even if you win, you're still a rat.

Of course, you probably recognized many of the names there. I chose those quotes with that in mind. But, I also found these: Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending. That is attributed to a man named Carl Bard. I had no idea who he was – or is. And a brief search only revealed that he is an author. Then there is this, from the well known source ‘Anonymous:’ To change our lives, we must first change our minds. That’s good, sound, advice – regardless who said it.

Or consider this story of a mother telling of overhearing a conversation between her two daughters. The younger one had been having considerable frustration trying to learn how to know which shoe went on which foot. "Listen," said the older girl to the younger, "I'm going to tell you something and I want you to remember this the rest of your life. Do you promise to remember this for as long as you live?" The younger girl meekly promised, "Yes." The older sister said, "Okay, here it is. Whenever you put on your shoe, if it hurts, you've got it on the wrong foot!" Also good advice, even coming from a child.

The point is that wisdom can come from many places. We have our trusted sources and those are definitely important. However, wisdom can also come from unexpected places and ordinary folks. Who of us has not at some point been brought up short by the depth of a child’s question or observation of the world? Who of us has not been taken by a saying attributed to ‘anonymous’ that seems to get at the heart of things? The rich and famous, the well known and well loved do not have a corner on wisdom. We know that . . . and yet, from time to time, we all need to be reminded to listen better to the experiences and observations of the less-than-famous, the ordinary, the anonymous voices in our lives. And that brings us back to our scripture text today.

This is an Old Testament story focusing on a relatively obscure character, Naaman. His story is not one of those told and retold in Sunday school. In fact, he may have been all but forgotten (especially among Christians) – except Jesus mentioned him in his inaugural sermon at Nazareth. In Luke 4, Jesus was preaching in the synagogue, claiming to be a prophet, one sent to ‘proclaim good news to the poor and the year of the Lord’s favor.’ The people listening seemed to be intrigued with him until he implied that, in the end, they wouldn’t appreciate him, wouldn’t listen. He said, there were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian. And when he finished saying that, Luke tells us that the people became enraged and tried to kill him by throwing him off a cliff.

What enraged them? I’ve read that text many times and always thought this was just a hostile crowd to begin with. But it wasn’t! At the beginning, they listened. At the end, when he mentioned Naaman, they went ballistic. Why? To get at that, let’s look at the text. This ‘Naaman’ was from the land of Aram (or, Syria). That means he was a Gentile. And he was a powerful Aramean. He was the chief commander of the king’s army. By the time we meet Naaman, that army had conquered Israel’s land and peoples. [1] As chief commander, Naaman had amassed tremendous wealth for himself and his king – slaves, silver, gold – all the spoils of war. The king, understandably, was pleased with him and having a king on your side and in your debt was a good thing. But all of that wealth and favor could not save Naaman from illness. He had leprosy, a disease that would eventually sap his strength and eliminate his power. It doesn’t seem that he was separated or shunned, as happened among Jews. But, still, he suffered from a skin illness of some kind that was judged to be serious. And then, something amazing happened. A young slave girl, taken captive from Israel, who had been given to Naaman’s wife, saw the illness for what it was – serious but curable. You need to see a doctor! And the doctor I recommend is the prophet I know in Samaria. He could handle this!

Don’t miss the irony here. By making this suggestion, the girl risks a lot. She implies that the ‘doctors’ and ‘prophets’ and ‘holy people’ in Syria can’t do what needs to be done. Usually slaves know enough to keep opinions like this to themselves. And the only thing crazier than what the girl does is how Naaman responds. He takes her up on her suggestion! He heads straight to the king and asks for sick leave because his wife’s slave has diagnosed his illness and written a prescription. Imagine the conversation. Great King of the Arameans, I was talking to my wife’s slave – the one you gave me after we plundered Israel – and she thinks there’s a prophet in Samaria who might help clear up this rash. What d’ya think I go and check it out? And, even more amazing than that, the king apparently says, sure! Here’s some cash and a letter of reference to the king over there. I know we did some plundering but I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you. Really?

