Showing posts with label 2 Kings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2 Kings. Show all posts

Sunday, February 15, 2009

"A Story Turned Upside Down" (2 Kings 5:1-14; Luke 4:16-30)

“Gather around, children, and I will tell you one of the old stories.” I imagine that, with words like these, children in ancient Israel would hear the sacred stories as they were passed from one generation to the next.

Each story was important. Each one had a lesson, a meaning. Stories like the creation story taught a lesson about God’s care for the earth and its inhabitants. Stories like the near-sacrifice of Isaac taught a lesson in obedience and faith. Stories like Joseph and his many-colored coat taught a lesson in how God works through all things for good.

And then there’s the story of Naaman, the Aramean commander who had leprosy. What lesson can be found here? What is the meaning of a story like this?

I imagine the ancient storyteller telling the story something like this:

“Gather around, children, and I will tell you one of the old stories. This is the story of Naaman, the commander of the army of the king of Aram. He was a great man, and a mighty warrior; but he suffered from a dreaded skin disease that made him terrible to look at.”

This introduction would have made perfect sense to the children. Naaman was a foreigner, and foreigners were ugly to look at even if their skin was fine. The fact that he would have this dreaded skin disease was only natural.

Well, the storyteller would continue telling this story in much the same way as we heard it read this morning. In the story, when the slave girl mentions that there’s a prophet in Israel, the Israelite children listening to the story would think, “Well, of course there’s a prophet in Israel—where else would a man of God be?”

When Naaman travels to Israel to be healed, the children would smile at one another, happy in the knowledge that they really did live in the promised land. And when Naaman throws his fit, complaining about Elisha and the muddy trickle that the Israelites call a river, pouting like a spoiled NBA star; can you imagine? This mighty warrior & commander, behaving like a spoiled, bratty two year-old? At this, the children listening to the story would laugh out loud, and even the storyteller wouldn’t be able to suppress a smile.

Obviously, Naaman—being an Aramean, a foreigner—didn’t know any better. He was puffed up in pride, but what did he have to be proud of? The rivers of his homeland may have been cool and clear, but in this story, only the Jordan River in Israel had the healing power of God….

Storytellers passed this story down from one generation to the next, and I imagine that it became one of the more humorous stories in their repertoire. Eventually the story was written down—and it continued to be passed down from generation to generation, century after century.
Each time it was told, the children and adults who heard it would agree with its little lessons on pride, and they would laugh at the little leprous commander, this mighty warrior from a foreign land who pouted and threw a temper tantrum before following Elisha’s instructions and being healed by God.

900 years later, the story was still being told.

In a little town called Nazareth, the residents of that village were excited about the return of one of their own, the son of a carpenter who was quickly making a name for himself as a religious teacher. After all, Nazareth didn’t get much respect. It was, in fact, often overlooked; not a destination for anyone, only a place to pass through, and the quicker the better. There are very few mentions of Nazareth in ancient writings, aside from the gospels.

So when Jesus arrived, naturally the whole town was buzzing with excitement. When he entered the synagogue and read from the prophet Isaiah… well, he used to do that all the time when he was growing up, but now, now that he was famous… everyone eagerly watched and listened to him. When he finished reading, everyone was amazed. Some had tears in their eyes.

“Unbelievable!” they cried out. “This is Joseph’s boy, right? Certainly, he’ll do for us the things he’s done elsewhere.”

They were, to be honest, not only proud of Jesus. They were feeling a little possessive of him. They had, after all, trained him and taught him, and that, they believed, did give them a sense of entitlement. No doubt they, as a village, had done something right. They were not only proud of Jesus; they were proud of themselves for having raised him so well. Yes indeed; they were extremely proud of themselves.

But then, Jesus began to preach; and right away, the people of Nazareth could tell that something was wrong. He wasn’t saying what they were expecting him to say. There was no “how wonderful it is to be back home” introduction; no “I’m thankful for the lessons I learned here” monologue, and no “keep up the good work” conclusion.

Instead, he talked about how God’s concern is not limited to one town or village. He talked about how God’s concern extends to foreign lands, and to the foreigners who lived there. He talked about prophets who were sent not to the people of Israel, but to the people of other nations.

