Weird Enough? II Kings 5:1-3, 7-15

By David Sund, Lay Preacher

All-mighty and all-loving God, open our eyes to see your hands at work in your Word and in the world around us. Deliver us from the presumption of coming to you for solace only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for renewal. By your gracious Spirit make us one
body in Christ, that we may worthily serve the world in his name.
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As I prepared this sermon I realized that while the settings and frequency very, I’ve been blathering away at lecterns like this for forty years now!    Once I’m standing in spots like this, manuscript in hand, it’s usually ‘all systems go.’  I don’t know about my fellow lay-preachers, but I usually get most of my kvetching and panicking done ahead of time. 
Two weeks ago, I woke at three in the morning, pulse elevated, a bit sweaty: nightmare accomplished!   In said nightmare, I was standing in the parlor of another of Greenfield’s old churches, without jacket or tie, or manuscript, Bible or leaflet.   I was supposed to be preaching from today’s text but instead, I was refereeing a fierce squabble between senior citizen siblings who were complete strangers to me.   
Yes, I’m weird!!!  And yes, human weirdness is the point of my opening paragraphs.  Why do I do this nightmare inducing thing?  What is this spooky thing we call a “Calling,” or vocation to preach?    Or, why do I work all day in other people’s gardens, only to come home and do it some more?  Why do I play board games when I’m rubbish at it?    Why do I watch BBC news every evening when it inevitably leads to disappointment, hand-wringing frustration, and desperate prayer? Why do I anything?   Simple answer?   Again…I’m weird.   But maybe we all are?   
I only say all this because the same can be said for the characters in today’s text from the Hebrew Scriptures.   Few of the characters we read about in the II Kings story are two dimensional or easily pigeon-holed.   They are all at least a little weird…that is to say they’re all multifaceted, complicated humans.   I want to spend our next few minutes exploring these personalities. 
The first Bible stories I recall from childhood are those surrounding the amazing careers of Elijah, and his successor, Elisha, who shows up in today’s first text.   As a child,  I was star-struck by the prophets’ almost super-hero status. 
Today’s account marks just one of twenty miracles that shape Elisha’s narrative in the book of Second Kings.  Moses is the only prophet associated with more miracles than Elisha.    There are so many similarities to the miracles of the Gospels that many theologians refer to Elisha as a type or foreshadowing of Christ.  After an edgy start, Elisha’s ministry was redemptive and constructive.  It was without prejudice regarding status, gender, or ethnicity.  Most of the time, he’s about feeding the hungry,  rescuing the impoverished, protecting the vulnerable, healing the sick, gifting life, even resurrection life.   He dispenses God’s transformational mercy and grace.  There was lots of  big drama, often in public forums. For Elisha, God is always ENOUGH.     It would be easy to focus on Elisha today, to the point of eclipsing everyone else in the story!   But there are other characters to consider. 
There’s Gehazi; the servant of Elisha.   Gehazi plays a significant role in many of the Elisha stories, including today’s, but today his role is edited out by the lectionary.    Here’s someone who’s had a front row seat to Elisha’s miraculous life, and even participated in it.    But by the time we get to today’s text, greed and deceit have bitter consequences.   For him, there’s no such thing as ENOUGH!  His selfish choices make him a cautionary tale.
Our narrator includes two kings.   And while we can deduce their names from surrounding biblical texts, the narrator chooses not to include those names in this account.   The royals are given little fanfare.   The only sovereign worthy of the narrator’s attention is God.  The kings of Damascus and Samaria only play bit parts to move the narrative forward.   The King of Aram is all about expanding his territory.  He’s a pragmatic bully who makes assumptions about Israel based on his own culture’s blurring of political and religious roles.   His neighbors can safely bet that he is plotting against them, always picking fights he is sure he can win.
The King of Israel, is a selfish, unprincipled creature who reduces life to a political and economic chessboard.   He assumes he’s the most important piece on the board: he suspects everyone is a competitor and he is the inevitable target.   He loves to play the petulant victim whenever he appears in II Kings.   Of all the characters in today’s text,   it’s interesting that the two kings are the most two-dimensional figures!   They are short-term tyrants. 
And now for some other characters who have walk-on roles. In a movie depicting this miracle story, they would appear far down in the final credits.   We are introduced to the general’s wife who functions as a means of connecting the dots between her anonymous slave girl’s gospel and her husband’s desperate need. 
