Slaves and servants – the ones who are supposed to be invisible – step into the spotlight for a brief moment in this story from Kings. But first, let’s talk about Naaman.
Naaman is a great man in the land of Aram; a commander of the king’s army. He is high up on the pyramid. He is respected by all. Everything about Naaman’s life is great, except that he suffers from leprosy. Then one day he learns from an Israelite slave girl about a prophet who can cure him.
Naaman knows nothing about prophets, but he knows how to get things done. Naaman is an organization man, so he does what organization men do. He goes up the chain of command.
He tells his king about the prophet who can cure him. The king of Aram writes an official letter, on official letterhead, to the king of Israel. He sends Naaman off with the letter – and horses and chariots, and ten talents of silver, and six thousand shekels of gold, and ten changes of clothing. It goes without saying that an entourage of servants also went along with Naaman, in order to carry all his baggage. Naaman had a lot of baggage.
When he arrived in Israel he went directly to the king with the letter of introduction from his king, just like a royal ambassador.
The king of Israel received his letter and read it. “Dear King of Israel, please cure my loyal servant Naaman of his leprosy. Yours Truly, King of Aram.”
And the king of Israel flips out. “What? Who am I? God? I can work such miracles? Is the king of Aram trying to start a war with me?”
The prophet himself, Elisha, the one who can cure Naaman of his leprosy, seems to be forgotten. But Elisha gets word of the drama in the royal palace and sends his own letter to the king of Israel. “Dear King, chill out. Send this guy to me. I can take care of him.”
So Naaman and his horses and chariots and luggage and footmen all change course and head toward Elisha’s house. When they arrive, Elisha sends a servant out to meet them with instructions. Go and wash yourself seven times in the Jordan River and you will be healed.
Imagine Naaman’s disappointment.
He went to a lot of trouble and expected more attention than this. The prophet, himself, didn’t even come out to greet him. He never got an opportunity to present all his gifts. There was no one there to impress with his power and wealth. Yes, Naaman came to Israel to be healed of his affliction, but he seemed to expect and want more.
There should have been some pageantry. Speechifying, arm-waving, maybe a light show. There should have been an audience to take it all in, applauding the great men doing their thing. Naaman was a great man, don’t forget. He didn’t come all this way just to dip his wrecked body in a pathetic little stream.
A man of Naaman’s position expects certain things; he has earned the right to expect certain things. But Naaman’s expectations are a little too rigid, a little too narrow and confining for the God of Israel – the God who moves freely and, sometimes, undercover.
This is a message with particular resonance for the church today. We expect certain things. We’ve been doing this for a long time and we’ve got it all pretty well organized: denominations, presbyteries, congregations, committees, and so on. We excel at order.
But our love of order can be an obstacle for us. Our expectations can become too rigid, too narrow, like Naaman. We might assume that, because we have been doing this for so long, we have the right to our expectations, like Naaman. But you see where his expectations got him? Going the wrong way. Naaman would have missed his chance at the cure if not for the invisible ones – the slave girl and his servants. At every critical juncture, they pointed Naaman in the direction of healing.
God was working through those invisible ones, the ones that people like Naaman would not normally turn to for guidance.
Who are the invisible ones we need to listen to? Where are the outsiders who might point us in the direction of God’s healing work in the world? Where and among whom is God moving in the world? This is essential for us to contemplate. If we don’t keep up with God’s movement in the world, then we will stop being a part of God’s healing work in the world. While we were tending to our order, our power structures and finances and property, God moved.
I do not mean to say that God has left us. But God does not sit complacently, waiting for us to do something new, either. God is the Lord of this entire world – all of it. This means God is free to go anywhere God chooses.
So I read with great interest this week about a new movement called Civic Saturdays. People gather together in a public location – a library, a small business, or a town square. This is what they do:
They sing together. They talk to one another. They listen to readings, followed by a sermon that ties together the readings and important issues of the world we are living in. Then they sing some more before they are sent out into the world to make a difference. Does any of this sound familiar?
People are looking for healing, and they are ready to be a part of this healing work wherever they can find it. Civic Saturdays offer people a chance to do this.
People are looking for meaning; they hunger for community and spiritual connection with others. These folks may or may not go to church on Sundays, but on Saturdays they are coming together for the sake of the healing of our world.
They are ordinary people with ordinary human needs – to love and be loved, to contribute and care. Just like us.
We all play a part in God’s undercover work in the world. Even if we don’t recognize it as such. Other people – outside the church’s structures and organizations – are playing a part in God’s undercover work in the world. Even if they don’t recognize it as such.
Isn’t it time to build some bridges so maybe we can work together?
