Following Instructions - Feb 12, 2006

2 Kings 1:1-14

We have a drawer in our house into which we toss instruction booklets when we purchase something that comes with one - a new small kitchen appliance, for example. I will read the first few pages for instructions on how to turn the thing on, or how many batteries it will take, but after that, I figure that as an adult in her forties, I should know by now pretty much how the world works enough to wing it.

So these helpful pamphlets, which the manufacturer was so thoughtful to provide for us, sit in a drawer somewhere, gathering dust, or just gathering. And that's where they stay, until something goes wrong. And when something goes wrong, invariably I'll stand and try to figure out how to operate the thing, and then that little voice inside of me will ask, "Now where were those instructions?" And then I'll dig through the drawer, praying that I didn't throw the booklet away in a cleaning fit - which I have been known to do. But I don't even consult the instructions until something goes wrong.

Naaman is one of those guys for whom very little goes wrong. Maybe you know somebody like Naaman - someone successful, famous, well placed in the world - but with a slight problem. Naaman would make a good guest on Oprah, wouldn't he? She likes to occasionally profile celebrities with hidden secrets, imperfections or flaws they are able to keep out of the spotlight. Now the reason, of course, that she likes to do this is because we like to watch it. There seems to be some undeniable part of our nature that enjoys seeing hidden flaws in famous people. It makes them more like us, somehow. Naaman has a skin disease - probably not what we commonly refer to as leprosy or Hansen's disease, but some sort of skin fungus - something that keeps him being at his best.

That a servant girl - a war conquest that Naaman has won doing what he does best - enters the picture is supposed to sit up and make us take notice. That an idea from a young girl makes its way all the way to the five-star general of the Aramean army is a detail so unusual, so improbable that we are forced to consider it. (It's as if Donald Rumsfeld started taking skin care advice from a displaced child in Iraq.) As improbable as it seems, this is what happens, which begins a series of choices that Naaman must make in order to get what he really wants. And what Naaman really wants is wholeness.

The first choice: go right to the prophet to seek what he needs, or go through the channels that he is most familiar with; the way of getting things done that has always worked for him in the past. Of course Naaman goes with the tried and true, and uses his connections. Naaman must have known that contacting the king would suddenly elevate this little trip to see the prophet to a matter of politics. Surely Naaman is wise enough to figure out that the King did not want some commander with a skin disease, and will do what ever is in his power to fix this problem. That's just the nature of politics, right?

When Naaman arrives in Samaria, he is faced with another choice: go to the King of Israel with his letter of recommendation and his treasures, or seek the prophet. Well, Naaman, just like the rest of us, is a creature of habit, isn't he? He does what has always worked in the past, namely using his position of authority to get what he needs. This of course, backfires on Naaman, by putting the King onto a panic. A panicky king is in no position to heal anybody, but it seems everybody except Naaman can figure this out.

Since, Naaman has proven again and again that he will not come to the prophet, the prophet comes to him, through the voice of a messenger, likely a small boy, according to expert translations of the Hebrew. And the solution to Naaman's little problem comes from an unlikely source - the muddy trickle of a creek called the Jordan. Naaman throw his little temper tantrum about the indignity of it all - that a man of his stature should have a mere boy send a message, and that the message itself is to let himself be muddied up in some little creek bed, when the rivers of Damascus would be more suitable.

And while Naaman is running around like chicken with is head cut off, trying to figure out ways to manipulate the situation to get what he wants, God is waiting. God, our patient and long-suffering God, waits for us to get it right. God waits until Naaman has done all of his scheming, has done all of his manipulations, has gotten it all out of his system, and at the end, the healing is still there waiting for him.

When I was a young mother, I had plenty of opportunities to practice patience. If you have had children or child-like adults in your life, Perhaps you have, too. All of the parenting books I read at the time (the 80's) taught me to wait out temper tantrums, to let the child throw the fit, but to remove the child from any stimulating environment. I was advised to keep my reaction to the fits at an absolute minimum, giving as little reinforcement to the child as humanly possible. When the child has finished with the inappropriate behavior, the adult can then calmly address what the child wants or needs.

All this looks wonderfully logical on paper, but when a little boy of about 16 months is straining and pulling to get out of the restraint strap on the grocery cart in a crowded Pick n Save on a Saturday all the while screaming at the top of his very healthy lungs, it is very hard to remember the book advice I had been given. And even though all his physical needs had been met - he wasn't hungry, thirsty, or in need of changing - he was throwing a doozy of a tantrum. And when other adults are shooting the mom dirty looks, it is hard to keep focus and do what works. It is even harder when other helpful adults give unsolicited advice on how to get the child to stop screaming:

  • "Excuse me, but is his leg pinched in that strap?" (No his legs were fine. His ego was pinched in the strap)
  • "That child looks hungry. If you take him to the bakery, they'll give him a cookie. That'll quiet him down." (Yes, then I'll have a screaming toddler with chocolate all over his hands. And sugar in his bloodstream.)
  • "You just need to tell him whose boss." (I'm pretty sure we all know who is in charge right now.)
  • "Just let your baby out. He wants out." (No kidding!)

That experience of having a screaming toddler must be something like what God goes through with us. Sometimes I read the paper or hear on the news what is happening in the world, and I think God must be awfully patient and loving to put up with such children. God waits for us while we get our act together - or don't. God waits for us while we go digging through the drawer to find the instructions that God has left for us - and when we have lost the instructions altogether, or forgotten we even had instructions in the first place. The entirety of the Old Testament is story after story of people getting it right, and then five verses later getting it wrong, and then, maybe getting it right again. The one consistent thing throughout the history of God with God's people is that God waits for us, giving us chance after chance to get it right.

The story of God with God's people is this: we want healing and wholeness? Well, luckily for us we have a God who desperately, lovingly wants us to be whole. Even though we would move heaven and earth to heal ourselves if we could, God simply says to us: "Come to me, my healing comes as simply as wading in a river. My balm is for all." And even though we might fumble along as we get there, God waits for us to get it right. God loves us enough to let us throw our foolish tantrums, forget everything we have been taught, and yet God waits for us.

In the fullness of time, when the world was ready for a Savior, God had waited long enough, and Christ came to us. When in the midst of his ministry Jesus recalled the healing of Naaman, when he reminded the people what they already knew--that God waits for us, and God heals us, the crowd hearing the story was so incensed, so enraged, that they took Jesus to a cliff, and tried to throw him off. And even though we might not be ready to hear it, the story still speaks to us. The instructions are still relevant. God still offers healing and wholeness for a broken and fearful world. And God still waits.

Thanks be to God!