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First, let me introduce General Namaan. He commands the King of
Aram’s army. We are told that he is mighty warrior and a great
favorite of the King. He was a national hero. His chest is
decorated with medals. His home is filled with luxuries, the
spoils of war.
The other powerful person we meet in the first verse is the
King of Aram himself. No one in the kingdom is more powerful
than the King. He comes from old money and entrenched power. He
is the connection that gives Namaan power. He’s there to make
grants and cosign his loans. Namaan has power because he is
plugged into the King.
The next verse ushers in a third person, a little girl,
someone with no power at all. She has no title or name. This
third person is virtually a non-person to those around her.
First off, she is a child. Back then, children were at the
bottom. Back then, the word for child and the word for servant
was one and the same. A recent article in the NY Times cites a
study showing that the most likely person to become homeless in
NYC today is a poor African American child younger than 5. The
same study shows that due to increased demand for urban housing
by those single adults who can pay high rents, homelessness is
spreading to more and more low-income families who can’t compete
in the housing market. This is creating a situation where one
out of every three African American children born poor in
America’s largest cities will stay in a homeless shelter before
they enter the first grade. In Africa, things are exponentially
worse with around 13 million children orphaned by AIDS. 13
million, and and how many can we name? Maybe things haven’t
changed all that much for some children since the nameless child
was taken captive in 2 Kings.
In addition to being a child, she’s a girl, owned but unable
to own property, spoken for, but unable to speak in a court of
justice. Even in her place of worship, she must sit in a
separate area, far from the action, in the back of the spiritual
bus. So this female child come among us today is doubly
powerless. But that is not all. She is also a war victim, torn
from her family and forced into slavery in a foreign country
with foreign gods and a foreign language. And there seems to be
nothing she can do about it. She has no social power. No
economic power. No political power.No access to the official
center of spiritual power. She is part of General Namaan’s war
booty brought home to enhance his upwardly mobile lifestyle, a
new maid for the wife.
Now If anyone would need a rebirth it would be this little
girl - poor, captive and undocumented. It would be different if
she had been reborn with a different gender, to a different
family in a different zip code with a different inheritance.
Without that rebirth, no matter how hard she works for the
General , she can never earn her freedom. She’s trapped with no
way out. Nobody knows the trouble she’s seen. Nobody knows the
plight of this motherless child. Nobody even knows her name.
Looking at these three folks - General Namaan, the King of
Aram and the child, we might say that Namaan and the King
represent those who have and the child represents those who have
not. They are the conquerors and she is the conquered. They have
connections and resources and she does not. The have power and
she does not. They have wealth and she does not. They have names
and she does not. She needs a rebirth and they do not...
...not... here everything breaks down. Here the way we like to
divide things up falls apart. Here the way we tend to categorize
one another and put this group here and that group there, this
congregation in this category and that one in another, this
church at risk... wealthy suburban churches are usually not the
ones considered at risk...at least for us Lutherans... well
right here it all falls apart. Sure the child needs a rebirth,
desperately, she surely does, she needs freedom from her
captivity, she needs release from her bondage...but so does
Namaan. The very verse that ushers in Namaan in all his power
and glory and might, also reminds us that these things are not
without major limitations. Beneath the shiny medals on his
chest, under the rich fabric of his elegant suits, Namaan
suffers from a skin disease, probably leprosy, a skin disease
that no one knows how to cure. Namaan’s wallet is thick but his
prognosis is poor... General Namaan the conqueror is captive to
his condition too.
And a horrible condition it is - a systemic disease borne in
the blood spreading to the internal organs, deep-seated in the
bones, joints and marrow resulting in the deterioration of
tissues between bones, causing deformity, the wasting away of
muscles, loss of feeling in fingers and toes, hands and feet.
Evidently the disease had not progressed to this point in
Namaan’s case, but he knew where it was going. Namaan had a skin
disease that was more than skin deep. And you know... When I
read that the most likely person to become homeless in NYC is a
poor Black child ... when we consider that one out of every
three Black children born poor in America’s largest cities will
stay in a homeless shelter before they enter the first
grade...that substandard health care and education affect
overwhelmingly children of color in our cities...well... In my
neighborhood, now in Manhattan Valley on the Upper West Side,
why is it that the housing project on one side of the street is
filled with people of one complexion and the upper middle class
housing on the other side of the street is filled with people of
another complexion and everyone here can guess which is which?
