SERMON 4 July 2004 (5th Sunday after Pentecost)

 Readings:    2 Kings 5: 1-14        Psalm 30        Galatians 6: 7-18        Luke 10: 1-12; 17-24

In the name of God, who calls us to freedom.

In reading through today’s readings I was irresistibly, if somewhat surprisingly reminded of an episode of the TV comedy ‘Becker.’ The comedy revolves around John Becker, an irascible, self-absorbed doctor, and his relationships with his friends and his support staff. At one point his nurse, Margaret, is deeply troubled by problems in her marriage and is uncharacteristically snappy. Becker interprets her mood as a response to him, at which point she turns and utters a phrase which has entered our family vocabulary – ‘it’s not all about you, John’.

If I could sum up today’s readings in one phrase it would be a variation of Margaret’s retort, and it would go something like: ‘it’s not about what you think it’s about’.

Naaman, the immensely successful military commander, is afflicted by leprosy, a much-feared and apparently incurable disease. A foreign slave girl suggests there is someone who can effect a cure and Naaman, clutching at straws, goes to find him. Following correct protocol, he goes to the King of Israel first, who immediately thinks he is being set up. But that is not what it is all about. The prophet Elisha does know how Naaman can be cured. But then Naaman falls victim to his own preconceptions, refusing to take the cure prescribed. Although he had come prepared to be cured by a holy man, he is not prepared to do something as simple as wash in a river, and a foreign one at that. ‘That’s not how I should be cured!’ Fortunately common sense prevailed and Naaman did as he was told. God’s action came in a way that was totally unexpected and which Naaman almost missed because of his own ideas of how things should be.

The whole letter to the Galatians is a passionate response by Paul to a community which has, in his eyes, lost its way. From the internal evidence of the letter itself it seems that the church in Galatia has followed teaching which says that Gentile converts to Christianity have to follow Jewish law and be circumcised. Paul argues that this is not only unnecessary but profoundly wrong.  

The Jewish Law, he maintains, is intrinsically linked to a material view of the world, whereas the spirit of God comes, not through observation of the Law, but through faith in Jesus Christ. Following the Law will lead the Galatians to be focussed on earthly, material things not on spiritual things. Rather than observing the Law, they should operate within the freedom of the Spirit. Again, the whole thrust of Paul’s argument to the Galatians is ‘it’s not about what you think it’s about’. It is NOT about achieving salvation through observing the Law, it is about living in a particular way because you are living in the fullness of the Spirit of God. Salvation is a given. 

The theme also runs through the Gospel reading. The disciples, who, by the way, are surely meant to represent a mission to the nations of the world who, according to Jewish tradition numbered 70 or 72, did at least do as Jesus told them. Not for them Naaman’s protests. But then, when they came back, overjoyed at their success, it seems they had perhaps not quite got the right end of the stick. “Do not rejoice at this’, said Jesus, ‘that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.’ Jesus is telling them that this is not about personal power – it is about God and about relationship with God. And the important thing is not what they can do because of their relationship with Jesus, it is the very fact of the relationship.  

As these readings attest, time after time, we get it wrong. Not always completely wrong, but wrong nonetheless. Our ways are not God’s ways and our habits, our expectations, our fears, our pride, all stand in the way of us understanding God and God’s action in the world.  

An English sociologist, Anthony Giddens, has written widely about globalisation and the structure of modern western societies. He argues that much of what we do in our societies is predicated on what he calls ‘expert systems’. There are a whole lot of these systems which underpin everything that we do. I have no idea how to build or fix a car. But there are people who do and I rely on them to do a good job. I trust the designer, the builder, and the inspection system to produce a vehicle which is safe and reasonably reliable. When I drive my car I do so on a network of roads which have, I trust, been well-designed and built and go where they say they go. I see a signpost to Sydney and expect to end up there, not in Melbourne. And so it goes on. I trust my doctor to be well trained, my bank to keep my money. 

Much of our everyday lives depends on the expertise of others and our trust in that expertise. We also have certain expectations about how things will happen. While we are not all experts in everything, we have an idea of the basic principles of most of the systems we use. My trust for my doctor would, I suspect, be severely dented if I went in one day and she prescribed me 3 frogs legs and an incantation for a sprained ankle. Ice and anti-inflammatories, yes; frogs legs and a spell, no.  

Being intelligent creatures of habit, we tend to operate the same way in most areas of our lives – we look for patterns and then work with them. The life of faith is no different. We have a tendency to follow routine, to feel that we understand enough to know how God will act. But God is not containable – God is feral, refusing to be tamed or domesticated and constantly shaking our expectations, acting beyond our limited understandings, moving in and through the unexpected to shatter our preconceptions, if only we will hold our hearts and minds open to see.  

This does not feel like a particularly secure place to be. It is much easier to have a set of rules, to be able to negotiate the tricky path of life according to a formula. But the reality of the life of faith is that it doesn’t work like that. God cannot be regimented, nor can God’s requirements of us be reduced to a manual. A simple statement of principle, yes, but a set of rules no. We are to love God and love our neighbour as ourselves. But HOW we do that is the journey of a lifetime. Our security comes not from living by rules but from loving God – from loving the unknowable, unpredictable, wild and tender God who constantly challenges us to reach beyond our human understanding and to touch the fabric of the universe.  

May we rise to the challenge of breaking through our expectations and pray, with Michael Leunig: 

God give us rain when we expect sun.
Give us music when we expect trouble.
Give us tears when we expect breakfast.
Give us dreams when we expect a storm.
Give us a stray dog when we expect congratulations.
God play with us, turn us sideways and around.  Amen. 

Sarah Macneil