Luke 11:1-13 "A Liturgy Using The Lord's Prayer"

         Theologian Frederick Buechner once speculated that, when we repeat a word over and over, that word will lose its meaning and instead become a jumble of sounds.  He writes, “Take any English word, even the most commonplace, and try repeating it twenty times in a row—umbrella, let us say, umbrella, umbrella, umbrella—and by the time we have finished, umbrella will not be a word any more. It will be a noise only, an absurdity, stripped of all meaning.” 

         Buechner goes on to say that “when we take even the greatest and most meaningful words that the Christian faith has and repeat them over and over again for some two thousand years, much the same thing happens.”  I suspect that Buechner was thinking, among other words, of those words that are so deeply and profoundly embedded in our Christian worship ritual – words such as those which make up the Lord’s Prayer. 

         We repeat the words like a mantra or a lucky charm Sunday in and Sunday out and maybe even some of the days in between.  And the words that were so new and illuminating when Jesus first spoke them in response to his disciples’ plea – teach us to pray – threaten to become for us  millennia later little more than rote syllables strung together.  Umbrella, umbrella, umbrella.

         Should we really be surprised then by the little boy who confidently claimed to his mother one day that God was a man?  It was an incontrovertible fact. 

         “And how do you know that?” his mother queried.

         “Because his name is Harold,” the small boy proclaimed.  “You know, it says so in the Lord’s Prayer.  ‘Our father who art in heaven, Harold be his name.”

         Because the Lord’s Prayer can so easily become like saying umbrella, umbrella, umbrella twenty-five times, today here in worship we will reflect upon these beautiful and timeless words through new ears.  We will ponder each phrase of the prayer so many of us learned by heart so many years ago.  We will use different words – and we will use songs – in the hope that a particular word or phrase will cause life and substance to swirl about the ancient prayer in a new way for you, causing them to become vibrant and perhaps more meaningful than before.

          The Lord’s Prayer is so important to us who call ourselves Christian.  Each phrase summarizes an integral aspect of Jesus’ message.  And it is good to have something like the Lord’s Prayer, certainly as a foundation for our personal devotions but also just to have something to say to the Holy One when no other words come to mind to say – when the pain is too deep or the loneliness too overpowering, when the joy is immeasurable and no language seems to capture its essence.

         When you do not know what else to say to God and you want to say something because part of praying is simply the discipline of doing it, say the Lord’s Prayer. When you want to try out those words that Jesus spoke -  ‘Ask and you’ll get;
Seek and you’ll find;
Knock and the door will open.” – but you are not sure what you are asking for or seeking or what door you want opened, say the Lord’s Prayer.  When it seems like you are still awake in the darkest midnight of your life, and you just want the comfort of Someone Else to share your joy or live with you in your pain, say the Lord’s Prayer.

         You see, in the end, prayer is not about enumerating a wish list to God.  Prayer is about strengthening a relationship with the Holy One, a relationship that has always been there.  As Frederick Buechner wrote, “Keep speaking into the darkness until you are answered.  And believe that Someone is there.  Believe that someone is listening.  And if the prayer seems to go unanswered?  Who knows?  Just keep praying.  Keep on beating the path to God's door, because the one thing you can be sure of is that down the path when you beat with even your most half-cocked and halting prayer the God you call upon will finally come, and even if he does not bring you the answer you want, he will bring you himself. And maybe at the secret heart of all our prayers that is what we are really praying for."

HYMN OF RESPONSE  "What a Friend We Have in Jesus"

“Our father who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name”

O Breathing Life, Our creator God whom the heavens disclose, Ancient of Days, Holy Mother of all worlds and living souls, Beloved, our Father and Mother, in whom is heaven, O Birther! Father-Mother of the Cosmos, Abba, Our Mother Who Art in the kitchen cooking us up, Papa, lover of our soul, Mystery beyond our knowing, close to us as our breathing, who walks with us but also empowers us to walk, alpha and omega, I am who I am,,,…may your name be held holy, may your Name shine everywhere!  Your arms, that once flung galaxies of stars like grains of sand, are open wide, may your sacred name be praised….Holy and blessed is your true name.

