Humility and Gratitude - A Sermon for Thanksgiving Sunday October 9, 2022
FIRST READING: 2 Kings 5:1-3, 7-15c
A reading from 2 Kings.
Naaman, a Syrian general, suffers from leprosy. In this passage Elisha miraculously cures his illness, but only after Naaman realizes, with the help of his servants, that he also needs healing for his pride. This foreign general then acknowledges the sovereignty of the God of Israel.
1Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man and in high favor with his master, because by him the Lord had given victory to Aram. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from leprosy. 2Now the Arameans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman’s wife. 3She said to her mistress, “If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.” 7When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, “Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me.”
8But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, “Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” 9So Naaman came with his horses and chariots, and halted at the entrance of Elisha’s house. 10Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.” 11But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, “I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy! 12Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?” He turned and went away in a rage. 13But his servants approached and said to him, “Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean’?” 14So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.
15a-cThen he returned to the man of God, he and all his company; he came and stood before him and said, “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel.”
Word of God, word of life.
Thanks be to God.
GOSPEL: Luke 17:11-19
The holy gospel according to Luke.
Glory to you, O Lord.
Jesus’ mission includes making people clean again. Unexpectedly, a Samaritan healed of leprosy becomes a model for those who would praise and worship God and give thanks for God’s mercy.
11On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. 12As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, 13they called out, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” 14When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean. 15Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. 16He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. 17Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? 18Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” 19Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.”
The gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, O Christ.
It is fitting that, on Thanksgiving Sunday,
we hear this Gospel about gratitude,
and perhaps also fitting that the scene is in the borderlands.
Jesus is travelling in the borderlands
between Samaria and Galilee,
on the way to Jerusalem,
where a Roman cross awaits.
That’s often where Jesus is found:
in the transitional places,
in the borderlands,
in the uncertainty.
What does faith and gratitude look like
when our life’s journey
takes us into uncomfortable territory,
into the borderlands?
How can we be grateful
when we find ourselves
crossing our own uncomfortable borders?
That’s where we find ourselves:
in the borderlands between COVID and new normal,
navigating the borderland of political polarization,
the borderlands of reconciliation and climate change,
the many borderlands in a rapidly changing society,
all while navigating our own personal borderlands.
Jesus had to pass through this particular borderland region:
you could say God willed it.
For Jesus,
there will be nothing more uncomfortable than the cross,
but navigating the borderlands was uncomfortable
because the relationship between Jews and Samaritans
was tricky.
It’s not just geography;
it is culture and ethnicity,
who is welcome and who is not.
It might be similar to navigating the borderlands
between Mexico and USA,
or North and South Korea,
or Ukraine and Russia.
Yet Jesus did not shy away from the borderlands,
nor the Samaritans,
nor sinner,
nor outcast,
nor child;
for Jesus is here for all people.
Wholeness and healing is God’s desire for all people,
God’s desire lived out in Jesus.
The ten lepers live their lives
in a different kind of borderland:
the border between life and death.
They didn’t have leprosy
in the way we understand it today;
they had a skin disease
that makes people look dead.
Think of this like “The Walking Dead - Bible Version.”
They are unclean,
they are impure,
they look dead,
they aren’t welcome in worship,
they aren’t welcome in the community
and have to keep social distance
because they pose a threat to the community’s health.
They can’t go home to visit their family.
The living are afraid that they will be
inflicted with this disease of death.
So the lepers are forced to live together
because it is the only community they can find,
Jew and Samaritan together,
and their home is in that borderland.
They are outsiders by death,
by disease,
by culture
by religion,
and by land.
Yet Jesus makes time for them.
Jesus listens to them,
sees them,
honours them,
welcomes them,
and like the apostles,
Jesus sends them.
They could have stayed and demanded a cure.
It is in the sending,
in humility;
in taking the small steps of faith on the road
that they were healed.
And healing was not just in body,
but in being able to visit their family again,
to worship in the congregation again,
to not have to keep their distance
from people in the community:
Jesus made them whole.
Jesus broke through the barriers of culture,
religion,
health
and land
because that’s what God does:
God breaks down barriers that we build.
God’s work is like this cartoon from David Hayward:
when we draw lines between people,
Jesus takes out the eraser.
Sometimes the lines are erased
when we take a leap of faith,
like the lepers calling to Jesus for mercy,
or a small step in faith
like their footsteps on the way
to show themselves to the priests,
knowing full well that they might not be welcomed;
they were unclean after all.
Sometimes God uses others
to break down the barriers in our way,
like the young slave girl
in the story of Naaman’s healing.
And sometimes the barriers are torn down
by God serving us a piece of humble pie.
Naaman’s story,
on the surface about a cure for his leprosy,
is really about arrogance
and entitlement.
Naaman was a commander for the Aramean army.
They captured a young Israelite girl in a raid,
who served Naaman’s wife as a slave.
She knew of God’s healing,
she knew of the prophet Elisha,
and told Naaman’s wife.
Think about this for a moment,
this young girl is captured,
becomes slave to her captor’s wife,
yet wishes for the health and healing
of her captor.
This is God’s work through an unlikely angel.
In arrogance and entitlement,
and perhaps a little desperation,
Naaman contacts the unnamed king of Israel
to receive a cure.
This unnamed king of Israel was mad.
Is he trying to start a war with me?
He tore his clothes and was ready to fight.
Yet God is found in the borderlands,
and in breaking down barriers.
Elisha steps in with an act of mercy.
“Send him to me.”
So Naaman comes to Elisha,
packed with ten talents of silver,
six thousand shekels of gold,
and ten sets of garments,
not to mention a letter from his king.
