Historic First Lutheran Church of Pasadena

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

Has there ever been a time in your life where you have been upset with God at the way that He did something in your life? That’s a pretty silly question, isn’t it? It’s a silly question because we’ve all certainly had multiple times in our lives when we’ve been upset with God about something that happened to us or the way that it happened.

This morning, in our First Reading, we were introduced to Naaman, a high ranking military official who was well respected. By most of our standards, Naaman had everything in the world going for him. He had a good career. He had found great success and advancement in that career. He enjoyed the company and the ear of the King of Aram. He had a pretty young wife. Life couldn’t seemingly be any better, except for a dreaded skin disease called leprosy that Naaman had contracted.

Now leprosy in and of itself was bad enough. There were several different varieties of skin diseases that all got lumped together and got called leprosy. Some of those varieties were severe and considered highly contagious, condemning the leper into a segregated colony, essentially separating the leper from family and friends and normal life. Some of those varieties were milder and not considered infectious. That seems to be the variety that Naaman had since he was still living and moving in social networks with others. For Naaman, the leprosy that affected him was probably more of insult and embarrassment because of its appearance on a man of his stature in society.

Anyway, Naaman’s wife knew a man, a prophet from her own land of Israel, whom she was confident could cure her husband. That was something that was of great interest to him, so Naaman did what any man in his position would do. He went to his boss, the King of Aram, asking for a letter of recommendation that he could carry to Israel along with a whole bunch of stuff he thought would be necessary to effect his healing – ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold and ten sets of clothing. He rode to Israel as an honored military man of standing with great pomp and circumstance, riding there in horses and chariots.

After a little diversionary visit with the King of Israel, where he got the chance to show off his wealth and standing, Naaman was directed to Elisha, the prophet known by his wife. Elisha knew that Naaman was coming. Elisha sent the message to Naaman, “Go. Wash yourself in the Jordan and you will be healed.”

That’s great! Isn’t it?

Naaman sure didn’t think so. To quote Emeril Lagasse, Naaman wanted some “BAM!” He wanted something spectacular that would measure up to his importance and standing in the world. For Elisha simply to say, “Go and wash in the Jordan” seemed to Naaman to belittle his problem. It seemed to insult Naaman. It made his problem seem as if it really wasn’t a problem to others, that it was nothing more than a simply solved inconvenience. It would be similar to someone afflicted with cancer finding out that there was a revolutionary pill that you’d take one time and it would cure every variety of cancer, but that person instead insisting on surgery and chemotherapy and radiation because a simple, ordinary pill just isn’t a spectacular enough cure for a disease like cancer.

Naaman was mad at the way that God intended to heal him through Elisha and, I guess, that is totally his right. But that anger, that upset, that self-inflicted insult just about doomed him to be forever afflicted with leprosy.

Where in our lives might we be able to say the same thing? Where in our lives are we harboring a complaint against God for something He wants to do or the way He wants to do it? Not only is that an important question to ask, but equally important is a second question: What is our complaint with God keeping God from being able to do in our lives?

God, Who is certainly more than able to do anything we want or need, often intentionally works in highly unusual ways. He often speaks in that still small voice [1 Kings 19:9-18] instead of speaking to us and working in our lives through powerful winds and mighty earthquakes and ravaging fires. He does that, I believe, to show that it’s not by might nor by power nor by any of our clever scheming or planning or skill or status or coercion, but that everything He does in our lives is done because of His unmerited, unearned, undeserved grace and mercy and love.

That’s exactly why it was on a silent night, Jesus Christ entered our world. The God of all creation could have easily torn open the Heavens and with great flashes of lightning and with loud trumpets come down to earth. But you can be sure that if He had done that, someone somewhere would have claimed credit for it, that they were saying an incantation at that moment and that they were singularly responsible for the entrance of Jesus into our world.

No, God entered our flesh on a silent, still night. He chose to enter our world not in Rome but in Bethlehem, not in a suite at the Westin but in a feeding trough in a stable. He didn’t choose a last name like Rockefeller or Roosevelt or Kennedy, but chose the heritage of a carpenter from Nazareth and his young wife.

God entered the world the way He did to show that He was in control, that He was motivated simply and solely by His great grace and mercy and love for each of us. Thirty-three years later He also chose an unusual means for leaving the world, nailed to a cross, carrying the sins of the entire world.

There were many people who decided at that time not to welcome or accept Jesus because He wasn’t spectacular enough. There are even today many people who decide not to follow Jesus because their own form of religion – whatever that may be – is much more exciting for them personally. In the end, there are many people who simply miss God working in their lives altogether.

Where are you right now upset with God at something He’s doing in your life or the way that He’s doing it? Please don’t get offended, but please get over yourself. Let God be God. Let Him work in your life as He desires, knowing that you will certainly find yourself as nothing else but the recipient of His overwhelming grace and mercy and love.

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

Pastor Christopher Schaar
Historic First Lutheran Church of Pasadena