HYMN OF RESPONSE     “How Great Thou Art”  verse 1

“Thy Kingdom Come, They Will be Done on Earth as it is in Heaven”

 May healing come – in our time.  May your vision of justice and mercy to be made real in our world even now.  May peace come – all in our time.  Imagine your possibilities now, O Holy One. Embody your desire in every light and form…. May your realm extend, a commonwealth of mercy, peace, and justice. May your love be done on earth, in time, as it is in eternity.   Help us love beyond our ideals and sprout acts of compassion for all creatures. Animate the earth within us.  Make the world a good place. Do what is best here on earth.  Make it like heaven.  Let your will be done soon until we can finally say, heaven is possible here on earth.  Let heaven and earth become one.

HYMN OF RESPONSE – “Called as Partners in Christ’s Service”  verses 1 and 2

 “Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread”

Feed us.  Feed the world.  Keep us alive with three square meals.  Enfold us in your bounty.  Grow through us this moment's bread and wisdom, bread and insight.  Give all of us each day the bread we need and hope to all who hunger for your life.  Give the world the bread it needs.  Give it to those who have none. Give us everything we need – and give it to us every day.  Give us this day bread we could feed the world with and snatch us bald-headed if we try to swallow it all.  May the daily bread we partake in be the communion of struggle and hope and be the bread that is shared by all. We pray for your vision of enough: enough sustenance, enough warmth, enough healing for all of your children. 

HYMN OF RESPONSE  “Let Us Break Bread Together”  verse 1

“And Forgive us our Debts and we Forgive our Debtors”

Cut us some slack even as we cut other’s slack. Untie the knots of failure binding us as we release the strands we hold of others' faults.  Pardon us the times we've broken faith. Forgive our lack of loyalty and love and move us quickly to forgiveness when wrongs are done to us.  Let us not seek revenge, but reconciliation.  Let us not delight in victory, but in justice.  Untangle the knots within so that we can mend our hearts' simple ties to each other.  Let forgiveness flow like a river between us, from each one to each one. That salve you've got in a pot on the back of the stove only heals when everybody has some.  Loose the cords of mistakes binding us as we release the strands we hold of other's guilt.

CALL TO OFFERING – “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.  Love us in spite of ourselves – and teach us to do the same to others.”  Let us share in our morning offering.

THE OFFERING

PENTECOST PRAISE SONG

PRAYER OF DEDICATION

“Lead Us Not into Temptation but Deliver Us from Evil”

Lead us not into the moral vacuum.  Keep us away from the byways and trails that lead us to nowhere.  The flashing lights, the neon signs, the glitz and glitter, the dead end alleyways.  Deliver us from hopelessness, from intolerance, from war, from poverty.  Do not abandon us in the time of hard testing, and save us from evil’s every incarnation. In times of temptation and test, strengthen us.  From trials too great to endure, spare us. From the grip of all that is evil, free us.  Don't let surface things delude us, but free us from what holds us back from our true purpose. Lead us into the fullness of life, but deliver us from evil.  Liberate all that is good, and free us from what holds us back.  May we let go of that which is death dealing even as we embrace your vision for life.  Do not let cynicism rule us.  Lead us to holy innocence.  Keep us safe…..

MORNING PRAYER

…and keep safe all those who are in need – those whom we pray will be healed – perhaps in body, perhaps in spirit – esp. those within our church family – Joan, Ron, Muriel.  But also those whose names need to be said silently or out loud by us using our individual voices…

Keep us safe, O God, and lead us to your kingdom and to your arms of love.  Amen

CONGREGATIONAL SUNG RESPONSE

“For Thine is the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory, Forever.  Amen”

You are the source, you alone.  Only with you are all these things possible.  From you arises every Vision.  you alone are God of grace and glory, and Rock of our Redemption.  You reign in the glory of the power that is love,  now and forever.  For the Wisdom, the power and the glory, the Presence and the Goodness are Yours..  You're in charge!  You can do anything you want!  You're ablaze in beauty!  You are king.  You are a great God.   Now and forever.  Until the end of time.  Until the 12^th of never – and that’s a long, long time. Yes!  Yes!  Yes!  Let it be so, God, let it be so. I affirm this with my whole being.  This we believe.  Amen.

