I was in boy scouts growing up. Most of our scout outings involved hiking and backpacking, but once or twice while I was a scout, we got a bunch of inner tubes—big, black ones, not the colorful ones you can buy on the toy aisle at Walmart—loaded them up in someone’s cargo trailer, and drove two hours north to the Kern River. And we spent the day tubing down a 6-mile stretch of that river.
It was the closest river to us that had enough water in it, in summer.
The Kern River originates high in the Sierra Nevada among peaks that rise to 14,500 feet. It takes all summer for the snow to melt on those peaks, ensuring that there is water in the river even during the warm, dry summer months.
The water flows down from those mountains, into the San Joaquin Valley, flowing past the city of Bakersfield, with just the right amount of water in it for a great day of tubing.
The Kern River never does make it to the ocean. Historically, it ended at Lake Buena Vista just west of Bakersfield, and Lake Buena Vista has no outlet. All the water either evaporates or seeps into the ground.
Except that, now, the water doesn’t even reach that far. It is diverted for agriculture before it reaches the lake. And Lake Buena Vista has dried up. It no longer exists.
The river—where we went tubing—seemed pretty big to me. Sure, in some places, it was only ankle deep, and we had to lift our butts so they wouldn’t drag on the ground…but that didn’t change the fact that it was (and is) one of the biggest rivers in southern California.
### It’s a lot different from the rivers here in the midwest. The rivers here are BIG. Big enough for ships and barges. Too big (some of them) for tubing.
And the rivers here play vital roles in transportation.
The rivers here inspired the name of our newly formed regional church: “The Living Waters Region.” This is the name of the region that is being formed by the merger of the Illinois/Wisconsin Region, and the Michigan Region.
At last week’s regional assembly, we voted to officially approve this merger. And the litany at our Friday night worship was inspired by the rivers and waterways that surround us.
Using mostly Native American names for these waterways, the litany said that we come from “the waters of the Gichigami, Michigami, Karegnondi, Erielhonan; the Grand, the Muskegon, the Chippewa, the Milwaukee, the Illinois, the Kaskaskia, and the mighty Mississippi… Sources of bounty and beauty, life and fun.”
All these waterways provide pathways of connection. Ships and barges use them to transport vast amounts of cargo. Our region would be a lot different without these waterways.
In Israel & Syria…
### The rivers in Israel and Syria are more like the rivers of California than the rivers of the Midwest. They aren’t very big. They aren’t very long. They flow through areas that don’t get much rain, especially in summer. 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.
The Jordan river is even smaller than the Abana River. Like the Kern River, the Jordan River never reaches the ocean. It flows into the Dead Sea which today is also shrinking due to climate change and diversion.
So why is it that we make such a big deal about the Jordan River? It has become such a powerful symbol and metaphor of so many things. Why is that?
A few of you have been to the Jordan River, seen it with your own eyes. Was it all you expected?
If you were on a tour, you probably went to one of the nicer, more impressive sections of the river. In some years, when there isn’t much rain, parts of the river dry up completely. Wouldn’t that be disappointing, for someone to make a great pilgrimage to the Holy Land, to the Jordan River, just to see nothing but dried up mud? How can one get baptized in a river with no water?
The prophet Elisha told Naaman that he could be healed if he went and washed in the Jordan River.
Naaman knew what the Jordan River was like. The Abana River was closer to home for him, and though it was still small compared to the rivers around here, it did have more water in it than the Jordan did. Why couldn’t he just wash in the Abana? Or in the Pharpar, another river closer to his home?
And why couldn't Elisha have come out to greet Naaman personally? Naaman was a high-ranking official; surely he deserved more than having Elisha send a messenger out to greet him.
Naaman deserved to be greeted personally by Elisha… and he deserved the dignity of being able to wash in the rivers of his own homeland, the Abana or the Pharpar, instead of traveling to the even smaller Jordan in a land that was not his own!
And yet, how difficult would it be to wash in the Jordan River? It was a simple act. It didn’t require much effort.
But unfortunately, Naaman’s ego got in the way.
Traveling to the Jordan River and stepping into the water is easy. Overcoming one’s ego and stubborn pride is much harder.
Last Monday I attended a presentation by Doris Kearns Goodwin, a renowned historian, who spoke at Illinois Wesleyan University. She is a Pulitzer-prize winning author whose work mainly focuses on several highly-regarded U.S. Presidents and what made them such capable leaders.
Speaking Monday night about Abraham Lincoln, she said that Lincoln’s greatest qualities were his humility and his empathy. And she added that these two qualities—humility and empathy—are what we need most in our leaders today.
Naaman struggled with humility. He was proud. Maybe a little arrogant. And he struggled with Elisha’s instruction to go to the Jordan River—as simple as that instruction was.
Fortunately for him, his servants were able to convince him to do what Elisha said. They were able to convince him to put his ego aside, and go wash himself in the Jordan River.
And when he came out of the water, his flesh was restored, and he was healed.
And he seemed to have learned a lesson in humility. He recognized the God of Israel—the God who leads people to and through and beyond the Jordan River—as the one true God, the God who heals, the God who restores people to wholeness.
Maybe humility is why God uses the Jordan River to play such a significant role in the history of God’s people.
The Jordan River is not one of the world’s great rivers. God could have chosen a river like the Mississippi, or the Amazon, or the Nile. What mighty rivers those are!
But God is not interested in might or size.
We are often obsessed with might, or with size! The bigger and more powerful something is, the better!
But God is not like that…
Even prophets can be tempted by size and power.
When God sent Samuel to choose a new king for Israel from among the sons of Jesse, Samuel had what he thought were all of Jesse’s sons line up; there were seven of them. And when he saw Eliab—the oldest and, I assume, strongest—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 the way 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.”
He wasn’t the biggest or the strongest. He was overlooked by everyone—everyone but God.
Sometimes churches feel that they must be the biggest or the strongest, in order to make a difference. Pastors can’t help but feel at least a little envious of the bigger church in town, and many church members feel this way, too.
We want our church to be like the Mississippi, or the Amazon, or the Nile: a river that shapes and influences an entire continent.
We aren’t content to be like the Jordan River, or the Kern River.
We like the story of the mustard seed, but in truth, we’re really not content with something so small. We want something bigger.
But God doesn’t look at things the way humans do. And maybe we need to do what Naaman did, and find a way to check our ego, and humble ourselves. Maybe we need to ponder what Micah meant when he said we should walk humbly with God.
To do what God is calling you to do…
To be all that God is calling you to be…
You don’t have to be like anyone else.
You don’t have to be as strong as someone else
You don’t have to be as big as someone else
You don’t have to be as smart or educated as someone else
You just need to be you.
And as we at First Christian Church continue dreaming God’s dream, and figuring out how God wants to use us to spread the gospel of love to the world,
We don’t need to be anything other than who we are.
And the love we share doesn’t need to be expressed in grand, headline-grabbing ways.
Simple acts of kindness are enough.
Learning to love just a little bit more, growing in love just a little bit, day by day, is enough.
And always being humble, recognizing that we cannot do everything, but that we can do something…even if it’s something as small as a mustard seed…
Each and every one of us…
And all of us together.
And, just like the Jordan River, what is small and seemingly insignificant, can—by the grace and power of God—become something that brings hope and healing to the world.
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