Naaman is ready to purchase his cure.
You might be able to buy a cure
but you cannot purchase healing.
Picture this,
You have a terrible disease,
and you are invited to the Foothills Hospital
to see a renowned specialist
for your disease.
You arrive at the door,
you await the doctor
and the receptionist brings you a note that says
“Go take a bath in the bow river,
you’ll be fine”
You’d be irate!
This is exactly what Elisha does.
He doesn’t even come out to see Naaman.
Go bathe in the Jordan River seven times,
Says Elisha’s messenger.
It’s not even some grand river.
It’s the narrow,
shallow,
meagre,
muddy River Jordan.
If he remained at Elisha’s door
in arrogance and entitlement,
the skin disease would have remained.
Naaman had to humble himself,
and follow the guidance of Elisha,
the man of God,
and then he was healed.
For Naaman,
a leper,
entitled,
arrogant,
fearful,
angry,
to be healed,
he had to humble himself.
Humbled before God,
Naaman becomes grateful,
and like the Samaritan leper
who returns to praise and thank Jesus,
Naaman also seeks to worship the God of Israel.
(Slide 5 - cartoon)
Many of us long for physical healing.
We who gather at Jesus’ feet to thank and praise God,
we long to be healthy,
healed,
made whole.
Humility and gratitude
journey alongside healing and wholeness.
Entitlement and arrogance
are often barriers to healing.
Arrogance might say that COVID wasn’t such a big deal
while humility might acknowledge
the pain that needs to heal
in ourselves and our community.
Entitlement says “I’m fine” when we hurt,
while humility confesses “I need help.”
Arrogance might say “I can do this on my own”
while gratitude remembers
God’s promise with the waters of baptism,
and that none of us can do it on our own.
Entitlement might point to who is in and who is out,
Arrogance might draw lines between people,
while gratitude and humility
might seek to join Jesus
and grab an eraser.
We are coming up on a year
since I took my stress leave.
This time last year,
I was in a really bad place.
My anxiety was worsening,
my mental health was so poor.
I was stuck.
Deep down I had known
that I needed help for some time.
There were many barriers:
some that I put up
and others were built around me.
I felt entitled to healing.
Like Naaman’s outrage at bathing in the river,
I actually thought that getting help was below me.
My healing journey didn’t really begin
until I humbled myself.
My healing meant navigating the borderland
between my entitlement and relearning gratitude.
I had to confess to what was really happening in me.
I had to learn about anxiety,
and come to terms with the reality that
I had suffered with it for years.
I had to stop distracting myself
from the trauma in my life,
and to see that old wounds
that I thought had healed weren’t healed,
just suppressed,
ignored,
covered with old bandaids.
I was fed a piece of humble pie:
I was told to get help,
so I took the first step on that road to healing
and got help.
I share this because, in my own way,
I was one of the lepers,
crying out for mercy.
Like Elisha and the young slave girl,
God used people in my life to break down the barriers.
Yet I was also Naaman,
in my own arrogance and entitlement,
not wanting to do
what was needed to be made well.
Perhaps you can relate.
As I practiced a humility
that journeyed with a more positive self image,
as I relearned gratitude for God’s gifts
and gratitude for who I am,
I found myself like the Samaritan leper on the road,
slowly seeing myself being made well.
If I’m being honest,
I am still on that road.
entitlement and arrogance
are still trying to take a seat at my table.
I still find the odd old wound that needs healing.
My anxiety remains.
Humility helps me learn how to live and thrive
while anxiety continues being a part of me.
The person who suffers from cancer is not cancer.
Similarly, I am not anxiety,
but I experience it.
Gratitude helps me see
God’s work of healing continue in and around me.
We may long for physical healing.
As much as we know God desires healing and wholeness,
Sometimes physical healing doesn’t come.
Sometimes the cancer is in remission
and sometimes it isn’t.
Sometimes we can’t go back
to our old physical selves.
Struggles with mental health and physical health
may be ongoing.
Like Naaman,
Like the lepers,
You are more than the illnesses you suffer with.
Yet amidst our suffering
we can be made well,
made whole,
be healed.
If all you see are borderlands and barriers,
Trust that God will break down the barriers
that get in the way of you being made whole.
The path to healing passes through
the different borderlands we face,
not around them.
The path to healing might mean joining the lepers
and just taking that first step on the road.
The path to healing
might mean taking a bath in the Jordan river,
remembering the baptismal waters,
allowing entitlement and arrogance to wash away,
and to practice humility and gratitude in its place.
By our baptism into Christ,
we have received the greatest gift.
God is with us.
We are enlightened with the gifts of the Holy Spirit.
We are freed from sin,
freed from the sting of death,
freed from bondage to the forces of evil.
We are restored to right relationship with our God,
the Great Physician,
We are called and gathered together in community,
in the church.
Washed in the Water of Life,
the barriers between you and God are gone,
So come to the water of life.
return to the waters of baptism.
You who hunger and thirst for healing and new life,
who long for peace and love,
who crave hope and joy and wholeness,
Come to the water of life:
for it is the same water with God’s promise
that cleansed the leper,
the same water with God’s promise
that claimed us in baptism,
the same water
that gushed from our Saviour’s side on the cross.
Healing happens with that little step in faith,
healing happens in baptismal waters.
May we put aside our arrogance and entitlement
and relearn humility and gratitude
May we join Jesus’s work of removing barriers
and take out our eraser.
And as we journey in faith along the borderlands of life
May we see God making us whole.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