CLOSING HYMN  “Holy Is Your Name”
by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond VIllage Community Church
The reflections were inspired by and adapted from http://re-worship.blogspot. com

         

Matthew 25:31-46 "Journal Reflections from our 2013 Mission Trip to Maine Seacoast Mission

        Our mission trip was to Maine Seacoast Mission in Cherryfield, Maine, in Washington County, one of the most impoverished counties in all of the United States.  The Mission provides spiritual, health, and youth development programs in coastal and island communities from midcoast to Downeast Maine. 

         Through food pantries, emergency financial assistance, home repairs, in school, out of school and summer youth leadership and development programs for children in grades 4- 12, the mission brings support, compassion, and hope to the people of Downeast Maine.

         As a seven person team (myself (spiritual go to person), Joe Foran (technical and construction advisor), Caryl Gilman (window project manager), Marie Guerin (power saw woman extraordinaire), Martha Morrison (wielder of hammer and paintbrush and director of site clean up), Judy Munson (power drill queen), and Tom Wiley (fearless leader and organizer), as a team, we were located on the Downeast Campus.  There is a staff and office building, the Edge Community Center, and a chapel where we stayed which became our “elegantly appointed” home away from home for the week.  There is also a trailer on the campus that is being rehabbed for families to stay when major construction needs to be done on their home.  We brought back brochures, which are in the Vestry.  We all hope that you will take a look at them.

         Each one of us kept a journal during our time away.  I hope we can give you a flavor of our experience by reading excerpts from all of our journals – and by showing you what the week was like through the visual presentation Joe put together from the over 500 photos four of us took.  I know the hope of the mission team is that we will ignite a spark in a lot of you that will burn and glow enough to move you to come back with us when we return to Maine Seacoast Mission another year.  These writings are from our journals…..

Cherryfield here we come!  Tom is especially so exited to be leading this Mission Trip.  He is like a little kid.

What a send off from the church we had on Sunday.  Being at the front of the church and hearing everyone sing was so moving – and then the hugs as we walked down the aisle.  After a tear-inducing benediction, we seven were off on an adventure....

We left with our hopes (“I am looking forward to growing by leaps and bounds this week in my spiritual life”) - and with our fears, which we shared in our first evening’s reflection – would we be able to contribute?  Could we physically keep up?

Come as you are – your responsibility is to be yourself, with all that that means.  God knows the good and the bad, the weak and the strong about me – and loves me just the same – and I’ve done much worse than be myself.

I realized the Mary was kind of our example for the trip – when the angel came to her, she didn’t say more than “how can this be?”  She didn’t ask (as I did):

         What will it be like?

         Can I really do that?

         How will it feel?

She said “be it done to me as you say.”  Wouldn’t it be great if we could react to all that God throws our way like that?

On Sunday evening just after we arrived, we went to the Table of Plenty, which is a free community meal prepared at the Mission each week by a different neighborhood group.  Tonight was hosted by “Freaks and Geeks” – the young, back to the landers in Cherryfield, and so we enjoyed their homemade breads, organic produce from their own gardens, and Thai noodles.  I ended up eating with a woman who has been here in the Cherryfield area for 20 years.  She is an artist – does murals and now book illustrations and binding.  She was originally from Philadelphia, went to several different art schools, Haystack, etc.  – a very bright dynamic woman.

It is such an interesting community here – the activist long haired freaks and geeks, artists, the people – young and old - who make Washington County one of the poorest in our nation, lobsterman, fishermen, people who have been here forever and those who wanted to make Maine their retirement home – and here they found cheap land and housing, a number of artists.  And yet with such different political persuasions and worldviews to work with, Maine Seacoast Mission is trying (quite successfully, I would say) to create a viable working community with a sustainable economy. 