Why is it that in the housing on one side of the street, the
ventilation system has not been cleaned in over 50 years and
children are suffering with asthma in record numbers and you can
guess which side of the street that is... and when our own
national church demographic reflects the skin tone of those on
the wealthier side of the street,
.then I’d say that we have a skin disease too. Now I’m speaking
as a Lutheran here, but perhaps you know what I’m talking about
out...Like General Naaman we have a skin disease. We don’t call
it leprosy We call it racism and like leprosy, it’s systemic. It
infects internal organs, it causes deterioration in the tissue
of our common life, the wasting away of muscles, the loss of
feeling, and even with the full weight of our best intentions
and efforts, we can’t purge ourselves from it. We have a
systemic disease that disfigures our beauty and deteriorates
life together. It’s not just racism. It’s class prejudice,
homophobia. It’s name is legion. It’s name, speaking as a
Lutheran here, is sin.
Let’s go back to Namaan. He has this horrible disease and
needs a rebirth. Business as usual won’t work. None of his
connections to the rich and famous make any difference. The King
of Aram can cosign loans and issue grants, but he can’t cure
leprosy. There is only one connection that can help. One that
Namaan has never taken seriously. One in his own household,
never seen or treated as an equal. I don’t know, but I imagine
that Namaan was likely a kind master to this child. He probably
gave her used clothes and leftover food, furniture and bedding,
a small allowance when he was in a generous mood, a turkey at
Thanksgiving, toys and candy at Christmas. Maybe even sent her
to summer camp. But he didn’t really consider that she might
have anything much of value to offer him other than maid
service. After all, she’s the one without connections. She’s the
motherless child and nobody even knows her name.
Did I say nobody? Well there was Somebody wasn’t there? There
was that Somebody who knit her together in her mother’s womb.
That Somebody who said: I have seen the misery of my people
I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters, I know
their sufferings and I have come down to deliver them. That
Somebody who stood up in the synagogue and said the Spirit
of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good
news to the poor...to proclaim liberty to the captives...to let
the oppressed go free...that Somebody whose eye is on the
sparrow had an eye on this little girl. And you know, when that
almighty, all merciful Somebody has an eye on you...folk can
call you all kinds of things and it doesn't much matter because
you resist their definitions, you know who you are as a child of
God.
The circumstances of this child’s life were enough to make a
grown person weak. The injustices enacted against her were
enough to break the spirit and shatter the faith of someone much
more mature. But as I said Somebody had an eye on this little
girl and with faith in that Somebody, this little girl found
enough room in her heart to have compassion on Namaan, the very
commander whose armies tore her away from her family and bound
her as a servant to his wife. This child found room in her heart
to care about Namaan’s distress, to worry about Namaan’s misery,
to be concerned about Namaan’s disease, and so she said to her
mistress: ...If only my lord were with the prophet who is in
Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.
The way this story is usually told, the miracle doesn’t come
til the end. The miracle occurs when Namaan is healed. But
that’s not how I read this story. We don’t have to wait for the
end of the story to find a miracle, there’s one right here -
that this little girl finds enough room in her heart to care
about a man it would have been so very easy, so very natural,
for her to despise. But this little girl found it in her heart
to do something supernatural...to meet hatred with love and
violence with non-violent action. This wounded child found it in
her heart to point out the way to Namaan’s healing, to Namaan’s
rebirth.
This child did not define herself by her present
circumstances. She resisted definition as a victim or a slave or
a piece of booty. When God needed a witness, she spoke right up
- not because she was a sweet, submissive servant in Namaan’s
household, oh no! She spoke up because she served a higher power
with a higher purpose. Years before the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther
Kings’s daddy’s daddy’s daddy was ever conceived of, she knew
the truth he so eloquently wrote of in his letter from the
Birmingham Jail: We are caught in an inescapable network of
mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects
one directly affects all indirectly. And so this child
living in poverty sets in motion a series of actions on the
highest level of international government with her words.
The King of Aram sends a letter to the King of Israel
introducing Namaan who takes with him a load of diplomatic gifts
signifying status and wealth - he takes horses and chariots,
silver and gold and ten sets of clothing. Namaan is still
functioning within the system of worldly power plays, leveraging
influence, letters from King to King, man to man, bank to
bank... currying political favor with expensive gifts...
Now at least the King of Israel recognizes that something is
a little off here. I can’t cure Namaan, he says. And then,
Elisha, the prophet of whom the little girl spoke, invites
Namaan to come to him. So off Namaan goes with his horses and
chariots and silver and gold and 10 sets of clothing. 10 sets of
clothing? Did I say that Namaan’s been carrying around 10 sets
of clothing? The man has leprosy and he’s worried about how many
suits he has? Some folks prefer a change of clothes, even 10
changes of clothes, to real rebirth. Change the music, add a few
multicultural songs, change the pictures to add a few
multicultural faces, form a committee (maybe that’s just
Lutherans?) but deep down the systemic disease persists. Well
Namaan expects Elisha to be impressed when he makes such a
commanding appearance. He expects Elisha to give him a big fancy
reception, something to change into one of his 10 sets of
clothes for. But Elisha is coolly unimpressed by all that pomp.
