As I explain in the video, I’m not actually preaching this sermon in a church this weekend as it’s unsuitable for a baptism service I’m taking. However, I wanted to keep the series on mission going, using this passage. What follows is actually a sermon I first preached in 2007, as you may guess from some of the examples given.
Introduction
In early 2005, we realised that Debbie’s car, a Peugeot 306, was no longer going to be functional as family car. It was insufficiently like the Tardis to cope with the amount of clutter we needed to cart around with two small children. Through friends and family, we were quickly converted to the virtues of a ‘people-carrier’.
We short-listed three different cars: a Vauxhall Zafira, Renault Scenic and a Citroen Picasso. Despite three recommendations for the Zafira, we eliminated it as too expensive and with too small a boot.
That left the Scenic and the Picasso. For a while, we couldn’t tell the difference between them in appearance, but we settled on the Picasso and once we bought one we found that whenever we were out we were always spotting Picassos on the road. Had they suddenly increased in number once we became interested in them? No; we had simply become more tuned into them.
Sometimes I find reading the Bible is like that. It isn’t until I get interested in a particular issue that I realise how much of the Bible reflects that concern, or is relevant to it.
I had one of those experiences this last week. You will know by now that one of my concerns is how we are faithful Christian witnesses in a society where Christianity is no longer central, but on the margins. We live in a culture whose values have been changing rapidly in recent decades. The Gospel may not change, but many of our old ways of being church have become obsolete.
I have read the story of Naaman and his healing since Sunday School. Perhaps you have, too. However, this week when it came up in the Lectionary I found it was no longer a charming Sunday School story. It was a model for mission in today’s world. I see it, because the story is set in a time when Israel was under the cosh from Aram (verses 1-2). A pagan nation with alien values has mastery over the people of God. Within these strictures, fruitful mission happens – just as it can in our day when forces are pushing the church to the margins of society. This week we saw the church-state ties loosened as Gordon Brown relinquished some powers over the appointment of bishops other senior clergy. It opens up again the whole issue of the Church of England’s established status – and in my Methodist opinion, that’s a good thing.
So in this context, where the church is less central to our society, how does the story of Naaman encourage us in our mission? I find it by exploring the three Israelite characters connected with him: the slave girl, the king of Israel and Elisha.
1. The Slave Girl
How many of us were shocked by the news a couple of days ago that a three-year-old girl was kidnapped in Nigeria? Perhaps we need to think of something like that to understand the horror of what happened when this young girl was taken captive by the Arameans in 2 Kings 5. Granted, she is probably older than three, given the way she speaks, and neither is she being threatened by death. However, if you want a sense of the horror, think Nigeria.
Yet in this situation of trauma and oppression, the young girl is a star:
She said to her mistress, ‘If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.’ (verse 3)
Here is a wounded, marginalised person offering love. Here is one who as both child and female has no status, yet she offers love. Forgiving love and compassion for one who has done wrong to her, her family, her religion and nation. Truly, a little child leads here, as she blesses an enemy.
How does this translate for us? Isn’t one of the dangers of being a minority that has been sidelined more and more that all we want to do is carp and snipe at the society that has done this to us? We criticise this, we declaim about that and we lay into something else. If we’re good, we pretend we are offering a prophetic critique of the world, but if only we were. More likely, we are laying bare the chip on our shoulder and giving energy to the resentment we feel that people no longer see the church as an institution whose opinions should be sought and respected.
The young slave girl says, bless those who have done this to you. Look for ways to love and serve them. Search out opportunities to tell them the good news – not that God can’t wait to singe them in Hell, but that he is crazy with love for them and passionate that they find him.
When I ministered in Kent, there was a branch of Ottakar’s bookshops in Chatham High Street. They regularly displayed and promoted occult books. Alongside the display there was sometimes the opportunity to sign up for occult meetings. I shared this with a prayer meeting. The response was interesting. I thought they would be the kind of Christians who would want to instigate a prayer march against the shop, and perhaps a letter-writing campaign, too. They didn’t. Their immediate response was to pray that God would bless the shop and its employees, because that would be a better way of making a gospel difference.
For us, our ‘Naaman’ might be an unpleasant boss at work. What might happen if we showed Christian love and concern for that boss’s needs and difficulties? Or today’s Naaman could be an unjust political group or multinational corporation. How might we show the love of Christ to them? (And this is the end of International Boycott Nestlé Week!)
I am not saying we should never criticise or boycott, but we have to be sure our motive is God’s love, not vindictiveness. The slave girl reminds us to love and make a difference.
2. The King Of Israel
Naaman goes to his king, who prepares a letter for his opposite number, the king of Israel. Leave aside for a moment the naïveté that assumes the Israelite king can heal the soldier. We have to excuse that as innocent ignorance: it’s something Christians encounter often from people who make requests of them. I often find it comes in terms of expecting that the minister can do something, which another Christian can’t. There is no point in criticising this: we cannot expect complete understanding of our ways.