Together they are all creating a warm and helpful spirit in spite of its being a community with lots of problems.

Joe and Caryl checked out the job site, and the former has spent the evening drawing elaborate plans for our rehab – amazing skill, staggering persistence.  He’s accompanied at our round table by solitaire players.  The sky darkens, voices dim, our activity has bedtime overtones.  Preparation for a new day:  the unknown fears admitted, contrasted with the hopes anticipated – getting to know others better, working on a home to improve safety, convenience, and access.

As I lay awake last night, (NOTE – as most of us did, it appears from reading these journals) I wondered about the couple we would meet and share our week with. 

Our home repair clients are Mary Ann and Kevin Rice.  They moved to their little cottage on five acres when they retired, fully intending to keep up the property and live the good life Downeast.  Ten years later, a heart attack (Kevin) and less than successful surgery for an arthritic knee (Mary Ann), they are in way over their heads in a house that is falling down around them and a property that demands too much.  Their house is part of the 80% of housing stock around here that is poorly made pre-1970’s.  We will be replacing 2 windows that currently do not open, a new front stoop, and installing a handicap ramp.  Our work means the world to them and especially to her.

I can go all rational about this and bemoan their naivety moving so far from any social net, but frankly, there but for the grace of God….

They are the loveliest people – they made lunch for us all under a pop-up tent, and we listened to Mary Ann’s stories of growing up “carnie”, that is, traveling with the Ringling Bros circus until she was 13 – her mother was a dancer, and her father a carnival barker who also had a side show act with monkeys.  I think they really enjoyed playing host and hostess and getting to know all of us.  

For them and especially for her, having us here is a real special treat.  I value the connection to the people we repair for. 

We are their neighbors for this week.  Being a neighbor – a good one.  Is it easier to do that with people far away and different and for a short time versus day in and day out?  In some ways, yes.  Could I/would I bring the same commitment to the people I work with?  What can I bring from this week to my daily life?

As we open our eyes to awake to a new day, I feel a new spiritual day is on the horizon.  The togetherness and teamwork, which we are experiencing and sharing, is wonderful.  We are all God’s creatures and are taught to help and support each other.  The Rice family will see some changes to their house, but I think the RVCC mission team will see the most change. 

Listen- ask- learn.  Let go and let be.  Try, reflect, do better.  Perfection is on the job description of the Lord.

Everyone is getting along famously – no divas, no generalissimos, just folks interested in doing right by each other and by our clients, the Rice’s.

We are learning new skills – Joe is especially patient in teaching us – Marie on the table saw, me on the power drill. Caryl heading up the window replacement project, Martha painting and hammering, Judy is the decking queen, Tom is everywhere needed – in the kitchen doing picky finish work, in the dirt under the deck - and always with a smile.  He is the one who reminds us to laugh and who gets us going again!

I have been surprised at my patience.  I have learned that a job well done by all of us is so to be preferred to my typical pickiness and a job done just by me….

Teasing and caring for each other and whistling - coming together – our team.

We are feeling a spirit of closeness growing among us.  Everyone is pitching in and helping – both on the job site and at meals. 

What a bunch of busy beavers we rare!  I am proud to be part of the team.

How unlike the 9-5 we normally live in – where everyone has a job, and it fits in a box.  “My box only.”  “You have your own box.”  Not here in Cherryfield.  We are all assuming different roles and they fit nicely and flow strongly. 

We are working so well together – looking out for each other and no one fainted in the 96 degree heat today!

Hot day today.  We are sweating but at least we are not sweating the small things.

So many moments of grace – spelling each other, celebrating one another’s triumphs.

We seven flow between jobs helping each other in various combinations, a very comfortable working way.  Is the back and forth with tools and trash, boards and braces, spiritual? 

Even though it’s not in our scope of work, I weeded Mary Ann’s gardens because she so clearly loves flowers and can’t take care of them herself any more.

I hate the expression “helping those less fortunate.”  Who am I to judge that Kevin and Maryann are less fortunate because they needed some work done on their house?

For every two steps forward there is at least one step back.  Things did not fit due to the place being “The House that Jack Built” – not a right angle in the place! 

