Go Jump In A River

(Scriptures: 2 Kings 5:1-14 Galatians 6:1-16
Luke 10:1-11, 16-20)

Today we celebrate July 4, Independence Day, the day on which we declared independence from England. The colonists came to America for a variety of reasons – religious liberty, economics, freedom of expression. Of course, there are people who came to America from Africa against their will, and people who were already here who were forced to move elsewhere.

We’ve come a long way in 234 years. We’re no longer a recently-liberated colony of England, with folks like Washington and Jefferson and Ben Franklin walking the streets of Philadelphia in colonial garb – though you can find their stand-ins walking around Independence Mall, posing for the tourists. We’ve come up in the world over the past couple centuries. With the fall of the Soviet Union, we’re now the world’s remaining superpower, and our involvement is expected in any act of international diplomacy or the creation of any sort of international consensus – we see ourselves as the indispensable nation. In many ways, we’re not entirely unlike the Roman empire at the time of Christ – while we don’t actually name many places as colonies, by virtue of economic and political power we can exert strong pressure on nominally independent allies to do our bidding. We take national pride in throwing our weight around. All of this comes under the title of privilege, of feeling entitled to a certain amount of respect because of our position. But while privilege has its advantages, it also comes with occupational hazards. One of these occupational hazards is a sort of acquired deafness, when we can feel too important – too entitled - to take other peoples’ views into account.

We encounter this kind of acquired deafness, this unwillingness to listen to others, in our Old Testament reading today. Naaman was a commander of the Aramean king. While very powerful, he struggled with a great hardship – he had leprosy, which distanced him from others who did not want to expose themselves to contact. A young Israelite girl, captured in one of Naaman’s raids, served Naaman’s wife. The girl told her mistress that there was a prophet in Israel who could cure Naaman’s leprosy. The wife told Naaman, and Naaman told the Aramean king – who sent a letter to the king of Israel, accompanied by many gifts, informing him that he was sending his commander, Naaman, so that the Israelite king could cure him of his leprosy. He didn’t want to be bothered dealing directly with the prophet….he figured he’d send a diplomatic message to the Israelite king and let the Israelite king work out the details. Of course, the king of Israel was completely blindsided by the message from the Aramean king – “let’s get this straight…first the Aramean king sends Naaman to fight against me, and now I’m supposed to cure Naaman’s leprosy? Hello?” Elisha gets word of the Israelite king’s predicament and rescues the situation, giving word that Naaman should visit him. So Naaman comes to Elisha’s house – “with his horses and chariots”, we’re told, no doubt decked out in all his official glory. But Elisha can’t even be bothered to leave the house – in fairness, it’s possible Elisha himself wanted to avoid contact with Naaman’s leprosy - but instead sends a messenger to Naaman, saying, “Go wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh will be restored, and you will be made clean.”

But here’s where Naaman’s privilege, as a result of his status, rendered him deaf to Elisha’s instructions. It wasn’t good enough that Elisha leave instructions for his cure – no, Naaman had very specific ideas about what the cure should look like – Elisha should wave his hand over the leprosy and call on the name of the Lord for Naaman’s healing. Or if that’s too much, would it have killed Elisha to at least come out and meet Naaman? And so Naaman felt snubbed, and stomped off in a huff. Fortunately for Naaman, his servants were able to calm him down and talk some sense into him. They were able to tell Naaman to get past his hurt feelings, to get over himself. Naaman did as Elisha instructed, and was cured.

Get over yourself, Naaman! Get over yourself! They can be hard words to hear – but sometimes words we need to hear, in order for our ears to be open to God’s call and for our spirits to be open to the healing God offers! After all, to ask for God’s healing is to admit that we are sick, physically, mentally, spiritually; to ask for God’s strength is to admit the limits of our own, to admit our weakness. To ask for God’s guidance is to admit that we’ve lost our way. And so it takes humility to call on God – and maybe our brothers and sisters in Christ - for help. We cannot call for help from God or neighbor until we get over ourselves.

Get over yourself! On this Independence Day, when we remember the time of our founding and consider who we were, and who we are, and who we aspire to be, perhaps as a nation we may sometimes need to heed this message. We think that with our military might, with our technological know-how, with our wealth, there is no end to what we can accomplish, no end to what we can control. There are voices from the sidelines, telling us otherwise, telling us that we need to change – that we cannot drill and bomb and spend and pollute in the future as we have in the past, that the damage done to the environment is as widespread as Naaman’s leprosy – and every bit as ugly, as pictures from the oil leak in the gulf remind us - that we need to use our vaunted Yankee ingenuity to learn new ways to do things, to be faithful stewards of the planet God has given us. Many of these voices from the sidelines are voices of faith. The United Church of Christ and other mainline churches have been proclaiming such things for a long time, as has the Roman Catholic church, but more recently even in conservative evangelical circles, there is an increasing consensus that God calls us to take loving care of nature instead of fouling our own nest, that having dominion over the earth doesn’t mean trashing it beyond recognition. But in our national pride, these voices get blocked out, and our national leaders stomp off in a huff. We are America, one country, indivisible – but we are not masters of the universe. Almighty God already has that position filled. Even as we celebrate the 234 years since we declared political independence from England, we need to remember our interdependence with all of humanity and with creation, and especially our utter dependence on God.

We can do this as individuals as well. In a few moments we will be celebrating Holy Communion, eating and drinking in remembrance of Christ, who died that we may live. We will come to the altar rail, together, as Christ’s body gathered here at Emanuel Church. In preparation for breaking bread and drinking wine together in remembrance of Christ, we will join in the prayer of confession. I would invite us, as we join in prayer, to look at our lives over the past day, over the past week, over the past month, to consider those moments when real or perceived snubs to our injured pride have caused us to hold a grudge, or lash out in anger at a neighbor – and to allow the cleansing waters of God’s love to wash this bitterness away, to let go of all that separates us from God and neighbor, and let God restore our spirits. As we hear the assurance of pardon for our own sins, may we likewise pardon those who have sinned against us; as God forgives our debts, may we forgive our debtors.

The old Shaker hymn proclaims:
'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
On this day in which our nation celebrates its freedom, may we celebrate a very different freedom – the simple gift of the freedom of the Spirit that Christ offers. Amen.
*********
Please join us at Emanuel United Church of Christ (on Fillmore St, just off Thompson) on Sundays at 10 a.m. www.emanuelphila.org )