He brought up Naaman. Maybe one or two people, knowing the story, started to laugh when they heard Naaman’s name, until they got en elbow jab in their ribcage from the person next to them, someone who could tell that Jesus wasn’t going to tell the story in the same old way.

In Jesus’ telling of the story, Naaman wasn’t the foreigner about whom everyone cracked jokes. The way Jesus described things, Naaman—even though he was a foreigner, and even though there were many lepers right there in Israel—Naaman was the only one healed by the prophet Elisha. A whole bunch of Israelites needed healing, but only “Naaman the Syrian” received healing.

Well, the people of Nazareth had never thought of it that way before; and right away, the people of Nazareth realized that Jesus had turned this story upside down; that he had turned it into a story that challenged their conventional way of thinking. No longer was it a joke that lifted them up and put foreigners down. Now it was a story that told of God’s concern for foreigners and other outsiders.

The way Jesus told this story challenged all of their assumptions. It was very provocative. It made them realize that Jesus wanted them to change; he wanted them to change the way they thought about everything—and they didn’t like it. They didn’t like it one bit.

They realized that Jesus didn’t just turn this story upside down. They realized that he was trying to turn their whole world upside down.

Well, they decided that they just couldn’t have that. It didn’t matter what Jesus said; they weren’t about to change. Just who did he think he was? Nothing but the son of the carpenter.

The crowd went into a rage at the words Jesus spoke. They mobbed Jesus and took him to the edge of town, carrying their torches and pitchforks, I’m sure; but somehow, Jesus escaped, and he left Nazareth, and he never returned there again.

What is it about Jesus? Everything about him is different. Everything he touches gets turned upside down. Nothing is left unchanged.

Old stories are given new meaning when they are told by Jesus. Often, people prefer the old meanings because they are the ones with which they are familiar. Often, they prefer the old meanings, because they themselves helped create those meanings. They interpreted the old stories the way they did, because they wanted to use the old stories to maintain the status quo. They interpreted the stories in ways that justified injustice. They interpreted the stories in ways that benefited them, and belittled others.

So they were willing to overlook certain details in the old stories, details which were incompatible with the lifestyles they were living. After all, it’s much easier to adapt the ancient stories to one’s lifestyle than it is to transform one’s lifestyle so that it is aligned with the lessons in the ancient stories.

Jesus truly does call us to a new way of living. No one who follows the way of Jesus is left unchanged. For those who follow Jesus, much in this world seems upside down, as if it is a different world entirely from the world God would have us live in. That’s why Jesus came proclaiming a new world, a new kingdom—not some heaven up in the clouds, but a new world that is possible right here—a new way of living that is possible right now.

The stories of Jesus describe this new world. It is a world of turning the other cheek. It is a world of walking the extra mile. It is a world of loving one’s enemies. That is upside down from the world as we know it. Our world’s leaders cannot even imagine governing by the ways of this new world, this new kingdom. Just last week, former Vice President Dick Cheney said in an interview that our nation’s enemies are “evil people, and we’re not going to win our fight against them by turning the other cheek.” And in his book The Audacity of Hope, President Obama admitted that the Department of Defense is incompatible with the Beatitudes. That certainly doesn’t mean that he has plans to get rid of it. But it does show how the world Jesus proclaims is upside down from the world in which we live.

The stories and teachings of Jesus are, of course, central to our faith as Christians. They are, for us, the old stories which form the foundation of our faith. If we are open to the Spirit as we read these stories, we will find them every bit as provocative and even earth-shattering as the story of Naaman was to the people of Nazareth. The stories really do have the power to turn our world upside down. Hopefully, instead of seeking to throw these stories and the one who told them off a cliff, we will listen to them and let them transform us.

That is our challenge; but it is also a great joy, because the new world Jesus proclaims is a world of abundance, generosity, love, and hope. It is a world of dignity and equality for all. It is a world of welcome and affirmation and beauty. It is the kingdom of God.

“Gather around, children, and I will tell you one of the old stories. As you listen, be aware of the Spirit’s presence, the Spirit that brings new meaning to these stories. It’s possible that what this story means to this generation will be something new from what it has meant to generations past. It is even possible that the meaning of the story will change everything, that it will, in fact, transform your life. So watch out! It just may be that everything you’ve known is about to be turned upside down…”