Who would have known that we could not even begin to work on the handicap ramp until Joe, Judy, and Tom undid and then redid the terrible job on the deck it was to be attached to – some of the supports were attached to nothing and needed to be replaced.  We didn’t know that pouring concrete would be part of the job we had to do before we could do the job we were assigned to!

Today I itched to have the stoop installed at least in a temporary way.  With spade and back-breaking late day digging by one of our crew, we did it. 

My thought was that each of us had had some part in the planning, cutting, measuring, lugging, screwing that we needed a front and center result. 

Did I feel closer to God here?  No – however the flow of work, humor, reflection, stories, and songs created an atmosphere of “godliness.”

Each of us leads a grace at breakfast and dinner.  And so we sang familiar grace songs.  We sang songs with new words.  Martha did a beautiful extemporaneous prayer.  And you know who taught us the Philmont Boy Scout grace.  We shared graces from childhood – including the English translation of a Swedish grace that Judy read.

We head home tomorrow.  I had my doubts about making this trip but now I hate to think about leaving.  It has been a wonderful experience, something I could never have thought I could enjoy so much.  This trip has exceeded my expectations.

Wednesday afternoon – the Magnificent Seven becomes the Fab Five.  Sadly, Judy and Martha are leaving as planned.  They both played key roles in this group of seven.  Plus, I will never forget the love for our time together, a vision of which Judy left us with – along with Martha’s short and totally heartfelt prayer.  Hugs and tears.  Goodbye Dynamite Duo!

Thursday evening – the mission sponsors a BBQ each week for the volunteers, so we enjoyed a wonderful meal with a large (30 plus) group from Massachusetts.  But the menu was not the usual burgers and dogs.  As a way of saying thanks, the relative (a lobsterman) of one of the clients whose home had been repaired donated fifty lobsters and dozens of clams for us to enjoy.  Here in the Portland area, we say, oh, what an expensive treat!  However, as someone here said, Downeast, lobsters off the boat are going for less than a couple of bucks a pound and are cheaper than hotdogs.  Says something about the economic downturn up there in rural Maine.

Somewhere hidden in the dirt for nearly 3 days of the traffic of feet and rose bush brush dragged over it, a nickel sized metal piece revealed itself, picturing the dove of the Holy Spirit with a few forgotten-to-me words. 

I’m not a big believer in signs (although chickadees remind me of my dad and brown-eyed susans of my mom) but maybe the 3-in-one was along on the adventure too!

I could argue that our simple acts are a bandaid on the cancer eating away at their house, but the windows give them ventilation they have never had before, and the stoop and ramp allow for her to be something other than a shut-in….

I could argue that this is all sort of meaningless when objectively measured against need in even this one small corner of Northern Maine, but better a pitiful something than nothing at all….

We came thinking that our job was home repair – build a stoop, put in a couple of windows.  But that is only one of several levels of our mission.   There is more – there is a social element – getting to know our clients – and their animals – like Spanky the cat and Maggie the dog. – listening to Kevin and Mary Ann’s stories.  That too is time well-spent but not exactly in the official scope of work.  But maybe there is another kind of repair that needs to go on as well….And there are the little things that aren’t in the job spec either but that I think are important - the things that make a house a home – like weeding and cleaning up Mary Ann’s gardens.  Balancing all those things can be tricky.  But you hope that the combination somehow will give the Rice’s a pride of place and that they will begin to take a more committed responsibility in caring for their home.

I put what probably had been a pin on the table and never saw it again.  Who knows its origin or how long it had been in that basically beautiful piece of property.  My fingers itch for a dumpster.  Does one get used to living in a jumble?  How is motivation effected by poverty?

What a week it has been.  Lots of laughs.  Lots of learning.  Lots of letting things go, but the core of it all was lots of love.    A lifetime of memories. 

I came as I was – and learned a great deal and pushed myself more than I might have and got more done.