Elisha simply sends a messenger to Namaan telling him that if he
wants to be healed he should go down to the Jordan River, take
off his expensive clothes and wash himself 7 times.
The General is outraged! The prophet has dissed him. Elisha
should have come out personally and waved his hand over the spot
to cure the leprosy, not send some loser messenger telling him
to go wash in some river, some little old muddy Jordan river -
Why the distant rivers of Namaan’s homeland were renowned for
their crystal clear waters... Some folks, like Namaan, prefer a
distant river. Sometimes rebirth looks clearer from a distance.
Sometimes it’s easier to write a check and send it to help some
ministry somewhere else then welcome our own neighbors with
different backgrounds. Sometimes it’s easier to send our youth
on mission trips far away than work on racism and class
prejudices in our own communities. Or is that just a Lutheran
thing??? What the prophet asked Namaan to do was simple, just go
down to the Jordan and wash. But "Are not Arbana and Pharpha,
rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Shall
I not wash in them and be clean? huffs Namaan. No says Elisha.
You are not the general in this battle. You are not the
strategist. You are not setting the agenda. You don’t get to
choose the location. In fact, you need a little dislocation,
Naaman, you need to come down off your high horse! In order for
Namaan to be released, revived and reborn, there need to be some
reversals here from the one who brings the powerful down from
their thrones and lifts up the lowly. That’s why the servants
are the ones giving the orders and urging Namaan to strip off
his outer garments, including the layers of prideful resistance
and reluctance, and go down naked to wash in the river.
So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the
Jordan. You know..I believe that the healing began before
Namaan even felt the Jordan’s water caress his wounded body. I
believe that the healing began as soon as he took those first
hesitant, humbling steps towards the river. So he went down
and immersed himself ...is that not what we are called to
do...immerse ourselves in our communities, in the reality of our
sisters and brothers, with all of the conflicts and confusion,
the humbling recognition of our own ignorance at times and need
for direction, the joys and disappointments, the injustices and
the victories... thus Namaan went down and immersed himself...7
times.7 - the number of creation complete and whole, 7 the
number of sabbath, 7 the number of jubilee, every 7 sabbaths.
So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the
Jordan and Namaan found his jubilee.
His flesh became clean once more like the flesh of a
little child... Now Namaan is like a child. Namaan is
reborn. Like the little girl, Namaan is now connected to the
true source of power. Not power from the throne of Aram, but
power bringing transformation and rebirth through connection
with one who seemed to have nothing to offer, a child in
poverty, a child who showed herself to be a mighty warrior
resisting and rising above all the injustices that could have
crushed her capacity to love but didn’t.
That’s about it...we’re almost done...But you know, for me,
there are still a few loose ends here in the story. What about
the child’s own freedom and future? Well, there’s still some
work to do. We’re not finished yet. And as you go about your
work in the days ahead, it is good to remember that to the
extent that you connect yourselves with the child in this story,
with those whom the world perceives as offering the least, you
hold the power for rebirth in your church. You are not the
beggars on the fringe. You are not the ones most at risk...you
have the power for resistance and rebirth, not just for
yourselves, but for your larger church, for our shared future.
The other loose end for me is that little girl’s name. We
still don’t know it. But perhaps that’s so we can locate her
name around us. I found her in Danielle and it is with Danielle
that I will conclude:
I wish some of the folks who work on Wall Street could sit at
the table and have lunch with Danielle. Her mother, Deena, died
from an asthma attack brought on by smoking crack. She’s ten and
has eleven sisters and brothers. Some are older and on their
own, and some of them went to live with a relative down South.
That left five parentless children in the home. An uncle, known
to be a compulsive gambler, moved in. Rumor had it that his main
interest was in using the children to get money for his habit. I
don’t know if that is true, but there’s little affection or
attention shown to the children at home, except what they offer
each other, which is considerable. Three of the youngest were in
our summer program.
One hot day when a swimming trip was planned for the
afternoon. Danielle was brought to my office in tears. It turned
out that she didn’t own a bathing suit. We decided that it would
be all right to skip the morning math lesson and go out to get a
suit. The trip took us out over lunchtime, and so we stopped at
a nearby McDonald’s, where Danielle ordered a Happy Meal. She
got up and came back with some extra napkins. Then she began
divvying up the small bag of fries into five little piles, each
on its own napkin. I asked her what she was doing. “My sisters
and brothers will feel sad that I got french fries and they
didn’t,” she explained “I’m taking them home to share.” Sitting
there in McDonald’s with Danielle, I felt rich. (from
Breathing Space: A Spiritual Journey in the South Bronx) |
