July 6 2025 Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

2 Kings 5.1-14   Psalm 30   Galatians 6.7-18   Luke 10.1-12; 17-24

We are used to the idea that, usually, the lectionary readings set for any given Sunday put a reading from the Old Testament and the Gospel together with both revealing a similar ‘theme’.  Today’s readings do the same, but it is not necessarily obvious at first glance.  You may well ask how the healing of Naaman and the sending of the seventy are linked.  What connection is there in the healing of a military commander in the river Jordan and Jesus’ commissioning seventy disciples to go and share the Gospel.

Maybe, the answer is found in the question asked by Naaman’s servant when he threatens to leave in a ‘huff’ because he doesn’t like the response he received from Elisha.  Naaman struggles to accept God’s healing on ‘God’s terms’.  And the question from the servant is both cutting and also brilliant.  “, 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”?

This decorated, military leader is someone of great wealth, power and influence; he has the ear of the king, the respect of his soldiers, and he appears to be someone who is used to and expects to get things done his way.  But he also has leprosy, a painful, debilitating, and socially isolating disease.  He has tried everything to treat this ailment, to no avail, and he finally hears the advice of a servant – a child, a Jew, a slave, a girl.  But when he comes to this famed prophet he is incensed that he is not received personally, and then that he is instructed to wash in the Jordan.  A second rate body of water that is little more than a muddy stream.  It is all too much for Naaman so he makes to return home in a huff, loathing the prophet, cursing his leprosy and nursing a bruised ego.

But the servant’s question that stops Naaman in his tracks is one that is relevant for us too.  “If the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it”.  So why not do the easier thing.  Aren’t easier things easier.

Well, often for Christians doing the ‘easy’ thing is not all that easy.  Often it feels downright impossible.  Why?  Because it offends our sensibilities; it challenges us; it humbles us; it disarms us; it makes us feel silly, unsophisticated and vulnerable.  We prefer miracles that ‘dazzle’, divine encounters that make us look good, difficult trials that prove our worth spiritually.  We prefer to sweat, and struggle and show off; we prefer to venerate things that look holy.

But if this story of Naaman tells us anything, it is that the sacred does not always lie in things that sparkle.  Difficulties for difficulty’s sake will not usher in God’s healing presence.  Sometimes, God works through the ‘easy’.  Through those things that are simple, those things ‘right in front of us’ waiting for us to notice them.  This story invites us to ‘take off our armour’, ‘strip down and be exposed’, and then ‘get in the mud and sit down’, get down into its depths, all the way down and wash.  And wash again, and again, and again.  Wash until your need to buy or earn or impress or demand or manipulate or control your way into God’s healing presence is washed away and carried downstream.  Let go of the hardship, go, choose the easy thing.

And Jesus’ commissioning of the seventy echoes this same message.  Look at what Jesus command them to do, and also not do.  No purse; no sandals; speak peace when you enter a dwelling; eat whatever they put in front of you; stay in just one home, one family, one town; speak of what is near, not far; don’t stay in hopeless places; remember the kingdom of God comes near whether you are accepted or rejected.  Trust that any peace that is rejected will return to you, because nothing in God’s kingdom is wasted.

In other words, this task for the seventy is hard because it is easy.  It is so easy, it is counter-cultural and counter-intuitive.  It is so easy we become wary and suspicious and cynical.  And what is that easy task?  Live simply and vulnerably.  Rely on the grace and hospitality of others.  Live as guests, sharing our faith with others as if they are our hosts, as if we depend on them for our sustenance and shelter.  Speak peace, first and last.  Let go in love, believe always in the abundance and nearness of God’s economy.

When the disciples returned to Jesus they were filled with joy.  They were ecstatic about all they did, and saw, and heard.  And Jesus’ comment about seeing Satan fall from heaven shows us that when we do what Jesus asks us, when we travel the easy path of vulnerability, humility, and peace-making, evil trembles, demons fall, the world changes, God’s kingdom comes.

So the question I ask myself today is, why do I continue to complicate things.  Why am I continually asking – what is God asking me to do, what is God’s will, how will I hear God’s voice and discern God’s plan.

Because the answer is really not all that hard.  Do justice.  Love mercy.  Walk humbly.  Pray, listen, learn, and love.  Break the bread, drink the wine, bear the burden, share the peace.  Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, love your neighbour as yourself.

In other words - get off your high horse and get in the water.  Sit down at the dinner table and speak peace to those who are feeding you.

As we approach our Commitment Sunday, what ‘forgone conclusions’ do we need to let go of.  While we may not be looking for healing, or being asked to ‘go’ and proclaim, we are being asked to ‘prepare’ for the Kingdom God to come in this place.  Jesus told the disciples ‘go and trust’ that all you need will be given you.  We, here in this place, likewise trust that all we need for the ongoing ministry of the parish will be available when and how we need it.

Both these stories disrupt our expectations.  Naaman’s story is one of reversals, festal robes give way to nakedness, kings and generals make way for handmaids and servants, pomp surrenders to prophecy, dignity bows to wholeness, and faith – saving, healing faith – emerges in a muddy river.

For the seventy, abundance flows from simplicity.  Purse-less, barefooted houseguests usher in God’s kingdom.  Speaking peace into villagers’ homes brings Satan down like lightning.  Navigating the world as ‘lambs in the midst of wolves’ multiplies joy.

If God asked us to do something difficult, we would do it ‘in a heartbeat’.  So why not do what is easy.  Why not re-evaluate your commitment.  Why not be healed.  Why not bring peace.  Why not watch demons fall.