Everyone will leave this trip with some bumps and bruises, scrapes and cuts, which makes perfect sense when you think about it.  Life is not perfect even for all those who think it should be.  We cannot fix all the things at the house to the way they should properly be.    We needed to accept the things we could not change (like it says in the Serenity prayer).  When things were not plumb, square, or level, we had to work within those confines.  Personally that was a struggle for me. 

We can’t change the world or even complete all the home repairs that are needed at the Rice’s home in under a week – realizing that is perhaps “the wisdom to know the difference” – again, as the Serenity Prayer says.

“Leave things better than you find them.” We definitely did that.  Things are better than when we began.  Not just structurally on the house that Jack built. But spiritually for all. 

What did I learn?

1.   Martha can straddle a sink (standing on the kitchen counter) to hold boards and more. She has a real knack for hammering in nails from the bottom up too

2.   Nancy is a fiend about garden weeding.

3.   Joe wears red suspenders to hold up his pants

4.   Judy knows how to use a T square and more

5.   Judy will dig and dig to get a hold dug for a sonotube.

6.   The clothes dryer sheets placed inside one’s hat really do seem to keep the bugs from biting.

7.   I am surrounded by caring people

8.   You can wash your underwear by taking a shower outside with your underwear still on.

I realize that well beyond the impact on the people we serve is the impact on us.  The joy of physical work, the lovely feeling of a cool shower after a miserably hot day, the delight in simply slowing down to a more leisurely pace dictated by the work and the heat, seeing ourselves and the Rice’s through our new unhurried eyes. 

What a week.  Ups and downs and highs and lows but, just like life, we can overcome all if we put our trust not only in the all mighty higher power but in each other as well.  

If when people come together to be a good neighbor – if that is grace – then we have all experienced it here.  Perhaps we have glimpsed a bit of the Kingdom.  If so, then why would we not work toward it always?

As I was leaving I realized how much we live in the fast lane.  As I was waiting to leave, I got behind a vehicle waiting to turn.  They not only waited for one vehicle to pass but another as well.  I just watched in amazement.  We in our high paced world would have honked our horn especially after they let one vehicle out, let alone two. Now being one who ramps up on the rat race each and every day I know there could have been time for at least two or three vehicles to cut in those gaps.  It makes me realize that we who have so much always need more.   We really do need to stop and smell the roses. We should also stop to slow down and help a neighbor. Or even let that other car go by.  

From a hand-written sign outside of the offices of Maine Seacoast Mission:  “The best days are when my gratitude is higher than my expectations.”

Thank you Cherryfield.  Thank you team.  And thank you God for your guidance along the journey.  

 Edited by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church, Raymond, Maine

2 Kings 5:1-14 "Ripples of Hope"

         I read a story recently about a devout Christian woman who was sitting by her living room window reading her mail.  When she opened one of the envelopes, she was surprised to find a crisp, new, ten-dollar bill. 

         She turned the bill over several times, not exactly sure what to do with it.  That was when she noticed a raggedly dressed stranger, leaning on a post just outside. Figuring that he was in far greater need than she, the woman did what any devout Christian would do.  She slipped the bill into a plain envelope, sealed it, and wrote: “Don't despair.”  Then she opened the window and handed the man the envelope. He read the note, smiled, tipped his hat, and walked away.

         The next day she heard a knock at her front door.  When she opened it, the same man to whom she had given the ten dollars just the day before was standing there.  He spoke not a word but handed her a roll of bills. When she asked what they were for, he replied: “That's your sixty bucks, lady! ‘Don't Despair’ paid five to one!”

         Not a bad payout for the woman!  But we are not about playing the horses here.  We want to know just what are the odds that the hotshot general Namaan could ever be cured of leprosy?  After all, it was an excruciatingly painful terminal disease. 

Surely he knew, his wife knew, and even his wife’s Israelite slave girl knew that, given the present circumstances, no matter how decorated, how successful, how famous Namaan might be, he was not in control here.  In the end, leprosy would do him in – and it would not be pretty. 