The last anonymous walk-on happens when we get a brief glimpse of the servant who knows how to speak truth to power and survive the encounter.  He’s careful to address the general with the confusing, familial title of “Father.” He addresses the general the same way Elisha used to address his mentor, Elijah, back in chapter two.   Neither the servant nor Elisha were literal sons.   “Father” was used as an expression of honor and respect.   It indicated a close, long-standing relationship between apprentice and teacher, between a trusted retainer and a lord.  The servant subtly recognizes the general as bold and brave, capable of accomplishing brave feats. He minimizes offended pride.   The servant finesses his boss down from the ledge.  He carefully maneuvers the general away from sabotaging his chance for a healing miracle merely because the general is all huffy over receiving second hand directions to take a bath in a dirty river, rather than being directly ministered to by the great prophet, or begged to take on an heroic quest.    
Next, I direct your attention to the complicated General Naaman.  He’s truly a weird mix of personality traits.   Naaman is a proud oppressor, a social climber valued for his military ruthlessness but also stigmatized by an incurable disease that can’t be disguised.   He’s blinded by prejudice and enriched by exploitation.   He is also a beloved head of household where we would expect him to be only loathed and feared. He can be convinced even in mid-tirade.   He is deeply grateful and extravagantly generous once he experiences grace.  Naaman is willing to embrace faith in this new deity who comes to his rescue, and vows almost exclusive devotion, in spite of coming from a background of polytheism that had almost no conception of divine/human intimacy and focused on use of sympathetic magic to manipulate capricious local deities. 
 Before wrapping up the collection of character studies,  I want to redirect your attention to the nameless female child who gets the whole ball rolling in this miracle story.  She was born into an ancient patriarchal world where women and children were powerless chattel.  She has been abducted, enslaved, trafficked.   Here was a child, ripped from family and culture:  a stranger trying to survive in a city of foreign strangers.  It is no exaggeration to describe her as a victim in an horrific, dehumanizing system rife with all sorts of abuse.    
While I still cherish my childhood admiration for Elijah and Elisha; these days I’m feeling like the unsung miracle in II Kings, chapter five is this amazing girl.  Without her agency, there is no good news, there is no healing miracle, there is no change of heart.    Considering her circumstances, the little girl’s short sentence is weird indeed!  (If by weird we mean unexpected, uncanny, out of the ordinary, or not aligning with expected behaviors or social norms.)   Surely, the expected thing would be a victimized child,  silenced by trauma or choosing quiet vindictiveness.  Instead there is an expressed desire for her enemy’s wholeness.   Her short sentence of Evangelism,  or Good News was linguistically, simple, but so amazing!   There was a bold confidence in a God who was real, a God who cared, a God who was capable, and a God who was ACCESSIBLE, thanks to Elisha’s famous ministry.   
I get someone like the prophet Jonah.   Later on,  he’ll appear on the scene, only reluctantly obeying God, preaching hope to the Assyrian capital of Nineveh.   He may have been a spiritual “professional,” but he was also an adult who was acutely aware of current events and knew just how brutal, bloodthirsty and ruthless the Assyrians were.   God insisted that he offer them a message of mercy.   But Jonah’s commission comes subsequent to surviving the Assyrians ’annihilating blitzkrieg of his homeland.   Is it any wonder he bought a one way boat ticket in the opposite direction?  He WANTED to see the Assyrians go down for their atrocities.  Ironically,   rabbis inform us that Jonah’s name translates as “dove.”  Picture the creature that brings the tiny olive sprig of hope to flood-weary Noah.  But for Jonah, God’s grace toward Nineveh was a consummate disappointment!  He wanted the Ninevehites to respond to his hell-fire and brimstone sermon with despair rather than hope. Again, for me, Jonah’s history only elevates the character of the enslaved child, the truly peaceable dove of II Kings 5.
My challenge to each of us is that we examine ourselves in the light of the circumstances and example of the anonymous little girl.    Do we see ourselves as powerless?   Maybe we even imagine ourselves as victims in an out-of-control world?   Do any of us have sure-fired plans to end bloodshed in Ukraine or any of the other global hotspots?   Do any of us have the resources to feed the starving souls in Gaza or East Africa?   Do any of us have the capacity to convince superpowers to reallocate and share resources, halt plagues, or restore ecosystems?   After a single news cycle I’m tempted to curl up into a cocoon of disappointment, despair, doubt.   I’m quick to abdicate ANY responsibility and cower behind a plea of helplessness.    But the weird girl of our miracle story is a wonderful reminder that my rationalizations behind my moral impotence…are LIES.  Let me repeat that: my rationalizations…behind my moral impotence are LIES. If a nameless child, who lived almost 3,000 years ago, can be remembered as a bold agent of change and transformation, then WE are without excuse!  If we really believe that The Holy Spirit is alive and well in us, we are NOT powerless victims!   We are enriched by grace! We are united in resurrection life!  We are emboldened by divine direction!   We can face our most dire circumstances with faithful, consistent prayer; bold, simple words; and loving acts.  Just like that anonymous child we can be tiny agents of big, hopeful, transformational MIRACLES!    And isn’t that wonderfully weird?

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