Of course, the King of Israel at the time – Jehoram – is freaked out. He smells a rat – and for good reason. The last time the Arameans showed up in town, things didn’t go so well. And, remember that the slave girl hadn’t said anything at all about going to the king. She said the prophet could help. How often the rich and powerful think wealth and power can save. Naaman, amazingly willing to listen to the girl, just couldn’t bring himself to search out a lowly prophet. If there was healing power to be found in Israel, the king must own it. Not so.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch . . . Elisha, the prophet, hears about the visit. Not surprising, of course. After all, Naaman arrived with an entourage, including chariots and horses. They hardly slipped in, unnoticed! And Elisha, being a prophet and all, knows the king’s response so he tells him to send Naaman over to him. He’d deal with it. So, over Naaman goes. And, Elisha doesn’t even come out of his house! He just gives instructions about what must be done – wash in the Jordan. Wade in the water, as the song goes. Naaman is furious – which is just a bit surprising because by this point in the story, he has already done stranger things than taking a bath in a foreign river. But, apparently, that was the final straw. No way, he says. I’m an important guy. If that prophet was as good as he’s supposed to be, he’d know how important I am and he’d come out here and wave his hand, do fancy magic, and the leprosy would be gone and I could go home and take a bath in my own rivers – which, by the way, are much nicer than this muddy thing. So, he who has come so far, digs in and pouts. (Such a helpful strategy! And we’ve all done it, haven’t we?)

And that would have been the end if one of his own servants hadn’t approached him and said hey Mr. Commander-with-Leprosy! What have you got to lose? If he’d told you to do something hard, you’d have done it. This is easy. Why not give it a try? And again, the important, powerful, rich Naaman listened. And he washed and he was made clean. There is something about Naaman you have to like! He is so achingly human! One bible commentator observes this:

When one examines this story, one can quickly see that it is not the powerful, wealthy or dominant (Naaman, his wife, the two kings) who are the heroes, but rather the weak (the captive girl), the powerless (the servants), the obedient (the prophet). Authentic power is not found in the political or economic systems of a nation, because power will always seek to serve and to protect itself – even at the expense of the people. The only kind of power that will truly transform will be an enslaved girl’s kindness, a prophet’s refusal to be intimidated or impressed and the wisdom and candor of the servant. [2]

And so, when Jesus referred to Naaman in that first sermon in Nazareth, I think he made a deliberate choice and I wonder if he wasn’t implying that many of those listening were like Naaman, the leper, the Gentile, the Syrian. Naaman was healed not because of his power, his wealth, his righteousness. Naaman was healed because he listened to the slave girl, the faithful prophet, and the lowly servants. Naaman’s healing challenged the common wisdom that power and wealth, fame and fortune are all we need in the world. That greatness is being self-sufficient. The fact is, we need each other. And we need to listen more to the unlikely voices of wisdom, the people who tell the truth we sometimes don’t want to hear. Like the voice of a slave girl – or a carpenter’s son. The people of Nazareth weren’t ready to hear about loving enemies, feeding the hungry, caring for the poor, listening to the voices of women and children, or forgiving those who hurt us. Are we?

Did you hear the one about the new minister who came to town – this was in the days before GPS and phones with maps that can direct you to anyplace you need to go. The minister was looking for the post office and when he got where he thought it was, it wasn’t there. A little boy was passing by and so the minister asked if he could tell him how to get to the post office. “Sure,” the boy replied. “It’s just around the corner, over there.” So the minister thanked the boy and then said, “I’m the new pastor at St. Paul’s Church down the street. If you come to the church, I’ll tell you about God and help you learn where God lives.” The boy looked puzzled. “I’m not sure how you can do that. You can’t even find the post office!”

Sometimes we don’t know what we don’t know. So we must listen. Who are the slave girls and the servants in our time? Who are the overlooked voices of reason? Who are the outsiders dismissed as too young, too naïve, or too simple to be worth hearing? So often we ignore the voices we have already labeled as unworthy. We dismiss some as too young, others as too old, others as too ‘out there.’ We do this to every age group, both genders, every religion, every race. [3] Often, before someone opens his or her mouth we have already decided whether we’ll listen. But, as Naaman learned and as the people of Nazareth learned, God has amazing ways of communicating with us. In the end, Naaman shows what made him a great commander. It was not what he did in battle. It was his humility, his willingness to listen – to his wife and her slave, his own servants and God’s prophet.

So, let’s each commit to listen this week to someone we might otherwise dismiss. Let’s listen to a new voice, opinion, or perspective. In the end, just imagine how different the world would be if we committed to do that. We don’t know what happened to the slave girl or to the servants. We only know their voices made a difference. Through them, God offered grace and healing. God offers those gifts still - if we are willing to listen.

As rock guitarist Jim Hendrix said, knowledge speaks but wisdom listens. [4]

[1] 1 Kings 22: 1-40.

[2] From Robert Linthicum’s commentary for the sixth Sunday after Epiphany.

[3] See sermon notes on this text in the September/October 2011 issue of The Clergy Journal,vol. 86, no. 5, pp. 33-34.

[4] http://thinkexist.com/quotes/like/knowledge_speaks-but_wisdom_listens/209999/