         Perhaps it was that overriding sense of futility, or perhaps it was the relative kindness that Namaan’s wife had shown to her young war prize, or perhaps it was because the slave girl herself knew that with Yahweh/God all things are possible, but for whatever reason one day the young woman dared to voice her opinion of Namaan’s health issue – “Oh, if only my master could meet the prophet of Samaria, he would be healed of his skin disease.” 

         And this whispered pronouncement of hope from the nameless slave girl set off a chain of events that led Namaan first to his own king, then to the king of Israel, then to the prophet Elisha, and finally to the polluted waters of the Jordan River. 

         Now Namaan was a powerful military commander in Aram, a country itching to conquer the struggling nation of Israel. Imagine then the dismay of the king of Israel when Namaan showed up on his doorstep with what was meant to be a letter of introduction but unfortunately came across as quite aggressive to the point of sounding downright pugnacious, like rattling a saber.  “When you get this letter, you’ll know that I’ve personally sent my servant Naaman to you; heal him of his skin disease.”

         Even the 750 pounds of silver and150 pounds of gold Namaan brought along with him did not assuage the fear of the Israelite king. “Am I a god with the power to bring death or life that I get orders to heal this man from his disease? What’s going on here? That king’s trying to pick a fight, that’s what!”

         Conjuring up in his mind images of yet another hopeless war, the Jewish king did what all Biblical characters seem to do under distressing circumstances.  He tore his clothes, ripped his robe to pieces.  Maybe it was a lucky thing that Namaan had also brought ten sets of clothing along with his offerings of silver and gold.

         It is at this point in our story that Elisha, the foremost prophet of the day, steps in.  Perhaps Elisha had heard about the robe ripping on the evening news and decided that now was an opportune time to appear with his proverbial words of wisdom.  

At any rate, he calmed down the distraught king.  “Why are you so upset, ripping your robe like this? Send him to me so he’ll learn that there’s a prophet in Israel.”

         And so Namaan, his servants having packed the expensive and downright heavy offerings of silver and gold back into the chariots, paraded in magnificent style from the king’s palace to Elisha’s home.   In spite of the setback with the king characterized by the robe ripping and all, Namaan figured he was making progress since it was the prophet that was supposed to be doing the healing anyway. 

         How shocked and frankly miffed he must have been when Elisha was not waiting at the front door for him.  I mean, who could be so impolite and frankly so impolitic as to ignore a celebrated military commander like Namaan who hailed from a nation itching to conquer you – not to mention who could be so crass as to turn up one’s nose at 750 pounds of silver, 150 pounds of gold, and ten new sets of clothing? 

         The thought of it rankled Namaan, to be sure, but this slow boil anger turned quickly to white hot fury when Elisha did not come out at all to greet the generalissimo, but sent a servant to deal with him instead. 

         The mouthpiece of the mouthpiece of God recited a simple message to Namaan:  “Go to the River Jordan and immerse yourself seven times. Your skin will be healed and you’ll be as good as new.”

That was when Naaman lost it. As the Biblical translation, The Message, puts it:  “He turned on his heel saying, ‘I thought he’d personally come out and meet me, call on the name of God, wave his hand over the diseased spot, and get rid of the disease.’’  (And wash in the Jordan?  You have got to be kidding! That is about the most polluted water around.  If I wanted to wash in a river – and believe me, I have tried to wash these leprosy scabs off, and it does not work – but if I wanted to wash in yet another river, it certainly would not be the muddy Jordan.) He stomped off, mad as a hornet.”

         Now, this whole healing business could have gone south at this point.  Things were at an impasse.  Elisha would not deign to come out of his house, and Namaan was furious, fit to be tied because he had not been treated like the military celebrity that he was and because he had his own ideas about how a proper healing should take place.  However, his servants – once again the nameless ones – maintained that whispering sense of hopefulness and, in doing so, saved the day and moved the story on to its happy conclusion.

         “If the prophet had asked you to do something hard and heroic, wouldn’t you have done it? (They queried). So why not this simple ‘wash and be clean’?”

         And they led Namaan back to the chariot.  He was still grumbling, but eventually came to the conclusion - what the hay, maybe the servants are right.  Besides, what could he lose?

