Last month I was in New Orleans for a conference for clergy who serve in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). Ginger came, too; and while we were planning our trip, she said, “You know, Carnival cruise ships have trips out of New Orleans.”
Well, I didn’t know; but since Ginger works for Carnival, she knew, and she is able to find really good rates; so we booked a cruise that departed two days after the conference.
So there I was on the cruise ship, sailing down the Mississippi River. The river continues south for over 100 miles before it reaches the Gulf of Mexico.
If you’ve never seen rivers outside of California, let me just say: the Mississippi River is big. Big enough for a cruise ship. Big enough for several cruise ships to pass each other, with plenty of room to spare.
One of my favorite things of the whole cruise was just gazing at the riverbank as we passed by, and watching the other ships pass by as we made our way down the river.
Having been born and raised here in southern California, I’m not used to seeing rivers like that.
Most of our rivers here in California, the ones that flow down from the San Gabriel mountains and the San Bernardino mountains: you’re lucky if you can float down them in a kayak or on an inner tube!
The rivers in Israel and Syria are similar to the rivers we have here in southern California. They aren’t very big. They aren’t very long. They flow through areas that don’t get much rain. And these days, they are subject to pollution, and decreased water flows due to climate change and diversion for cities and agriculture.
The biggest river in Syria is what the Bible calls the Abana River, but which today is called the Barada River. It’s one of those rivers that Naaman mentions in today’s scripture. It is a nice river. It flows right through Damascus. But it’s not a big river. It flows east from Damascus to a lake, and that lake sometimes disappears entirely because of drought.
Even smaller than the Abana River is the Jordan River. The Jordan River flows into the Dead Sea which today is also shrinking due to climate change and diversion. I read once that more ink has been spilt to describe the Jordan River than there is water flowing in it.
While researching for this sermon I came across a picture of Pope Francis standing next to the Jordan River, which wasn’t much more than a muddy trough.
No wonder Naaman was not impressed. The Pope was trying to look impressed, but I think even in his eyes one could see some disappointment. It’s as if he was thinking to himself: This is it?
However, rivers - like people - do not have to be mighty to be significant. The Jordan River may be small in size, but it is big in significance. God often chooses what is small, what is weak, what the world considers insignificant.
...just like when God sent the prophet Samuel to choose a new king from among the sons of Jesse. Samuel had what he thought were all of Jesse’s sons lined up; there were seven of them. And when he saw Eliab, Samuel was impressed. He thought to himself, “this man looks like a king. He’s gotta be the one.”
But God said, “Nope!”
And God said to Samuel, “Have no regard for his appearance or stature, because I haven’t selected him. God doesn’t look at things like humans do.”
So Samuel went down the line.
Was it Abinadab? Nope.
Was it Shammah? Nope.
Samuel examined seven of Jesse’s sons - what he thought were all of Jesse’s sons - and none of them was the one God had chosen.
But there was an eighth son. David was the youngest, the smallest, the puniest, and wasn’t even brought out for Samuel to look at. No one expected David to be king.
But when David was sent for, and when he finally arrived, God said, “Yep. That’s him. He’s the one.”
The Abana River wasn’t very big; but it was still bigger and more impressive than the Jordan. Naaman looked at the Jordan River the way people looked at David. And Naaman couldn’t imagine that the healing he sought could be found at this muddy little creek.
So when the prophet Elisha told Naaman to go wash in the Jordan River in order to be healed of his skin disease, Naaman couldn’t believe it. The Jordan River! It’s not even as good as the Abana, or the Pharpar, which is another river in Damascus.
Why should he travel all the way to the Jordan River when there were better rivers nearby, in his country of Syria?
But, when you think about it, the Jordan River really wasn’t that far away; and how hard is it, really, to simply wash yourself in the river? “Wash and be clean.” That’s what the prophet said. It’s simple! It’s not worth getting all upset over.
But Naaman threw a fit. He went berserk. And he refused.
Fortunately, his servants knew how to talk some sense into him. “It’s a simple thing,” they said. “What have you got to lose? Just wash… and be clean.”
In pondering all this, my focus has been drawn to that phrase, just wash. That word, just, can mean a number of things.