What is more disappointing is the king of Israel’s response. He doesn’t give a theological lecture – that would be bad enough. Instead, he goes on the defensive:
When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, ‘Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me.’ (verse 7)
The king of Israel cannot see human need for what it is and respond appropriately. It is as if he knows the story of the Trojan Horse and sees Naaman’s illness as the way in which Israel will be further weakened.
Is that so far from some of our responses as a Christian minority today? I don’t think so. There are those who think we shouldn’t support environmental causes, because we become ‘guilty by association’ with some crazy green campaigners who happen to think that planet Earth is actually a goddess named Gaia, and we shouldn’t get our names tarnished by working with such fruitcakes. The fact that there is ample biblical material for being environmentally conscious should be enough: God calls us to be stewards of the earth, not rapists of it.
Alternatively, consider how long it took some Christians to become concerned with fighting HIV/AIDS, because of its association with sexual practices that lie outside traditional Christian morality. Thank God that mentality has changed through the example of organisations like ACET AND TEAR Fund, who hold orthodox Christian beliefs, but are at the forefront of medical prevention and political campaigning.
In a world packed with terrible needs, it would be spiritual suicide to follow the example of the king of Israel. It’s no good getting on our high horse about certain moral evils in our society, but doing nothing to heal the pain.
But let’s bring it close and personal. Who are the people we know, who have made a mess of their lives, perhaps through their own fault, but whom we have been resisting the idea of helping? Is now the time to see that we have made a mistake and need to reach out with Christian compassion? For Debbie and me recently it’s been about being available to two pregnant women: one is living with her partner and already has one child by him, the other had a second child on her own without ongoing involvement from the father of either child. Neither of these women lives lifestyles with which we agree as Christians. However, would it surprise you if I told you that one of these mothers is now asking questions about baptism?
3. Elisha
Surely the story is going to end up with Elisha performing an amazing miracle. It builds up that way. The slave girl calls him ‘the prophet who is in Samaria [who] would cure [Naaman] of his leprosy’ (verse 3). The writer of 2 Kings describes Elisha as ‘the man of God’ (verse 8) and Elisha himself urges the king of Israel to forward Naaman onto him so ‘that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel’ (verse 8).
Therefore, it’s a surprise when Naaman arrives at Elisha’s house and the great man doesn’t come out to greet him, but sends a messenger, telling Naaman to wash seven times in the Jordan (verse 10). What’s going on?
Here’s my theory: Naaman has some kind of superstar complex. He’s miffed that the spiritual hero won’t come out to him (verse 11), and he’s insulted by the thought of washing in that feeble, insignificant river the Jordan. He’s got celebrity rivers back in Damascus – the Abana and the Pharpar (verse 12). So not meeting Elisha and suffering the indignity of the River Jordan force Naaman away from this hero-worship attitude.
And isn’t that just what we need today? We live in a culture that needs to be weaned off celebrity adulation, and where people – ooh, let me think, Chantelle Houghton and Paris Hilton – are merely famous for being famous. So addicted are we to this that an informed politician like Al Gore needs to utilise gas-guzzling pop stars to communicate his planet-saving message. By a conspiracy of insignificant non-celebrity Christians, operating without spin doctors or street teams, armed only with the love of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit, we subvert a sick culture and bring healing in the name of Jesus.
And that means that the church needs to be healed of her own addiction to celebrity, too. We may not have the hype and publicity tools available to entertainers and politicians, but there is an unhealthy reliance upon famous Christians and Christian leaders. We believe, however, in a priesthood of all believers, and so it’s time to stop this dependency upon such people and realise this is a call to all Christians.
In fact, one Christian leader from the Southern Hemisphere, Alan Hirsch, tells a story in his recent book, ‘The Forgotten Ways’ about the early growth of a church he and his wife led in Melbourne. It did not happen under their leadership, but before they arrived. George the Greek was a drug dealer who once chose prison instead of a fine for his crimes. While there he read the Bible and God encountered him. Upon release, George and his brother John set about sharing their faith. Within six months, fifty people had become disciples of Jesus. There were gay men, lesbians, Goths, drug addicts and prostitutes among the converts. No Christian celebrity or authority figure did this: just George the Greek and his brother John, loving people into the kingdom.
Conclusion
Ultimately, this takes us full circle, back to the young slave girl, who blessed her needy, oppressive master. She, Elisha’s messenger and the river Jordan are the heroes of the story. Elisha knows well to get out of the way rather than garner praise for himself; sadly, the king of Israel sets no example at all.
For we who are squeezed daily further to the margins as Christians in our society, the message is clear: a generation of nobodies, operating from the fringes of our culture, is God’s apostolic team for the salvation of the world and the healing of the nations. This morning, as we take Holy Communion, we enlist for that call.
Big Circumstance 
What Do You Think?