We have a wonderful, funny, poignant story from a time when the prophets of old were a conduit from God. A conduit of truth and sacred presence.
One day, a servant girl... a girl who had been captured in one of the raids into Israel and taken into captivity in Aram, away from her family and friends... one day this servant girl tells her mistress about the prophet in Israel who could cure her master’s skin disease.
The master, Naaman, who is an important Army commander goes to the king and tells him.
The king sends him to Israel with a letter and a whole bunch of money, asking the king of Israel to help Naaman.
The king thinks it’s some kind of plot to bring on an argument and goes all kooky in the head over it. Meanwhile, Elisha hears about the king and tells him to send Naaman over.
Elisha doesn’t even go out to meet him, but sends a servant out with the instructions to go wash seven times in the Jordan and he’ll be cured.
Naaman goes all kooky in the head over this and yells that there are cleaner rivers back home, why couldn’t he wash there, at least he’d be clean.
It’s another servant who intervenes and convinces Naaman to at least try it...
So, he does and Naaman is cured. The end... nice story.
What I love about this story is the people who are unimportant, who become very important. A captive slave girl. A servant. Another servant.
Each of them speaking truth to power.
Speak truth to power.
I’ve been hearing that phrase more and more lately. It seems to have become a call to the church in our time.
A few weeks ago, our General Minister and President had the unprecedented opportunity to speak truth to power in Washington, D.C. And for those of you who’ve had a chance to read or listen to her sermon, you know that that is exactly what she did.
Speaking truth to power. Have you ever had the chance to do that? Have you ever gotten up, knowing that your words were not going to be popular and yet speaking them because you knew they were the truth.
It’s not an easy task, is it?
It may very well be the most difficult, the most challenging moments of your life.
Each of us carries truths within us. Truths that we pick up along the journey, truths that are taught to us by wise people, truths that we just know, truths that are revealed to us by God, truths that are revealed to us by science, truths that grace us with an expanding view of life and our world.
These truths sometimes challenge the ways of old. These truths sometimes cause us to wrestle with how we thought things were. Truths that are not warmly embraced at first. Truths that might cause people we love to wonder about us, thinking that we’ve gone astray.
Each of these servants in the story is taking a chance. Standing up for something they believe in and speaking up about it. And ultimately, they lead a man to wholeness and healing.
The people in charge, at least some of them, are ready to give up, or give in. But the words of wisdom come from the powerless, the servant, the outcast. Words that guide, words that hold hope.
I remember listening to someone that I respected, someone that I thought knew a lot about God and the Bible and life... I remember hearing him tell me that women should never be allowed to lead in the church. That God’s word teaches us that women are inferior to men. That Paul teaches us that men are the head of the household and that women are to be submissive to men. It’s right there in the bible.
Several years later, as Tamalyn and I were interning at the church where this man was still a member... this conversation continued at an Elder’s meeting. I rose to challenge this man. I rose to speak a truth that I held in my heart. A truth that came from observing women in the church and life. A truth that came from knowing women ministers, including my wife, and women elders in other congregations whose leadership was most definitely of God. I spoke with my heart in my throat and hands shaking, but it was my truth...
I remember listening to someone that I respected, someone that I thought knew a lot about God and the Bible and life... I remember hearing them talking with a group of their coworkers about Black folks. This group felt that Black folks were inferior to white folks. That Black folks could never be as smart as white folks. And that’s right there in the bible - it was the mark of Cain.
Several years later, as we served a church where the majority of the congregation was black, this man came and visited us. We went to lunch together in the home of one of our black families after church. This man sat on the sofa between two young black men, one who was a high school principal and the other a professional business man with an expertise in computers which in the early 80’s was in great demand and allowed him to travel the world setting up computer systems.
I watched as this man discovered a truth for himself as he was unable to keep up with the conversation around him. I have since spoken the truth to this man on a number of occasions. A truth that has come to me as I have been touched and inspired by people of color who are far greater and for more eloquent than me. People that I’m proud to call sister and brother.
I remember listening to someone that I respected, someone that I thought knew a lot about God and the Bible and life... they were telling me that homosexuals were sinners just because of who they were. That they were an abomination to God, and that it’s there right in the Bible. He also told me that he could no longer respect me because I called myself a minister and yet I didn’t preach this truth. That conversation took place nearly 20 years ago. Since that day, even though we grew up together and had been the best of friends, we spoke only a couple of times.
Several weeks ago on my trip to Montana, I sat at lunch with that man and instead of arguing, I just listened. He had recently left the church where he’d been a member for over 20 years because he was tired of hearing about how sinful everyone else was. He was tired of trying to rid the world of homosexuals... he wanted to quit wasting the time God had given him and do something positive with his life.
We talked of making a difference, of changing society and his dream to use his gifts overseas to make life better for people. A friend was returned to me that day.
Sometimes it takes a long time for the truth to sink in when you don’t want to hear the voices around you. Sometimes a particular person brings the truth, not by beating you over the head with it, but just by being who they are... a woman elder or minister who makes you realize you that you’d be much poorer without their ministry in your life; a person of color who becomes a teacher and a life changing friend and influence; a gay person who finally convinces you that they are a person of worth and value and that they have the same hopes and dreams and spirituality as you.
In our story, Naaman, the commander of the Army, the powerful man in charge has his life changed by a captive servant girl who is a foreigner. She took pity on him. Because she dared to speak the truth to power.
I’ve had my life changed many, many times because the very people I had categorized as different and somehow less than me, took pity on me, daring to speak and live the truth in my presence.
There have been moments, now and again, though rare, when I’ve had the courage to speak the truth to power.
How can we be silent when we know the truth, and that truth can bring healing, freedom, dignity and God’s grace to the lives of those who are broken - like us.
