My "first" sermon at Grace

This is the sermon I preached at Grace on 2/15/2009
It is the first time I preached as a seminarian and the 2nd sermon ever.
(I "preached" once at Grace about 8 years ago--when we were about 60 members large and still meeting in the garage of the church house. Actually, I read a great children's book and talked about how it's main character, a young boy taking care of sheep, was a metaphor for God taking care of us.)

Lectionary reading for this Sunday was:
Old Testament Reading II Kings 5: 1 - 14
New Testament Reading Mark 1: 40 - 45

I remember, as a child, hearing this story about Naaman. I liked it then, and why not? It has water (and back then, I loved swimming); it has a miracle healing, and it has a young heroine--the young girl servant from Israel. We don’t know her name, and she’s in the story only briefly, yet she plays a crucial role in this story. It is she who calls attention to Naaman’s problem-- speaking the words that identify his skin disease--and it is she who directs Naaman to the solution--he can be healed by the prophet in Israel’s capital, Samaria. She says, “If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria. He would cure him of his leprosy.” Do you hear the faith and certainty her voice?
Heeding his servant girl's advice, Naaman goes to Israel, looking for the prophet--seeking the cure. Ultimately, he arrives at Elisha’s place. Now Elisha does not even come out to meet Naaman, but sends a message to him--take 7 dips in the Jordan River "and your flesh will be restored, and you shall be clean." At first, Naaman refuses. How dare Elisha not even come out to meet him--he, Naaman, the great general of the mighty and victorious army of Aram. And how dare Elisha send him instructions to go bathe in some dirty Hebrew river. A great commander like himself should be the recipient of some lavish healing ceremony, presided over by the prophet himself. Ah, now we see that perhaps Naaman suffers from 2 diseases: the skin disease--leprosy, and the soul disease--pride. He is about to storm off because his pride has been offended. It's as if his sense of entitlement is blinding him and paralyzing him. He no longer recognizes his need for healing and he's stopped in his tracks--no longer moving toward the one who can heal him.
Has this ever happened with you? Have you ever let something come between you and the one who can heal you? Have you ever let pride or guilt or shame cut you off from our God who is always seeking relationship with you, our God who is always seeking to heal you of your broken-ness, our God who is always seeking to cleanse you?

The writer of a devotion I read this week says because Naaman "had already decided for himself how his healing should take place, he came very close to missing out on his healing altogether.” It’s like saying, “God, I have a better idea about how to solve my problem. I realize you are all-knowing and can see the big picture, while I am aware of only that which is around me---and not even all of that. But, my idea---is better than yours. Let's handle my concerns about my grade, about my class, about my boyfriend, about my girlfriend, about my job, about my health, about my marriage . . . Let's handle my concerns my way.
Naaman is about to storm off--and not be healed--when another servant speaks up. “Father, 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?’” Did you notice how the servant addressed Naaman as “Father”--instead of “Lord” or “Master”? He diverts Naaman’s thoughts from his greatness by referring to him using a family term. This family language, "father" makes me think of relationship. Approaching concerns with my pride leading me, with an attitude of entitlement, is not going to foster relationship with those I find myself in conflict with. And relationship, particularly loving relationship, is what God is all about.




Naaman's servant calls Naaman back to the reality of his sickness by using relationship language. Naaman reconsiders his decision to storm off, and makes his way to the Jordan River where he dips 7 times. He goes under the water. He has to stoop. He has to bow down. He has to crouch real low to get completely submerged. He probably scrapes his knees. He probably gets silt all over himself. 7 times--and each time he goes under the water, he sheds a little more of his pride. When he finally emerges from the river, he is healed. The scripture reads, “His flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.”
Naaman was healed in two different ways. Not only was his skin healed, but also his soul was healed--when he shed his pride and put on humility. When he accepted God’s solution (dip in the Jordan River 7 times), he got the healing he really needed--release from the chains of pride, release from the bondage of entitlement. With that healing, the healing of his soul, he could be truly grateful for the other healing--the healing of his leprosy.

The leper in our gospel reading today approached Christ differently from the way Naaman approached Elisha. The gospel says the leper kneeled and begged Christ. His knees were probably scraped, and he probably got dirty as he knelt before Christ, the living water. The leper said, "if you choose, you can make me clean." No "I am entitled to this" attitude. He knows his healing is totally dependent on Christ, entirely dependent on Christ's decision. Interestingly, he says, "you can make me clean." The word translated here as "clean" from the Greek can mean to cleanse as in "to make whole," it can mean to cleanse as in "to heal" or it can mean to cleanse as in "to make ritually clean". It's as if the leper is saying, Jesus, I know it's your choice whether to cleanse me, I know it's your choice how to cleanse me, and I know it's your choice what kind of cleansing to offer me--whether it's physical healing or relational wholeness. And I'm leaving all of that up to you, Jesus. What a contrast from Naaman .



Both this leper and Naaman are thrilled to be healed, and both want and need to express their thankfulness. Like the psalmist we heard earlier today, (Psalm 30: 2-3, 12) they are compelled to praise God. Naaman says “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel.” Mark's gospel tells us that the leper told everyone he met, "he went out and began to proclaim it freely, spreading the word". Each of them knows he has been healed by the grace of God.
It’s only with humility that we can be truly thankful for what we have. It’s only when we acknowledge we deserve nothing from God, that we can recognize the blessings God has bestowed on us as blessings. What good we receive, God gives to us out of love and grace.
This week, I found myself wrestling with this sermon--first wrestling with what to say and then wrestling with how I, too, was suffering from leprosy of the soul. This week, I found myself reacting to situations at school in a prideful manner, approaching issues with an attitude of entitlement. My relationship with God has been rocky this week as I refused to let go of "how I would have handled this," as I refused to stop thinking of "what I'm entitled to." When I finally began to shed my pride, when I finally began to put on humility, I was able not only to see the (many) blessings around me, but also to recognize the obstacles in front of me as opportunities for growth. I'm reminded of H __ C__ saying, "There is no comfort in your growth zone, and there is no growth in your comfort zone." There's a reason for my discomfort right now. God is growing me.
I don’t deserve to go to seminary. It is a gift from God to help me answer my call from God. My experiences at seminary--academic and relational, are opportunities for learning and for growth to prepare me for this call. I don’t deserve Kevin’s love and support--they are gifts from Kevin. I didn’t earn the right to preach here at Grace. This opportunity is a gift from our pastors and from the Session. I haven’t earned your support, your care, or your love. Your open hearts, your smiles, your encouraging words and your prayers are gifts from you. Rising from the cleansing water, I can recognize and appreciate these gifts, these blessings.
Let us pray.