Most obviously, it implies that the act of washing is a simple thing. It’s not difficult. It doesn’t take much effort. Just wash.
That word just can also imply some impatience on the part of the one speaking - in this case, the servants. “Just wash, already! Geez! It’s not that hard!”
Don’t we use the word just that way, sometimes? Come on, just do it!
There’s a third meaning of the word just, which draws from its relationship to the word justice. Something that is just is something that is right. Something that is fair. Something that is good.
The way God thinks, things are just when the poor and the meek are lifted up; when what is thought to be insignificant becomes the most important thing of all. “The first shall be last, the last shall be first.” “The meek shall inherit the earth.”
God gives attention not to the biggest, mightiest nations, but those that have been reduced to a remnant.
That is what is just in the eyes of God.
So it could be that the Jordan River symbolized greater justice than the more mighty rivers of Syria… and to wash in the Jordan River was a just wash.
And for Naaman, who the Bible describes as a “great man,” and a “victorious commander,” it could be that what is “just” is an act of humility. To wash himself in the Jordan River, he would have to go himself - he couldn’t send a servant to do this for him. And he would have to submit to the waters of the lowly, unimpressive Jordan River.
And that would be a just wash.
As I thought further about all this, a comparison was revealed to me between the simple, just act of washing in the Jordan River, and something we all have been asked to do at various times over the past few years - an act that is quite simple, yet - like Naaman washing in the Jordan - it’s an act that can also bring healing, not just to one person, but to many.
I’m talking about wearing masks.
Before most people were vaccinated, wearing masks was stressed as super-important, because it effectively slowed the spread of the coronavirus.
Then the vaccinations became available, and many people have been vaccinated, and now we don’t have to wear masks in most settings - although sometimes we are still asked to wear masks.
And both of those things - wearing masks, and getting vaccinated - are simple things. Yet they are both things that some people have thrown huge fits over - especially wearing masks.
And our public servants have said to these modern-day Naamans: “Just wear the mask. It’s not a difficult thing that is being asked of you.”
And all three ways of using that word, just, apply here.
Just wear the mask - it’s simple, it’s easy.
Just wear it already! We’re getting impatient with your hissy fit!
And wearing a mask is just. It helps protect those who are most vulnerable. It helps protect the weak. It is right and it is good.
So even though we’re not asked very often now to wear masks, we shouldn’t hesitate to wear one when asked.
Just wear the mask.
Wearing the mask is just.
Just wash, and be clean.
The truth is, there are a lot of simple things we can do that can help restore us to health; things that can make us whole; things that can help restore our neighbors to health and help make them whole.
And a lot of those things only require a little effort on our part.
And yet, sometimes it’s the little things, the simple things, that we refuse to do.
Is it because we are insulted by being asked to perform a simple, humble task? Is it that we feel we are too important to lower ourselves and submit to that request?
How often does pride get in the way? Naaman’s pride got in the way of his own healing, and almost prevented that healing from happening. First, he was upset that the prophet sent a message to him, rather than come to him in-person. Then, when told to go to the Jordan River, Naaman’s pride was hurt further since he would have preferred to wash in the (slightly) more impressive rivers of his own country.
How often do we consider ourselves too proud to be counted among those we consider below us?
Another simple thing we can do that would make a world of difference in helping some people feel whole and seen is to normalize the sharing of pronouns. We’ve been doing that here at Bixby Knolls Christian Church. And maybe it seems silly to some of us; it seems like we’re saying something that doesn’t need to be said.
But for some people, it is a sign that this is a safe space. There aren’t a lot of safe spaces in the world, and we want this to be one of them.
Some people throw a fit over pronouns. Ted Cruz recently mocked people who mention their pronouns by saying, “I’m Ted Cruz, and my pronouns are kiss my ass.”
That’s a real Naaman-level hissy fit right there - getting that worked up over something that, let’s face it, requires very little effort. It’s such a simple, easy thing. If only he had some people to advise him, like Naaman did; to say to him, “It’s not that big of a deal. Just do it.”
Just use the pronouns.
Just wear the mask.
Just wash.
Such simple, easy things.
Yet what power these simple acts have to heal and to restore.
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