         And as The Message translation tells us, “He went down and immersed himself in the Jordan seven times, following the orders of the Holy Man. His skin was healed; it was like the skin of a little baby. He was as good as new.

         This is a marvelous tale about how the great and powerful do not always get what they want when and how they want it.  It is a wonderful narrative about how sometimes it is the nameless ones, the insignificant individuals, who move the action along.  

         It is a story about how hope has a certain power of its own – even when the little guys wield it.  And so it is a story for all of us who are not leaders of mighty nations, who are not wealthy enough to lobby with our money to change what we do not like, who are just plain ordinary folk. 

         This story about the healing of Namaan would have been a non-starter without the so called very minor characters.  Remember?  It had been servants all along the way who kept Namaan’s hope alive when the situation ground to a standstill.  As Lutheran pastor Barbara Lundblad wrote, “There would be no story without the servants, without the slave girl who spoke of God's prophet, without the servants who turned Naaman's pride around. The mighty warrior was made whole by the power of God and by the intervention of the servants.”

         That which moved the story forward was not the gold and silver and ten sets of clothing.  Neither was it the letter of introduction from one king to another.  Nor was it Namaan’s white-hot anger.   Not wealth, not politics, not uncontrolled emotionalism – none of them was the driving force. 

         What drove the story forward, what made the circumstances for Namaan’s healing possible, was the voices of the servants, the slaves, the nameless ones, the little guys.  It was the whispered hope of the Israelite servant girl voiced to her mistress that led to Namaan’s journey in the first place.  It was the daring of Elisha’s servant to confront the great general and voice what surely he knew would be the terribly unpopular protocol for Namaan’s healing.  It was Namaan’s own servants once again who raised that lingering sense of hope, urging the old soldier to put aside his wounded pride, actually leading the mighty commander to the murky Jordan River to bathe in its muddy waters – not one time, not two times, but seven times.

         It is not the rich and powerful – the major characters – that make this story what it is, but rather it is the lowly ones.  The little guys, with only the power of hope, drive this narrative to its conclusion. 

         At each pivotal point, it is the powerless, not the powerful, who make a difference.  Put another way, the most powerful voices come from the most unexpected people. 

         Should that notion raise a couple of questions for us – sitting here today on this long Independence Day weekend? You bet – and the questions are these: Who are we most apt to listen to? A polarized congress?  The one percent?  And might we – even we who call ourselves Christian – might we be looking for God in all the wrong places? 

As one blogger I read this week put it, “There is wisdom in low places, and we who are high must listen to what they have to say.”

         In June of 1966, then Senator Robert Kennedy visited South Africa at a time when that nation was experiencing major unrest over its system of racial segregation known as apartheid.  Many in the anti-Apartheid movement had dedicated their lives to challenging the system of racial segregation and discrimination at the heart of the South African political and social system. As the result of these activities, Nelson Mandela and other anti-Apartheid leaders were imprisoned. 

         During his five-day visit to South Africa, Senator Kennedy made a total of five speeches, but his best remembered speech was delivered at the University of Cape Town.  He encouraged South Africans to keep struggling to create a more equitable society and to serve as a beacon of hope for all people. Known as the “Ripple of Hope” speech, this address is thought be some people to be one of the most significant speeches of the 20th century.  (Visions of Change: Robert F. Kennedy and the “Ripple of Hope”)

           Embedded in his words is a lesson also told in our story of the healing of Namaan:  We should never underestimate the power of the little guys when it is coupled with the power of God.  After all, when one’s cause is just, one’s strength is as the strength of ten.  In closing then, listen to Kennedy’s words:

         "Few will have the greatness to bend history itself, but each of us can work to change a small portion of events, and in the total of all those acts will be written the history of this generation. Thousands of Peace Corps volunteers are making a difference in isolated villages and city slums in dozens of countries. Thousands of unknown men and women in Europe resisted the occupation of the Nazis and many died, but all added to the ultimate strength and freedom of their countries. It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped.

         Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.”

         May it ever be so – and may we be part of the ripples and part of the current and part of the hope.  Amen.